john is a man of calculated, impersonal focus. bones lined with steel – like a comic book character – only in a metaphorical sense. his blood runs colder than ice in his veins. a brief glimpse of the other side was all he’d gotten. a taste of how sweet life could be had he not been wicked. it’s an exhibition of a core belief he holds: everything has a price. so now the very employ that’s willfully aided him in damning his soul now seeks to send him to retribution. not that he’s undeserving of such a fate – rules are rules & this was a life filled with decisions he’d made for himself, mostly. 

        but damn anyone that looks to take this life away from him now.

        the cool skin of her hand stills his coming stride. it warms as the hold persists, drawing him back from threshold of rage & deep, vast agony that he keeps in his heart. words melt into his ears, & the fingers affectionately running along his scruffy jawline recalling memories of the dearly departed.

          “ they won’t stop. “

        not until he’s dead, at least. with such a hefty price on his head, too, everyone’s got a personal stake in it. “ but it isn’t a cause for concern. “ he assures. “ not for you. “

        because he’ll stick by her until the time is right, but once he’s ready to go loud with his intentions, he’ll be sure she’s far removed from him before commencing with them.