Archive of Our Own ^beta

Work.

God is it difficult. From whiny customers to your boss screaming at you about every little problem, to that randomly creepy coworker who won't take the fucking hint and move on. You are so done, so ready to just lay down and give up.

The past few weeks have been exhausting, every day feels like another challenge, and it's like your job has become your entire life.

You make it into your apartment, sighing and closing the door behind you, immediately getting undressed and heading for your bedroom. Even just the sight of your bed makes you happy. You’ve been waiting for this moment all day, and it feels so good. 

Laying on your bed and getting comfy almost immediately you begin to feel yourself drifting away, letting go of the tension in your body as your mind begins to wander, letting yourself succumbing to the exhaustion.

—--------------

Just as quickly as you fell asleep, you're awake again. head spinning and covered in sweat. You groan looking at your clock.

It's 3am.

Your kidding.

You sit there for a moment staring at the clock, hoping that you’re just tired and reading it wrong. You cant focus with the pounding in your head, a consistent beating feeling like your pulse is about to blow your head off.

When the clock doesn't change you roll back over closing your eyes and trying your best to ignore the throbbing. It's no use. Each pulse sends a blunt shot of pain through you, lingering there for a few seconds before another wave hits you again.

With no other choice you sit up, instantly regretting it as a wall of nausea knocks you back down. Why did this have to happen on your day off, the one time you can just sleep for as long as you want. You consider giving up, laying there in your anguish until you eventually pass out. You try once more feeling that same wall again but this time you are able to make it through. 

Without wasting any time you get out of bed trailing toward the kitchen the pain only getting worse with each step you take. 

Reaching towards the cupboards, leaning against them for support, you start to rummage through them trying to find your painkillers, shoving and throwing things out of the way. You do not care to be organized or considerate with your actions, you’re too tired and right now you are more focused on making sure you don't collapse rather than being tidy.

Just as you see the box you get this weird uneasy feeling, a slight shiver that trickles down your spine as though someone is standing right behind you.

You turn around, almost falling over in the process, examining the kitchen. It's too dark to make anything out but there doesn't seem to be anything there. Shrugging it off you open the pill bottle drop some into your hand and get ready to-.

*knock knock knock*

You freeze, your hand hovering over your mouth. That feeling of nausea being dulled down, your entire body going cold.

You wait for a minute, your hand still hovering as you stand there in grim anticipation.

*knock knock knock*

Quickly downing the pills you walk toward your door cautiously. 

Your blood is racing and that sickly feeling is almost completely removed replaced by an unwavering sense of dread.

The walk isn't long but it feels like an eternity, suddenly hyper-aware of your surroundings.

*knock knock knock*

This time you don't react, getting closer to the door with each step. 

Who is knocking at this time? and what do they want? You grab your key but you don't twist it immediately. That beating in your head fades back into your mind, mixed with a pump of adrenaline. You are scared and part of you wants to turn back, but curiosity is a compelling force.

With a deep breath, you twist the key and open the door swiftly.

You are greeted by the sight of a man in a shirt and trench coat, his tie lightly hanging around his neck. There are blood stains all over him his hair is disheveled, a purple circle surrounds his left eye, discomfort and exhaustion are written across his face.

It takes you a moment to recognize him, your brain still processing what's happening.

“John?” you question, voice husked with sleep. The bright hallway causing you to squint slightly.

“iya love, mind if I come in?” his voice rough even with him trying to mask it. He’s breathing heavily, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead.

You give him a look up and down noticing the wound on his shoulder, blood pouring from it, sending rivers of red down his jacket. 

It's then you realize the gravity of the situation.

“Holy shit, what happened?” you say dragging him into your apartment, turning on the lights, and swiftly sitting him down on a kitchen chair.

“Nothin’ much, just a bar fight s’all,” he says letting out a small grunt as he sits down, his hand clasping onto the wound in his shoulder.

He did smell of alcohol and was clearly drinking not too long ago, but you had seen John's bar fights before and they were nothing like this.

This was something else…An angry spirit, a demon of mass destruction, an exorcism gone wrong.

You knew John's work and the dangers that came with it, but seeing it in person…that was something else entirely.

