Chapter Text
You stared at the empty spot that John had previously occupied, too confused to move before letting out a deep sigh and rubbing your face. Of course, you screwed this up. You always screw it up. It almost felt like a curse. Whenever you got close and started to fall for someone, they ran away from you, more often than not without a goodbye or explanation.
With another sigh, you got into John’s car, on the driver’s seat this time, relieved to see that he had left the keys in the ignition. You adjusted the seat and mirrors grimacing at the way the mess of fluids running down your leg made you stick uncomfortably to the seat. It would probably stain the leather, but you couldn’t give a single fuck. He left you stranded in the middle of nowhere. Getting a cum stain on his seat was a very small punishment for it.
As you drove back home, angry tears prickled on the corner of your eyes and you wiped them away, smearing your mascara. You had been such a fool for letting yourself be swept by a man who was a literal demon, whose only interest was to take you straight to hell and you gave in to him. Might as well had handened your soul to him on a silver platter. Shouldn’t you have a better sense of self-preservation?
You had been on this road before. You had fallen for the wrong man once. Gave him your whole heart and he smashed into pieces, left you broken and ruined, unable to really trust again. Or so you thought. Because here you were, giving yourself to the wrong person again getting involved in something that would only lead to pain.
You parked the car at the driveway of your parents’ house and headed inside, straight to your bedroom. You all but tore the dress off yourself and stepped into the burning hot shower to wash away every trace of your night with John, scrubbing away the smell of his cologne from your skin.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t wash away the bruises and love bites he left on your neck, hips, and thighs and as you stared at yourself in the mirror of your room you felt an emptiness in your chest. You already missed him.
You slept poorly, tossing and turning, your dreams haunted by John’s face and his smell and his touch and you longed for him so much you woke up in the early hours of the morning gasping his name, the emptiness almost crushing you.
You needed to see him and talk to him and feel him… You needed him. But you didn’t know where he went when he disappeared in thin air like that. You didn’t know anything about him. Nothing except he was a demon and could hear your thoughts and feel what you felt, but you didn’t know how close he needed to be for that.
You felt silly sitting on your bed, eyes squeezed shut in concentration as you shouted his name in your head.
‘JOHN! Can you hear me? JOHN!’
There was a shift in the air, a lingering smell of sulfur and when you opened your eyes, John was standing there, in sweatpants and a white shirt, hair messy and dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he slept as badly as you did.
“You don’t have to shout,” he said with a yawn. “I can hear you just fine.”
“Well how am I supposed to know how good reception is in hell?” you said, standing up to face him, arms crossed over your chest.
“Is there where you think I go?” He asked with a small amused snort and you shrugged, your cheeks heating up. “I’m staying at a hotel, darling. Getting in and out of hell isn’t exactly an easy trip.”
“Oh,” you said dumbly. “So, when I summoned you…”
“I was already in town that’s why I answered,” he explained, taking a seat on the edge of your bed and reaching for you. After a moment of hesitation, you let him pull you closer until you were standing between his legs and he rested his cheek against your belly.
“You live on Earth then?” you asked, combing your fingers through his hair. The emptiness was finally gone now that you were touching him. He nodded, his hands running up your thighs as he nuzzled your stomach. “And you have a regular job and everything?”
“Even demons have bills to pay,” he replied with a chuckle, looking up at you and for the first time, you noticed his eyes weren’t black, but a warm shade of brown. “I restore antique books.”
“So that was why you were at Callum’s,” you said, bending down to kiss him, sighing happily against his lips. You should be furious. He abandoned you yesterday but at the sight of him, all the anger bled out from you.
“I’m sorry, darling” John whispered against your mouth. “I shouldn’t have left like that. I was just…”
“Confused? Overwhelmed?” you offered, and John nodded, pulling you to sit on his lap. “Why?”
“I’m a demon, I’m not supposed to feel,” he said, tracing your face. “But you, my darling, are making me feel everything.”
“Love?” you asked, hesitantly and John nodded. “Me too.”
“I know,” he smiled, cradling your face and you scrunched up your nose as he kissed it. John chuckled.
“It’s not fair, you know? You know everything about me, and I don’t know anything about you. I don’t even know if your real name is John.”
“It isn’t.”
“What is it then?”
“I can’t tell you,” John replied with a sigh, caressing your cheek.
“Can’t or won’t?” you challenged.
