#Tune in next week for the Epilogue of my Persephone series and thank you for all of those who stuck around and enjoyed it

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Persephone | John Wick x Reader (Fifteen) [Final]

Words: 3863

Warning: Usual JW-verse violence, minor swearing

A/N: Thank you all for reading this series. There will be an Epilogue posted after this. I started this series from a few ideas I had that I wanted to try and I never thought it would get as much attention as it had. It was a learning process, making a series this long, and I’m grateful for the people that stuck with it. It may not have been what you have expected at the beginning of the series, but I hope that the ending will be satisfying enough. Trust me, it wasn’t what I was expecting when I started to write this series, either. The Epilogue will help tie up some loose ends.

Previously: You and John are a few steps closer to leaving the Underworld, but it will never be easy. You try to convince the Elder that the rules need to be changed, that the current system bred greed that turned men into animals instead of separating them, and stopping Sokolov would be a start. But, there was one more test that you had to pass.

Persephone Series Masterlist

-

Five years ago, John Wick had the chance to shoot you down, but he didn’t. You thought that it would be the last time you saw him. Both of you would have been out of the Underworld for good after that night. Yet, here you both were. Tasked to shoot each other to seal the deal. After the Sokolov situation is dealt with you can leave without any disturbance from the Underworld.

Would John shoot you? This may be his last chance in leaving for good. Despite all those quiet moments, those subtle and not so subtle intimate gestures, you were not official. Those three words were never uttered by either of you, two lonely people seeking affection while trying to stay alive.

You loaded your own gun as you stared down at John’s, not breaking eye contact with him. Right here and now, what was tying you down to the Underworld?

John breaks eye contact first, his brown eyes shifting towards the Elder for a split second before going back to you. He gives a subtle nod and places a finger on the trigger. You blinked, an intruding thought that he was setting you up flashed through your mind, but as long as you refuse to shoot John, you will be shot either way.

You swing your gun towards the Elder and shoot.

Two guns fired, the sound louder than you expected, but as you mind race to catch up with the situation, you realized that the Elder was fine. You weren’t. You dropped your gun and stumbled back, redness blooming on your shirt from a hole that ripped through the fabric and hitting your stomach. You had no time to look over at John as the pain began to fully register and overwhelm you, your body falling back with a thud.

Darkness enveloped you once again.

-

“Where are we going? Mom? Dad?”

You couldn’t see the features of the tall figures in front of you, dragging you away from the car and towards a large strange building. It looked scary to you. It seemed to you, that you were a lot younger in this vision than you actually were when the event happened. Everything felt bigger and scarier to you, but you couldn’t move.

“Mom? I don’t like this-” you found yourself saying.

“Shut up!” a woman’s voice snapped, making you freeze instantly, the waver in her voice barely noticeable. As the woman turned, a teardrop landed on your face. A hand yanked your arm and continued to drag you into the building. “This is to keep you safe.”

You were suddenly in a dance studio, one wall lined with stained windows, the other lined with spotless mirrors. There were older girls twirling around in leotards, their eyes glancing at you every now and again. Some in indifference, others in pity.

“I want to go home!” you shouted.

A figure in a black outfit approached you and leaned down to your eye level. “This is your home now,” they said.

When you blinked, the inkyness of your vision cleared, revealing the figure to be Ophelia, with her piercing blue eyes and brown hair, streaks of gray already showing. She gave a sickly sweet smile and tilted her head.

“The world is a dangerous place, my dear. One should be careful with who you deal with. If you be a good girl, maybe I’ll let you see your parents again.”

“You promise?”

Ophelia chuckled, her voice distorting into a deep and low rumbling sound. “I promise.”

You blinked, finding yourself on a large fishing boat, your vorpal blade in hand. You crept through the vessel, identifying your targets and eliminating as quickly and quietly as possible. Once the last target was killed, you turned and saw Caius who held a Marker. He pricked his thumb and pressed it on one side of the Marker and handed it to you.

“Now I owe you,” he said.

You were planning on using it to get out of the theater. In the end, he did repay the debt. At least one of them kept their word.

You blinked again, your feet buried in warm sand, the salty air filling your nostrils as the ocean water tumbled in.

“(Y/n),” a voice called out to you, your heart leaping when you recognized who it was.

“John? What is this? This isn’t a memory,” you said, pulling your feet out of the sand and walked towards him.

John was wearing a plain white T-shirt and khaki shorts, the most casual you had ever seen him. He smiled as you approached him, large hands raising up to cup your face. You leaned into his touch and hummed.

He sighed, his thumb stroking your cheeks. “You are still naive,” he said.