Taking a minute to gain composure you examine the wound in his shoulder the glass shards piercing his skin with ease, blood pooling around the area rapidly.

Before you waste any more time, you grab your first aid kit, a bucket of lukewarm water, and a pair of soft washcloths.

—---------------

This wasn't how you were expecting your night to go and you are not sure how to feel about it. On one hand, John is back after having not seen or heard from him in months. On the other hand, he is heavily injured and bleeding all over your kitchen floor.

The silence in the room is deafening, both of you are on edge as you lightly undress his torso making sure to not disturb the glass as you bring his coat down his arms throwing it to the side. His shirt comes next, sat between his legs quickly unbuttoning the front as you have done many times before.

He looks down at you with a lazy grin “I always imaged you in this position, just wish it was under better circumstances.” 

You shoot him a glare, standing up to remove his sleeves. You can feel his eyes on you, studying you, watching as you carefully remove the item of clothing with ease. Like he wants to say something but can't bring the words into existence.

Once the shirt is removed, you are able to get a better look at the wound, it's not as bad as you thought but still incredibly painful to look at. 

You slide the bucket toward you getting ready. You place your hand on the glass shard, being careful not to cut yourself. Looking at John again his eyes are soft, and he looks defeated. You stay there for a second looking into each other's eyes, the tension in the room fizzling out. 

John gives you a slight nod and you begin to remove the glass shard. Almost immediately you are met with resistance. John lets out a hiss, you continue to pull the shard as carefully as possible. You pause for a moment holding the shard in place, before going back to remove the rest. John's fists are clenched his face red and glazed with sweat.

After what feels like an eternity, you remove the shard. John lets out a relieved sigh, as his body relaxes again. “Bloody‘ell”

You quickly grab the dry cloth applying a good amount of pressure to the wound, watching as the cloth is slowly consumed by a cloud of red. You keep the pressure going ensuring that there is no excess blood. 

That silence has returned to the room and you can't help but feel like you need to say something…you just don't know what. You have so so many questions racking in your brain like where was he? what actually happened? Why did he leave?

You are so angry at him, not because he's injured or that he showed up here. No, you are angry at him for not saying anything, for leaving without a trace, for acting like he doesn't care.

“Where have you been?” your voice is clear and assertive.

He's silent for a moment before answering “Why’d you ask?”

There's something he's hiding and your too tired to play this game of back and forth.

You take a deep breath.

“Well, I don't know, it might have something to do with you disappearing for months without talking to me and then showing up at my apartment in the middle of the night looking like this, acting like nothing ever happened!” 

You don't realise how hard you are pushing until you see the discomfort on John's face. 

Letting go slightly, you place John's hand on the cloth so you can start to work on other areas. He isn't looking at you anymore the guilt on his face outlining his features. You feel a little bad for lecturing him whilst he's like this but it's important and he can't hide from the truth forever.

“I guess you deserve an explanation, don't you?”

You're a little surprised, usually when it comes to things like this, John will put up a wall and stop talking about it, trying to dodge the question as much as he can. This time he hasn't put up a fight at all, maybe it's because he's tired, or maybe the injury has messed with him a little bit. Whatever it is you’re not complaining.

You start to gently wipe down his neck and shoulder before he begins to explain.

“I didn't want to leave you, I really didn’t, but I got caught up in this job…a big one”

You begin to wipe down his forehead listing intently to what he's saying.

“I got in over my head thinking that I could handle it on my own, as I always do”

“Before I knew it, I released a terrible evil upon this world far more powerful than I will ever be”

He moves his head to a side for you to clean. You're on the edge waiting for him to continue.

“So I ran…I ran far. I couldn't face it then, and I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to face it”

He takes a shaky breath “Eventually I met up with some old friends and we were able to send that thing screaming back to the bloody hell hole it came from”

He looks you straight in the eyes this time, your hand still resting on his cheek.

“But I didn't just do it for me Y/N, I did for you. The thought of you getting hurt or even worse killed…it consumed me and dragging away that demon was the only way I could keep you safe.”

He's silent for a moment, his eyebrows scrunched together in an attempt to fight the pain.

“Dammit Y/n there wasn't a single day I didn’t think about you! not a single moment I didn't consider just telling you the truth, but I couldn't protect you if I tried, I was too much of a coward.”

