Warriors ⎜ John Wick

Undecim

That night their things were promptly moved into a room nearly identical to the previous one, a move that was likely the work of the ever vigilant Charon.

Jessica hardly slept for the rest of the night and whatever sleep she did manage to find was unsettled and plagued by nightmares she hadn't experienced since she was a little girl. All the violence and death that surrounded her in the past two days woke memories of her father's death and had her questioning the man that raised her.

She was left wondering if he had stumbled upon this profession out of need or if he had sought for it out of want. But as Jessica recalled his tenderness towards her and her mother she couldn't bring herself to believe that he had found any joy or pleasure in his line of work.

As Jessica lay there, awake at three in the morning, her mind continued to wander back to the last conversation she had with John. Though their talk had ended on hardly good terms she felt as if she had a far better understanding of the man she had placed her trust in. She was beginning to understand why he felt that it was his duty to protect her and why he was so adamant about keeping her safe. But at the same time her curiosity had piqued and she was itching to get more information from Winston because she knew by now, especially after that yelling match, that John was unlikely to tell her anything about his personal life unless she surgically removed it.

For the remainder of the night Jessica tossed and turned, trying desperately to fall back asleep but to no avail. At no point while she was awake did John come to the room. At around six, when she finally decided that it was a socially acceptable time to get ready for the day, she could have sworn that she heard familiar heavy footsteps stop in front of her door but they left just as quickly as she noticed. When she peaked into the hall mere seconds later there was no one to be found.

After ordering room service and adding final touches to her appearance for the day Jessica made her way down to the lobby where she found Charon at his post behind the front desk.

"Good morning, Miss Powell." Charon smiled pleasantly at her. "I do hope you were not too unsettled by last night's... disturbance."

Jessica smiled back at him tiredly. "I've had worse." She took a quick glance around the lobby and with no sign of a certain assassin she turned back to the concierge. "Have you seen John?"

Charon's smile became sympathetic almost and his voice lowered to a tone that contained the slightest touch of pity. "I'm sorry, Miss. Mr. Wick left early this morning for a business meeting."

Jessica's heart swelled with worry and her face fell at the thought of John risking his life and battling against an entire gang by himself. Though she was well aware of what John was capable of she couldn't fill in the horrible pit that had developed in her stomach, especially knowing that she had been in the wrong in their last conversation and longed to apologize.

Jessica remembered where she was after a few seconds and quickly composed herself. What had been a hurricane in her mind only appeared as a softening of the eyes to Charon and those surrounding them in the lobby. Charon himself was impressed by her stoicism and gave her a slight nod of approval.

"Is the manager in?" Her voice had become void of nearly all emotion. She was a sheep among wolves and had to act as if she belonged.

"He is waiting for you on the roof, Miss Powell."

Jessica gave Charon a curt nod and strutted towards the elevator with confidence. Even in her skinny jeans, white t-shirt, and kitten heels she was still able to take possession of the room and everyone present knew it.

Getting up to the roof was rather straight forward. When Jessica stepped into the elevator she nearly panicked at having made such a strong exit but with no idea where to go until she noticed a button in the elevator labeled "ROOF" in bold, black letters. When the elevator doors opened Jessica inhaled deeply and languished in the scent of the wind. Diesel lingered in her senses for a moment before the sweet freshness of the flowers and greenery on the rooftop overpowered the scent of petroleum. 

Winston sat at a table in the center of the roof surrounded by flowers and green things enjoying what appeared to be an eggs benedict. Skyscrapers towered over the hotel of modest size in comparison and reflected the light of the morning sun down onto the rooftop garden, creating an ethereal effect that Jessica could have enjoyed for hours.

"Come join me," Winston called to the redhead, not having looked up from his ever-present newspaper.

Jessica stepped forward into the sunlight, sighing in ecstasy as it warmed her skin for the first time in what felt like weeks. She seated herself across from Winston and almost instantly a hidden waiter lurched forward to be at her beck and call. After taking her request for a coffee and being waved off by Winston the waiter vanished and the two were left alone. All that passed between the two were the sounds of the traffic on the streets below and the occasional plane flying overhead until Jessica's coffee was placed in front of her and the waiter again vanished into whatever corner he came from.

Winston sighed heavily and placed his now folded newspaper next to his empty plate. He glanced at Jessica over the frame of his glasses and removed them.

"Are you sure you want to be asking me?"

Despite having known Winston for about ten hours, Jessica was hardly phased by the fact that she hadn't needed to say anything for him to know why she was up here.

"We both know that John is hardly an open book and forcing anything out of him is an impossibility," Jessica stated in an almost bored tone. "If I don't ask you I'm not sure I'll ever have answers to my question."

Winston fixed her with a gaze that blatantly called bullshit and compelled her to tell the truth.

Jessica sighed shakily and looked down into the rich brown beverage sitting in front of her. It reminded her of John's eyes.

"I can't shake this feeling that something is going to go horribly wrong and that I won't see him again."

The confession did nothing to lift the weight off of her heart, but rather made it seem even heavier as life was breathed into her fear.

Winston sighed in acceptance but did nothing to console her. "What is it that you want to know?"

"What happened to his wife?"

"She died," Winston stated matter of factly. "For five years they were married and he was free of this world. He got out for her, you know. He completed an impossible task as payment for his freedom, all for her."

Jessica looked up from her coffee with sadness glistening in her eyes. "How did she die?" Her voice came out almost as a whisper.

Winston rested his temple against two extended fingers with his elbow sitting on the edge of the table. "All I know is that she was ill and that one morning John had to make the decision to pull the plug."

Jessica's heart shattered for the man that had deemed himself to be her protector. She had watched people make that decision and clutch their family close as they watched their loved one quickly fade from life. To make that choice is a gut wrenching task but to go through it alone must be earth shattering.

A tear trickled down Jessica's cheek and landed delicately on the saucer beneath her untouched cup. "Why did he come back?" She feared what answer Winston might give her.

Winston smiled but it lacked any joy or happiness as he recounted the tragedies of someone he considered to be a dear friend. "The night after Helen's funeral - that was his wife's name - a puppy was delivered to John's door. This arrangement was something Helen had set up in the event of her passing. A final gift from his wife. And twenty-four hours later Iosef Tarasov, the son of Russian crime boss Viggo Tarasov, broke into John's home, killed his dog, and stole his car."

Jessica focused her attention on her lap, trying to hide the tears that silently streamed down her cheeks. She finally understood the man under the dark suit and harsh features and wished that she could ease his pain and return him to the picture perfect life he had been living for the past five years. She wanted to turn back time and give him all that he had lost before he was thrust back into a life he didn't want and had fought so hard to escape. But most of all, Jessica wanted to make him happy. She wanted to do the impossible and save the devil.

Jessica stood and pushed her chair away with a sudden surge of confidence and determination. 

Winston spoke up before she could say a word. "Good luck, Jessica Powell. You will need it."