“Can’t. Names have power in my world. Giving someone your name is giving them control over you.”
“Is that why you call me darling all the time?” you asked, earning a soft smile.
“Part of it, yes,” he said, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “But mostly is because I like you.”
“So, what can you tell me? About yourself?”
John took a deep breath before he started to tell you about his human life. He told you about how he killed so many people that it wasn’t really a surprise his soul went straight to hell when he died at age 49. He told you about the torture he endured before becoming a demon himself and being allowed to go back to his old home, New York. He told you about his job of collecting and corrupting souls, but that you already knew. John never lied to you about it.
“So, is there a point system or something?” you asked as a joke. “How many points did I get by having my brains fucked out by a demon?”
John stood up so suddenly you nearly fell out of his lap. It was only your quick reflexes that made you catch your footing as he moved away from you.
“Don’t kid about that,” he said, his voice turning hard. “It’s not funny.”
“John…” you started, reaching for him but he pulled away from you, eyes haunted.
“No. We need to end this deal before…” he trailed off, shaking his head.
“Before what?” you asked, taking a step towards him again. “Before my soul is damned for all eternity? John, I told you, I don’t…”
“I care!” he shouted cutting you off. “I don’t want you to go through what I did. I can’t break the deal, but I can stop tainting you. Maybe that will be enough…” He shook his head again and his eyes were so full of pain it broke your heart. “I’ll be back tonight to take you to the wedding, our deal will be done, and you will never see me again.”
Before you could say a word of protest, he was gone again, and you wanted to scream. One of these days, you were gonna learn a way to keep him from leaving you like that.
—
As John fixed his tie for the night, he felt a lump on his throat. This was the last time he was going to see her, and it was breaking his heart but he knew it was for the best. If he stopped now he would be able to save her, keep her from having the same destiny he had. Unlike John, she didn’t deserve eternal damnation. Not if what Marcus told him was true. She was the last person in the world that deserve it.
Last night, when John poured his heart out to his friend, it only took him saying her name for Marcus to understand what was happening. The purity John felt on her was the remains of the angelic powers that allowed her birth. She was a miracle. A literal fucking miracle, which meant at the same rate that John tainted her soul, she redeemed his. That was why he was feeling emotions again and falling in love. He was turning back to human as he damned her soul to hell.
If it was anyone else John would jump at the chance of being human again, free of hell’s influence and with the opportunity of doing things differently, lead a normal life. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was her and he wouldn’t risk her soul. Who would have thought John one day would put someone else above himself? Definitely not him.
With one last look at the mirror, John wondered what happened to him. How could he have changed so much in just under two days? Here he was, wearing his familiar black suit, his hair gelled back and once upon a time the sight of him in this outfit would strike fear in the hearts of humans and demons alike. Tonight, all he could see when he looked at himself was a pale shadow of the imposing figure he used to be.
With a sigh, he searched for his car keys and remembered he left with her. Once again she was waiting for him at the door and stepped out as soon as he knocked. She threw the keys his way and John opened the passenger door for her. She got in without a word, but he could feel the tentative glances she kept sending him and the way her pretty lips would part as if she was about to say something to him but thought better of it, remaining silent.
The tense silence between them endured through the entire trip to the church and John was almost thankful for the fact that she was the maid of honor and had to sit in the front roll with the rest of the wedding entourage while he hung in the back.
The ceremony was shorter than he expected and soon enough they were on their way to the party, being greeted by the newly wedded couple. As John shook hands with the groom, he caught the way the bride whispered something to her, apparently catching the tension between them. Once again she lied, this time much more smoothly. He barely felt the taste of her sin. It made him worry for her soul. Was he too late?
Guilt gnawed his guts with an intensity he never felt before, not even when he was human, and John wished he had the power to speed time and end this party already. He wanted to be done with this deal before he ruined her completely. John headed for the bar, ordering himself a bourbon which he swallowed in one go, enjoying the burn on his tongue and throat. He pushed a hundred dollars bill to the bartender.
“I don’t wanna see this glass empty for the rest of the night,” he said and the man nodded, immediately refilling the glass while he pocketed the money.
John kept watching her from afar, they way she was talking and laughing with her friends, actually enjoying herself. Sometimes she would glance his way. Worry and pain would flash in her eyes and that was enough to break his heart all over again, make him move away, out of her sight.
