John Marston X Female Reader
Summary: John is a single father after the gang falls apart. The reader, who was also in the gang, comes across John and helps him.
For the sake of this oneshot, Abigail died during childbirth. I love her and I'm sorry!
Word Count: 4600
John never felt like a single father, he had the whole gang to help him. Jack had so many aunts and uncles that John never felt alone, he had friends who wanted to help him and they did a great job. Maybe even a better job than he did.
But now...now, he was alone. Now, it was just him and Jack living on a ranch. John had to raise his four year old son while making enough money to make sure they could both keep living here. He had a whole new respect for single parents, or just parents in general.
John didn't have the same help that he once had in the Van der Linde gang but he was truly trying to do his best, for Jack's sake. He would make honest money, like an honest life, for his son.
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It was some time around midday when John was sitting in the living room, just watching jack playing with some of his toys, something that he found oddly therapeutic these days. It was a quiet day and the two of them had spent the morning out with the horses, having come inside for something to eat and drink.
The two of them were interrupted from their silence when there was a knock on the door. John's brow furrowed in confusion, it wasn't like they had a lot of visitors. He told Jack to wait there and the boy nodded before his father walked out of the room.
John pulled open the front door and completely froze at the face he was greeted with. "Y/n?" he asked, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. He was so in shock that he only just realised that you were bleeding, a wound on your stomach that was bleeding through your shirt.
"John...I-I'm sorry to just sh-show up but-" you were already apologising but John wouldn't give you the chance to feel guilty.
"It's fine, c'mere" John assured you as he wrapped an arm around your waist, helping you into his house. "Jack! Stay in the living room, I'll be there in a minute!" he called to his son, not wanting him to see you bleeding.
John guided you through the house and up some stairs, then into a room that turned out to be the master bedroom. He gently lay you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable.
"Is it bad?" John asked as he helped you out of your coat, dropping it to the floor carelessly.
"Don't think so...probably needs stitches but I'll live" you told him as you lay back down.
"Alright, I can do that" John nodded, looking over you quickly.
In that moment it felt like it hadn't been a year since he last saw you, a year since the gang fell apart. The two of you were instantly thrown into old habits, back when you had to patch each other up. Yes, John could help you because he had done it so many times in the past, and you had done the same for him.
The two of you worked in silence, beside a few pained grunts or hisses from you, trying to get everything out of the way. Eventually, you were laying on John's bed with a pile of your belongings on the floor. Everything you had been carrying, your shoes and your coat abandoned to the floor. While, you lay on your back with your shirt pulled up to your ribs so that John could get to the wound.
He had darted out of the room to grab some supplies, quickly returning with what he needed.
"I'm sorry...I know that I shouldn't have come here, I didn't want too. Not after you managed to get away with Jack but I wasn't sure where else to go" you apologised properly as John cleaned the blood away from your skin using a damp cloth.
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