The smile dropped from your face, feeling as if the cold ocean water had hit you. The coldness was replaced by a searing hot pain in your stomach. Blood stained your hands as you try to staunch it. You looked up at John who was now wearing a black suit, coldness in his eyes, and a smoking gun in his hand. That wasn’t John. That was the Boogeyman.

“You are no longer of use to me,” he said monotonously before raising his gun.

There was a flash a light, but there was no sound. You felt the air rushed out of your lungs, your body falling back in slow motion.

-

You woke up with a gasp, sucking in as much air as you can, tears staining your face as your body racked in pain. The bed dipped and you felt a warm body hold you close, the familiar scent of roses enveloping you.

“Sh, it’s okay,” Rozaliya said softly, “let it all out.”

You wrapped your arms around Rozaliya and cried. It was the hardest cry you had ever done since your first night training under the Instructor. You weren’t even able to cry as much when you found out your parents had died. It was only rage at that point.

By the time you were done, your throat and mouth was sore, the energy already seeping out of you. Then you remembered you were shot. Your hands went to your stomach where it was carefully bandaged.

“They brought you two here,” Rozaliya explained, “I’ll let you read the note once you rest up. There’s painkillers on the bedside table if you need it, but we had a doctor give some anaesthetic.”

“Two?”

“Hm? Oh, John’s here, too. He had more injuries than you did. Nothing too serious, though.” She paused, trying to interpret your facial expressions. She thought you’d be relieved. You were frowning, trying to replay the events that transpired. “I can check if he’s up if you want.”

You shake your head. “How long was I out?”

“Not too long. A whole day? Rest up, okay?”

You nodded, lying back down and sighed. Rozaliya gave you a sympathetic smile before leaving the room. Once she was gone, you sat back up, taking the two painkillers and washing them down with water. You needed to read that note.

The painkillers had yet to kick in as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed before heaving yourself up, one hand still clutching at your stomach as you stumbled around for your clothes. Once you were dressed, you looked around the room for the note and realized that Rozaliya must have held onto it until you were done resting.

There was a soft knock on the door and you paused, wondering if you should answer it or pretend that you were asleep.

“I heard you moving around,” John said.

You shuffled over to the door and cracked it open. John had his button shirt open, revealing cuts and bruises and a blood stained bandage around his stomach. He held out a piece of paper for you to take, folded neatly with a wax seal on it.

“Can I come in?”

You nodded, opening the door wider and took the paper from him. He closed the door behind him and looked around the room that you had been using while you were with the Romanovas. You sat down on the bed and patted the space next to you.

“I had given Jonathan Wick one last chance of living, and he had thrown it away. I had also given you, (Y/n) (Y/l/n), specific instructions to shoot him if he ever disobeys again, and you decided to turn your gun on me instead. These offenses would have had you killed on the spot with your bodies either buried in the desert, to be lost forever in the endless sand, or be used as an example to never challenge the High Table again.

“But, I have predicted as much. It was a test, you see. To see much you two have changed. I knew of your history as well as Jonathan’s, and when I heard that the two of you were back for revenge, I could feel the storm brewing towards the desert that I reside in.

“You were right, the system does need to change. To see two of the most skilled, stubborn, determined, focused, and strong-willed assassins change is proof that it could be done. You know as well as I do, that this world needs rules. But, allowing power to rule our minds makes us no different than the animals that ravage their way to the top.

“I am giving you and Jonathan one final chance. Complete this task, and the two of you will be able to live. I want you two to kill Gavriil Sokolov and his people, whoever he is associated with. Do that, and you and Jonathan will be able to walk away from all of this on the promise that you will live a peaceful life away from the Underworld and anything associated with it. But, you will answer our call when you are needed. This is the trade off I can give you as an alternative to living and serving under the Table forever. I will give you twenty-four hours. The count starts once you contact my representative.”

You lowered the letter and fell back on the bed with a slight bounce. John remained sitting, his broad back facing you. He gently took the letter from your hand and read it over again, making sure he understood it correctly. It would be his luck that they require his services when he’s the most content in his new life, if he’s ever granted it.

“There was this strange thought that ran through me head…,” you began, “that you’d shoot me.”

John folded the letter up and turned his head to look down at you. “I thought you’d shoot me,” he said.

“I would never do that,” you said quickly.

He looked away and it made you recall the day you were training with him, when he asked you if you were trained to kill him. You asked him if he believed you would. ‘Only if you had to,’ he said. You purse your lips and tugged at his arm, telling him to lie down with you. He relented, settling down with a tired sigh.

