AN: This originally was going to be an angsty oneshot in Careese Themes but it kind of expanded into a mini little ficlet because well my muse is mean to me and keeps finding inspiration in tiny things. It's set in season 4 but there are two things that make it AU; one, Joss is alive and secondly John is a detective but not a homicide detective as Joss is still alive but rather he's in the Gang Unit. Otherwise everything else is from the show.
This takes place just after 4x13. If you haven't watched season 4 I tried to make it easy to follow but if you are lost anywhere PM me and I'll let you know.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
I was going to post this later but I'm not sure if I'll be able to come on later, so I decided to post now :) Sorry for overloading and annoying everyone with stories.
Joss was sitting on her couch with her legs under her, sipping wine, thinking about her life, Shaw, her friends, and John. She couldn't even think of John as a friend as he meant more, so much more to her than that. But was it ever going to be their time to finally get things right between them? They weren't strictly friends anymore, maybe they never were, and they both were excellent at burying how they felt. At first it was a necessity, now it was habit. But she couldn't pretend to herself that they were just friends, brother in arms, or mere comrades working together for the better of the world because the feelings he aroused in her were far deeper than that.
And she wasn't naïve, she knew he had feelings for her that were not strictly platonic either. She had known for a while now that he had some feelings towards her but he hadn't even attempted to approach her about them. John's eyes lingered on her for a nanosecond too long, or his steely blue eyes would grow soft which tended to include some emotion swimming in them that he tried hard to hide. He was good at hiding, but not from her, never from her. She saw through the crap, could see a very vulnerable man hidden beneath all that gruff armor he wore and was just scared to get close. Then there was the fact that she caught him staring at her when he didn't think she was watching. But she was always aware of John. She smirked to herself as she sipped her wine. It was like her spidey-sense, her sixth sense, but she codenamed it lovingly and accordingly as her 'John-dar'.
But there was always something getting in their way; first she had to recover from her wound she got thanks to Simmons, then her friends had to go scattering thanks to that bad super computer they called Samaritan, and now they were co-workers. His desk was in her general vicinity, he worked in the Gang Unit after being transferred out of Narcotics and now was partnered with wet-behind-the-ears Dani Silva, who happened to be a former number and clearly didn't buy into his act. John wasn't exactly coloring the lines of the law all that well. In fact Captain Moreno, on more than one occasion, wanted her to keep an eye on the cowboy in the fancy suit.
Not to mention they had yet to sit down and just talk. Things between them had taken a backseat to what was going on currently and she had been okay with that because she didn't want to put any more stress on him then he already had. Joss could easily see the mounting pressure piling on top of John which worried her, each new day he stepped into the precinct there was a new line of fatigue etched on his face. His shoulders looked tense and she watched him more often than naught roll them as if trying to work away a knot himself. But not once had he complained, however she didn't know how much further he could go without buckling under the tremendous weight of working cases for the precinct, working the numbers, and trying to hide from some bad super computer that any wrong move could be his last. Coupled with all these he was being forced to see a police shrink, and then there was the fact that he was now down a man in Shaw.
Joss shook her head as she thought about her tiny fallen friend. She didn't actually see Shaw get gunned down at the hands of Decima and Samaritan's operatives until she heard a strangled half shout and half sob escape Root. She had been too involved in John to see or know what Shaw had done to save them. Everything was a blur besides John lying on the ground with a wound after taking a bullet to protect Finch. Finch had been so unsteady, so panicked stricken and in shock that she took over the care for John. She shelved her pain over John's blood caking her hands, swallowed her heart back down into her chest while keeping her cool professionalism in place, and just fell apart later at her place. She cried for him and cried for Shaw when she was alone. Joss wasn't even sure had she known what Shaw had planned if she would have been able to convince her not to risk it all and hit the override button for them. Shaw and John had that in common; they did the saving, not anyone else.
There was a soft knock on her door, stirring her out of her musings and got her glancing at the wall mounted clock. Who would be coming to her place at eight-thirty at night? She got to her feet, padding barefoot to the door in just her purple pajama shorts and matching tee, and peeked through the peephole. She started in surprise when she saw who it was. Joss immediately opened the door.
"John, why are you knocking?" she said, more in surprise that he was knocking instead of just picking the lock and letting himself in as if he owned the damn place then him actually being there.