He moved to one of the quieter corners of the party. Hoping some distance could dull some of the pain he felt for hurting her, even if it was the only way to protect her. John nursed his drink, counting the minutes for the party to be over while he mulled over the favor he had to ask her to end this deal once in for all.
He was so distracted with brooding, his senses a little hindered by the alcohol that it took John a while to pick up her discomfort. As soon as he did, he was on his feet, searching for her and wasn’t even surprised to find her once against cornered by Ryan.
“I really need to talk to you,” Ryan said, and she sighed.
“Ryan, this isn’t a good time,” she replied, trying to sidestep him but he grabbed her arm. The sight of him touching her had John seething and as he was about to intervene, he heard her voice in his head.
‘Stay out of it.’ He froze in place. John didn’t even know she had noticed his approach.
“Fine! Talk.” She pulled her arm from Ryan’s grip, crossing them over her chest and glaring daggers at him.
Ryan stayed quiet as if he was figuring out what he wanted to say. John took a peek at his confused thoughts, realizing what the other man was about to do only seconds before the words were out of Ryan’s mouth.
“I still love you.” Her eyes went wide in shock at his words. “I never wanted to leave you but your father… he made me. I regretted the second I stepped in that bus.”
“My dad made you leave?” she asked, and John could feel her confusion. “How?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Ryan shook his head, trying to wave the question away and John couldn’t help but snort, drawing their attention to his presence.
“That’s not true, is it, Ryan?” John said stepping closer until he was standing next to her. “It does matter.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ryan hissed, glaring at John.
“Your father offered him a check,” John declared, shifting his attention to her before Ryan could say anything else. “And he took it.”
He watched as she swallowed hard, her eyes glistening as she glanced back at Ryan. Her hurt was almost crushing, and John had to grab onto the wall to not succumb to it.
“Is this true?” she asked, and Ryan gaped wordlessly. “It is, isn’t it? John doesn’t lie.”
“I…” he started his expression angsty. “I regret taking that money every single day. I swear. If I could turn back time…” She shook her head and snorted, tears streaking down her face.
“You know, I never thought you could hurt me anymore than you had done that night,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I was wrong.”
Turning on her heels, she walked away. Ryan made a motion to follow but John stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
“I think you’ve done enough,” John said with a dangerous glare. “You should go back to your date and leave her alone.”
“Or what?” Ryan challenged emboldened by whiskey and John almost felt tempted in letting him take the first blow just so he would have an excuse to break this man.
“Or you’ll regret it,” John replied, his eyes turning fully black.
The terror in Ryan’s face as he stumbled back and away was quite satisfying and John chuckled as the man ran away. His amusement faded at the overwhelming feeling of pain making him choke up and his eyes burn. John didn’t even know he could still cry. He followed the path she had taken, finding her sitting outside, face in her hands.
“I’m a good person,” she declared startling John as she turned to look at him. “I am, right? I mean I’m no saint, but I follow the law and protect citizens. I recycle and I help old people cross the street… I’m a good person.”
“Darling…” he sighed, taking her hand in his. “You’re way more than just good. You have one of the purest souls I have ever encountered.”
“So why does it feel like I’m being punished all the time?” she asked with a sniffle. “I thought I was over Ryan and here he is, breaking my heart all over again and you… You can’t even bear look at me.”
“You know how I feel about you,” John said with a shaky breath and she snorted.
“Do I?” she stood up, hugging herself. “You never told me.”
John stood as well, bringing her into his embrace and catching her lips for a kiss.
“I love you, my darling,” he whispered against her mouth, her hot tears wetting his cheeks. John wasn’t sure if she was crying because she was still hurt and raw or because the wedding was almost over and every second that passed brought them closer to completing their bargain.
John cradled her face in his hands, looking into her eyes, he needed to ask his favor now. There was only one thing he wanted but it was the only thing he couldn’t have. Not if he wanted to protect her.
“Please forgive me,” he asked instead, his voice breaking slightly.
“There’s nothing to forgive, John,” she said with a confused frown.
“Not yet,” John sighed, tracing her face, committing it to memory.
“That’s the favor, isn’t it?” she asked, eyes welling up again and John nodded. “I forgive you, John.”
“Thank you,” he said with a sigh. There was just one thing left to do now.
John brushed away the rest of her tears from her cheeks before he caught her lips in a kiss. It was slow and full of longing, but when John finally pulled away from her, he could no longer hear or feel her. The deal was finished.