“We’re expected to kill people with holes in our stomachs,” he muttered, turning to face you.

You huffed out a laugh and winced at the dull pain. “Don’t make me laugh,” you groaned, but you found yourself smiling.

You looked back at him and saw something in his eyes that made your heart swell, but your mind telling you that it was too good to be true. There was a gentleness, warmth, trust, and maybe… Something that you hadn’t addressed before. From what you went through, you didn’t know what that four letter word actually was. Perhaps it was what you felt for the Romanovas, who took you in as part of their family, or even Cerberus, whose presence would scare all the demons in your mind away.

You opened your mouth, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him. To tell him that you think you might actually be… you might actually be in love with him. That itself made you feel a thrill run through you. But it also made you feel scared. It felt like gambling in a game you didn’t know the rules of, just learning as you go.

Rozaliya had been looking for John and found the two of you sleeping next to each other. John’s body was shielding you from the door, while you were wrapped up in his arms, snuggling closer. Rozaliya waved her mother over and smirked. Nastya tutted and shared a knowing look with her before closing the door quietly.

-

“Why is there so much pockets?” John grunted as you pulled on your suit jacket over your custom made utility belt.

“Because pockets are great. Do you know how many women’s jeans don’t have actual pockets?” you said, stuffing the pockets with gadgets and grenades.

“A terrifying amount?”

“Exactly. Maybe I’ll make a small clothing store with clothes that actually have pockets, right next to my flower shop.”

John had a small smile of amusement on his face. “Two businesses? Need any help?”

You paused and turned to him. “Thought you’d want to do your own thing,” you said with a shrug, going back to adjusting your hidden blade.

Actually, you didn’t have much trouble picturing him hanging around the store, being tall enough to reach the top shelves, meticulously organizing inventory, and watching for any thieves sneaking anything in their bag. Maybe a few customers would hit on him now and again. Cerberus could be a guard dog, with a custom designed vest and everything. That image almost made you smile, but you schooled your face before facing him.

“The only other thing I’ve learned that I’m good at outside of killing was book binding,” he admitted.

“I’m sure you’re good at other things,” you said without thinking. John raised an eyebrow and smirked. Your face heated as you tried to backtrack. “I mean, I’m sure when we have the time we could… you could find other… hobbies. Um… not that book binding seems bad or boring, it actually sounds cool, but I meant… that… um, I’m going to call Caius and see if he has everything ready on his end.”

With that, you left the room swiftly, passing a sneaking Rozaliya on the way out. You gave her an accusing look for eavesdropping, but she brushed it off with a smile, gesturing for you to go ahead and make that phone call. You sighed and left while Rozaliya slipped into the room.

John glanced up as he put on his tie, looking at her questioningly. She smiled and helped him tie it.

“She hasn’t had a proper relationship,” Rozaliya said softly. John remained silent, so she continued, tightening the tie too tight, making him grunt. “And if you ever hurt her, I will kill you.”

“I think she’d do it herself,” he said gruffly, loosening the tie.

Rozaliya raised an eyebrow. “You and I both know she won’t.”

“Why?”

She scoffed, stepping back and placed her hands on her hips. “Don’t act so daft, Mr. Wick. It’s unbecoming of you. The same reason why you’re here instead of out there murdering every single person that wronged you by yourself. The same reason why you let her name your dog and follow her around like a large puppy, listening to her intently, and holding hands. The same reason why you refused to shoot her when given a chance of freedom. Just… take care of her and yourself, John Wick, okay?”

John nodded. “I will.”

She studied him for a moment, then said, “Don’t think you’re undeserving of happiness.”

Rozaliya grabbed his hand and slipped a small object in his hand and walked away, leaving John alone with his thoughts. He looked down at the object and saw that it was his wedding ring that he had surrendered to the Elder all those months ago. If he could survive this, maybe he could actually earn the life that he wanted. Speaking to Helen, even if it was only in spirit brought closure to him, knowing that serving the rest of his days under the Table was something she wouldn’t want him to do just live and remember her. She would want him to move on, and deep down, he knew that she would approve of a quiet life with you and Cerberus.

He tucked his ring in his jacket pocket and headed out to the library where Yevgeni was waiting. He nodded at him and gestured to a long table with an array of weapons laid out before him.

“Help yourself to our collection, Mr. Wick,” Yevgeni said.

The sooner he gets this final task done, the sooner he can finally rest.

John approached the table and grabbed a pump-action shotgun. It was time to hunt.