You're frozen in place, you've never seen him so vulnerable before, you've never heard him like this. It's almost frightening.

“So I did what I always do and I left, stopped talking to you, hoping that you'd forget about me and move on, that you’d find someone better, someone, who truly deserves you”

“S’easier to work alone…know’in you're the only one that will get hurt, and that you deserve every bit of it”

He's not looking at you anymore, his head hung low. You are speechless, you don't know what to say, was that the answer you wanted? You didn’t expect the truth to be so raw and painful. You can feel the tears pricking at your eyes, your throat closing up.

For so long you blamed him, for so long you dreaded the day you'd see him again. But now he's here you can’t even be angry with him, your mind is a swirling cesspit of emotion.

You lift his head up placing your hand underneath his chin and stroking his cheek gently with your thumb. The sorrow in his eyes looking back at yours searching for an answer.

“I understand if you don't forgiv–”

You cut him off placing your lips on his gently. It takes a moment for him to kiss back but when he does it feels amazing. You never realized how much missed this, how much you missed him! His soft lips pressed against yours the taste of nicotine on his tongue, how his hand sits on the back of your neck. The longer the kiss lasts the more you don't want it to end.

After a few seconds, you split, both out of breath. You take a minute to recompose yourself before you speak.

“I forgive you,” you say, your voice quiet, barely audible.

He wraps his free arm around you pulling you closer, your foreheads pressed together looking into each other's eyes.

“I will never leave you again Y/n…I promise” he's serious you can hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes. You find yourself on the verge of tears again.

You hug each other closely, head resting on his shoulder as you try to fight back the wave of emotion that's in you, you’re not strong enough. Letting the tears cascade down your cheeks, months of buried emotion all falling out at once. you pull him in burying your face in his good shoulder, small whimpers leaving your lips. 

You’re there for a while just letting your emotion run free as he comforts you. 

Eventually, your cries quiet down and you’re left sniffling. You suddenly remember what you were doing, so lost in the moment you forgot what happened.

Pulling yourself off of him you wipe your face down and take a deep breath. 

“We should-” You haven't fully recovered yet, still out of breath.

You remove the bloodied cloth tossing it into the bucket. You start to clean the area around the wound making it more visible. John's eyes are still trained on you, making you nervous.

“What actually happened here then?” you say, your voice is hoarse from all the crying.

“Was selling some magical artifacts to a shady-looking guy at the bar, sellin’ em for more than they were worth” 

“He didn't like that and least to say things got a little bit heated”

Typical John. trying to con someone and not thinking about the consequences. For an ‘expert’ con man and supposed ‘master’ of the dark art, you'd think he'd be better at it.

“m’alright now though love, got this absolute cutie to patch me up,” he says wiggling his eyebrows, with a grin.

You can't help but smile at his charms, glad to see him being himself again. 

Once the wound is clean, you open the first aid kit grabbing what you need to stitch him together again. Kneeling down you begin to thread the needle through his skin, John seems relaxed tensing a few times as he gets used to the pain. 

There's a silence between you again but it's different…comfortable. The stitching doesn't take long, quickly tying off the end and cutting it. Proud of your work you stand back up, grabbing the patch, and applying it nicely over the area. 

You catch John looking up at you again, a soft smile curling his lips. You pretend to not notice putting everything back in its box, grabbing an ice pack for his eye, and picking the cloth up one more time.

The rest of his body isn't hard to clean just some scrapes and bruises, soon you’re done. Leaving everything where it is you decide you're too tired to clean it up now, ready to sleep finally. 

Helping John up from his chair, and letting him regain his balance, you tug at his belt lightly.

“Take your pants off” you command.

“With pleasure” he replies a cheeking smirk plastered across his face.

You roll your eyes letting go and making your way toward the bedroom. you crawl into the blanket getting comfortable in your bed once again. It doesn't take long for John to join you, sliding in, his body flush against yours and snuggling closer to you. You rest your head on his chest listening to the small thuds of his heartbeat, your fingers tracing small circles onto his skin.

“Goodnight John”

“G’night love” 

He gives you a quick kiss on the forehead laying back down. It doesn't take long for John to fall asleep, his soft breaths making you relax as you feel yourself drift off.