“Goodbye, darling,” he whispered against her lips before fading into the night, leaving her for the last time.
—
You stood in the cemetery in front of the tombstone, jewelry box in hand as you contemplated if you were really going through with this. It had been six months since Claire’s wedding. Six months since your entire life had been turned upside down. Not only you had run into the man you thought had been the love of your life after years without seeing him, but he also confessed that he still loved you and why he had left.
When you got back to your parents’ house that night the fight had been epic. How dare your father mess with your life like that? Pay your boyfriend to abandon you, break your heart.
“I don’t regret it,” he said, his tone never wavering. “A broken heart is easier to mend than a ruined life. You’re my only daughter. I wasn’t gonna let that scumbag end your future. Hate me all you want but if he really loved you, he wouldn’t have taken a cent. No matter how much I offered.”
You had no answer to that, so you just stumped your way back to your room, slamming the door shut like a teenager throwing a temper tantrum. Deep down you knew he was right. If Ryan had stayed, would you have gone to college? Police academy? Would you have met John?
Your heart arched as your thoughts traveled back to the demon. You understood why he did what he did. He was trying to protect you, save you from hell, even if his job was to do the exact opposite. However, you hated that he took the choice away from you. You would have gladly damned your soul to hell if you got to keep him, but that wasn’t an option. Not anymore apparently.
You went back to your life, trying to put the entire thing behind you. You eventually forgave your dad and looked up Ryan’s girlfriend, telling her everything that had happened at the wedding. Was it vindictive and petty of you? Yes. Did you regret it? Absolutely not. Especially when she showed you the video of her burning every single piece of clothes Ryan owned when she dumped him. It was entertaining as hell and you made an amazing new friend. All in all, your father was right, and you dodged a bullet getting rid of Ryan. Warning Maggie was just your way of paying it forward.
As the weeks went by, you threw yourself into work, expecting the gaping hole in your heart to diminish, but it didn’t. You missed John and nothing could make that better. Maybe that was what made you a little more daring, a little more reckless in your job.
You started to always be the first through the door of any dangerous situation, the first to draw your weapon and confront perps. You kept toeing the line and lost count of how many times you got yelled by your Captain or how many close calls you got. It was in one of these calls that you found yourself face to face with a man called Charon.
You were stepping out of the 99th precinct after spending a week chasing this guy who killed his wife. You managed to nail him, but it was a close call and you were exhausted and ready to sleep for a whole day. Instead, you were confronted with Charon waiting outside a black sedan as he called your name and opened the passenger door for you.
“My employee would like to have a word with you about a mutual acquaintance,” Charon said after introducing himself.
“What mutual acquaintance?” You asked with an arched eyebrow.
“You might know him as John Wick.”
You were inside the car as fast as your legs could carry you and Charon drove to a fancy hotel called the Continental, leading the way to the rooftop overlooking the New York skyline where a man with greying hair and in an elegant cravat sipped tea.
“So you’re the reason my most efficient demon has been in suffering for weeks.” His voice was deep and gravelly; his eyes dark and piercing as he turned your way, giving you a quick once-over. “Are you aware of what you’ve done to Jonathan?”
“We made a deal, but that’s…
“Over?” Winston cut you off with a snort. “The deal might be, but the repercussions… you started him in the path of redemption. Now every soul he takes causes him great pain. He’s useless to High Table like that. As a soul collector at least.”
His words sparked hope in your chest. if John was useless to hell, maybe…
“Maybe you get to keep him?” Winston voiced your thoughts, his lips drawing into a smirk. “You do love him, don’t you?”
“Yes.” You didn’t flinch or hesitate at the word. You weren’t afraid of it anymore.
Winston just nodded, glancing to the side when Charon appeared, handing him a small black book and a rolled-up parchment, yellowed and frail.
“How about we strike a deal, my dear?” Winston started, moving closer to you. “We recently had a breach in our gates and a few, shall we say, strays got loose. Hell isn’t chaos, you know? We have a strict balance to keep.”
“Ok and?” you asked, arching your eyebrow at him. You think you knew where this was going, but you wanted to make sure.
“We could use some help in herding these strays back to where they belong,” Winston continued. “Help from someone with special abilities. With enough power to find and bind them.”
“You think I have that?” you asked, and Winston snorted.
“If you could summon John, you can definitely find these lost souls and lower demons,” he said with a flick of his hand. “Just by looking at you I can see the raw potential. You just need a proper master to teach you.”