-

It was divide and conquer. Three confirmed hangouts of Sokolov and his associates and you had less than twenty-four hours to finish the task after having contacted the Adjudicator. One of these hangouts housed Gavriil Sokolov and the Adjudicator would want to be there to give the sentence. It would be a bonus if the Bowery King was there as well. Any of their henchmen who do not repent, will be executed. If neither Sokolov or the Bowery King are found, then a bounty will be placed on them.

While planning, the Adjudicator made it clear that they did not want you and John at the same location, so you relented and had to split up with Caius taking over on the third location. It was a pretty straightforward operation. Storm the hangout, locate the targets, and report your findings. When the task is done, the Adjudicator said that a boat will be waiting at the docks with your things already packed and ready to take you away from the Underworld.

“See you on the other side of the war,” you said, as John mounted the motorcycle.

He nodded, looking down at the bike before pulling you close. You buried your nose in his hair and wrapped your arms tightly around him.

“See you on the other side of the war,” he muttered back.

This should be the last time you kill anyone. Until the Elder summons you, of course, but that’s something you’ll have to deal with later.

When the mission started, you knew you couldn’t slip back into your former assassin mode. Not like how John could switch on the Boogeyman. For you, the Persephone that everyone knew was gone. This persona that you used was someone in the middle. You had an actual goal, an attainable one, now.

You snuck on the roof of a nearby building across from the warehouse and scouted the area. There seemed to be more guards patrolling the area, the top floors sealed with metal bars. According to Aaron Kostas, Sokolov preferred to have the highest floor with as much guards surrounding him as possible.

You cracked your neck and sighed. You would need to confirm by sight to be sure before reporting it in. But first things first, you needed to get rid of the guards. Then, cover the exits, work your way through the warehouse, and confirm whether Sokolov was in the building or not.

After watching their patrol patterns, you managed to dispatch them one by one without alerting anyone. You then stuck small explosive devices under their vehicles and planted signal jammers before sneaking into the warehouse.

Everything was like clockwork. You use the vehicles to create a distraction, drawing more men out to investigate. Attack their senses and disarm them using smoke grenades and your special gas that causes their guns to explode when fired, then strike them down. The commotion urges them to move Sokolov to a safer place. There would be no vehicles left to use and they would be unable to call for backup.

It was pitiful to see Sokolov cowering in a corner of a small office room, a barricade of wooden crates and tables surrounding him as he crouched down with a handgun. To think that this type of man had caused all of this trouble just for control on the High Table.

There were still a handful of guards blocking your way to him. You recognized half as former Bowery Boys, the others a mixture of other factions, judging by their tattoos. You reach into your pocket and turned off the signal jammers, sending out a quick message to the Adjudicator before approaching the guards.

This was it. Take the guards out and let the Adjudicator deal with Sokolov. You braced yourself, your heart pounding hard in your chest like a war drum as they start to charge, your katana at the ready.

-

You limped out of the warehouse, feeling icky and sore throughout your body, the odd sense of weights hovering above your shoulders. The Adjudicator walked out with you, gloves in hand as their men cleaned out the warehouse. The problem has been dealt with, but it didn’t feel like it was completely over. Something was missing. Something that would pull the weights completely off.

And there it was. The sound of a motor driving closer, a familiar silhouette makes its way towards your worn out body.

John pulled up in front of you on a motorcycle, looking equally exhausted but still handsome as ever. You let out a long sigh, trudging over to him. His brown eyes scanned you over, a mixture of concern and relief on his face. Concern for the injuries, several cuts, a few forming bruises, and another bullet wound, but relief that you were alive.

“Gavriil Sokolov had been dealt with and his network will be pulled apart, but the Bowery King has escaped once again. And, Mr. Wick, Miss (Y/l/n), I believe you’ve kept your part of the deal,” The Adjudicator said while their car pulled up, “But do not forget, when we call on you, you will answer.”

“Of course,” you said. John gave a firm nod, which the Adjudicator returned.

“Very well. Mr. Wick, Miss (Y/l/n),” they pull out a piece of paper from their pocket and handed it to you, “this is the docks where your boat will be waiting to take you. This is goodbye for now and I sincerely hope that we never reach a time where we need your services.”

With that, they climbed into their car and drove away, leaving you and John in front of the warehouse. You limped forward and touched his cheek, feeling the texture of his beard, making sure that he was real.

He smiled and said, “Let’s go home.”

You nodded, a smile making its way on your lips. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

You climbed onto the bike and wrapped your arms tightly around his middle, ignoring the ache in your muscles and being careful of his bullet wound. You breathed in his scent and relished the wind brushing through your hair as the two of you finally left the Underworld together, never once looking back.

-

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