“Say I accept this, what do I get?” you asked, watching as Winston smirked.
“Exactly what you want,” he said showing her the parchment. “John’s contract.”
“He’ll be free?” you asked, your heart hammering in your chest.
“As free as he can be as a demon.”
“I accept,” you declared, stepping up to Winston but he stopped you by raising his hand.
“A simple handshake will surface with me, dear,” he said, offering his hand. When your palm touched his, a sharp burning pain in your wrist made you hiss. There was now a black mark etched on your skin. “Just insurance. If you do not follow my terms, John’s soul remains with me and I’ll have yours.”
“I should’ve read the fine print, huh?” you said with a derisive snort and Winston smirked, handing you the book and a business card.
“Learn what you need first, then you get what you want.”
With one last nod, you walked away from Winston and started your deep dive into the supernatural world. learning everything you could find on heaven and hell; demons and angels; lost souls and anything else you could find under the guidance of a witch doctor by the name of Bowery King.
Now here you stood, six months later with brand-new skills and exactly what you needed to get what you wanted. You just hoped you got the right grave otherwise this was going to be awkward.
With a deep breath, you set the box on the ground. Aash and bone and silver already inside. Only one thing missing. You took out the small vial of blood you had collected earlier that day. One of the things the King taught you was that just because magic was an ancient force didn’t mean it needed to be archaic. Blood drawn with a syringe worked just as well as drawn from a cut but hurt way less and didn’t leave you vulnerable to infection.
You dripped the blood in the box and whispered the same words you had said that night at the crossroad. This time you didn’t stumble over your Latin and you finished with a name:
“Jardani Jovanovic.” For a while, nothing happened and then a shudder ran through you when you heard his voice.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” his tone was harsh and angry, and you had to smile. Damn, you had missed him.
“Well hello to you too, John,” you said turning to face him. “Or do you prefer Jardani?” He almost stumbled back in shock.
“Where did you hear that name?” he asked, voice shaking, and you stepped closer to him.
“Well, it wasn’t easy to find out. All I had to start was that you were 49 and died in New York. Do you know how much I had to dig to find out your human identity? I’m on a first-name basis with every single employee at the Public Library. But I found you, John.”
“Good for you,” he growled. “You still shouldn’t have done this, summoned me or any other demon for that matter. You have no idea what you’re doing.” He turned around to leave but froze at your next words.
“I met Winston.”
“What?” John looked back at you with wide eyes.
“Winston. That’s your boss, right?” you said, stepping towards him again and before you could even think about stopping him, John grabbed your right hand, turning your wrist so he could see the black marker on your skin.
“Darling, what have you done? After everything I did to keep your soul safe…”
“I never asked you to do that,” you pointed out, anger coloring your tone. “At least Winston gave me a choice. You just made it for me!”
“I did what I had to do!” He hissed, eyes flashing with anger as he let go of you. “Whatever it is you think you’re doing; I want no part on it. I will not help you damn your soul to hell.”
You saw his eyes turning the familiar black they usually did when he was using his powers to vanish but this time nothing happened. John looked at you in confusion and you smirked, nodding at his feet and he glanced down at the devil’s trap you had drawn before you summoned him.
“Have a little faith, Jonathan. I do know what I’m doing now. You don’t have to worry about my soul. As a matter of fact, I’m here to save yours.”
“What?” John looked at you with a frown and you smiled.
“I can get your contract,” you explained, taking out the black book from your jacket pocket. “I just have to wrangle up a few hundred escapees from hell and I could use some help. So how about a deal?”
“I help you and you give me my contract?” John asked, his anger long gone, leaving only hope and you nodded with a smile. “And then what? We drive out into the sunset together? I know Winston, darling. And I know the High Table. It’s not gonna be that easy.”
“Probably not.” You shrugged. “But it’s a shot at least. More than we had before. John, I’m doing this with or without you. If you don’t want this, just say the word. I’ll break the trap and…”
You didn’t get to finish your sentence before John was smashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss. You grinned against his mouth, arms going around his neck and soon enough you felt it running through you, the thrum of power as the deal was sealed.
‘Can you hear me?’ You thought just to make sure, and John pulled back grinning.
“Yes,” he said bringing your hand to his lips. “And I can feel you.”
“Yeah? And how am I feeling?” you asked, combing your fingers through his hair and resting your forehead against his, sighing.
“Happy.”