John didn't answer, looked kind of disheveled and in pain. Her eyes scanned his body noting with dismay a crimson stain on that crisp white dress shirt of his, meaning he popped a stitch or two. She clenched her teeth to refrain from barking at him to take more care because he looked ready to drop any second.
She stepped back, letting him in. Joss eyed him softly, knowing the answer but she had to ask. "Did you and Root find Shaw?"
She saw his jaw tick, a slow bob of the Adams' Apple. "No," he managed.
"I'm so sorry, John," Joss said as she shut the door. He looked dazed a bit.
She mutely lifted her hands removing his long wool coat, along with his blazer. He was so out of it that he didn't even resist. She grabbed his hand gently tugging him towards her couch. He had been running on pure adrenaline, she knew, and it looked like it was catching up on him. She wondered how Root was doing, while she didn't particularly care about the woman after what she did to Finch she knew the woman did care about Shaw immensely and was coming through for the team. Maybe she could let bygones be bygones; however she wouldn't trust her as far as she could throw her.
John didn't say much of anything as he sat down, more like fell down, and she sat beside him. She cuddled close to him, slowly undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, eyeing the crimson stain with fading worry. It wasn't as bad as she was figuring when she saw it peeking out from under his coat and suit blazer. But still he was bleeding and she wanted to make sure it remained not serious. There was no joke or humorous retort about her undressing him which did worry her. John tried to diffuse any situation where he was being taken care of, reprimanded, or generally cared for with lame attempts at humor. The man just didn't know how to take support.
She peeled the dress shirt back, tugging ruthlessly on it until it gave way from his pants, and threw it on the floor. Next was the undershirt. Joss wordlessly tugged on it and murmured at him to raise his arms which he eventually did after a good minute of just sitting in a daze. It seemed like John was operating underwater, taking an additional few moments to actually do what was requested of him.
She tsked as she eyed the bandage. "John, you popped a stitch," she whispered after she had peeled back the bandage, eyeing the damage. She sighed with relief that it was the bottom stitch and only a little blood was trickling out.
He didn't respond. Joss lifted her gaze off his wound, well away from his toned torso, and eyed him softly, realizing he wasn't even here with her. He was staring forward, unblinking and undoubtedly not seeing a single thing in her living room. John didn't handle loss well and she wanted to hug him, but suspected her touch wouldn't be appreciated at the moment. If she knew anything about John it was that he was going to beat himself up for what happened to Shaw, so naturally by extension that meant any kind and supportive human touch was too good for him. First things first, she had to re-stitch his wound. Then she'd focus on making sure he blamed the right people for what happened, Decima, and not himself. John was a good man but he was only a man, he wasn't some superhero that could have swooped in and saved Shaw.
She tenderly ran a hand through the hair at his nape soothingly before she got to her feet. "I'll be right back," she murmured as if he would answer, knowing he wouldn't. He was so lost in whatever he was thinking about that she felt like she was intruding on him and he was in her living room. But one thing mattered; he came to her for help, he didn't go home and drink. John took the tiniest step forward in seeking help with his grief that didn't accompany the bottom of a bottle. He lost himself in alcohol after the loss of Jessica, of her own almost death, but this time losing Shaw he turned to her instead. Joss didn't say another word, rather hurried to her floor level bathroom, rummaging through the medicine cabinet for some additional medical tape, before opening up the vanity cabinet to grab the first aid kit. Thankfully she restocked her supplies last week.
She came back into the living room and found him exactly as he was before. Staring out into space, naked from the torso up, and looking like hell. His ears and nose were still red from the cold. She wanted to know just how long he had been wandering out in the dead of winter with these frigid temps. But she resisted lecturing him, barely.
She sat back down beside him, waited a beat but when he didn't even acknowledge her, her concern grew. "Where did your search take you?" she asked gently, trying to tug him out of the wasteland his mind had crawled off to. Nothing, not a single acknowledgment of her, and she frowned. Joss proceeded to dab a small amount of peroxide onto a cotton ball and blotted his wound where the stitch popped. John jerked the moment she touched the peroxide to the wound trying to cleanse it a bit. She knew it would sting but now she had his attention. "Now that you're back with me in my apartment, where did your search take you?" she asked again, gently, without offense to his lack of attention to her.
"Maple," he mumbled. "We had a lead, but…" he trailed off.
"But you didn't find her," she finished for him, detecting he couldn't or wouldn't. He nodded absently. "John, I don't have a local numbing agent, so this is going to hurt a bit," she whispered as she grabbed needle and thread after throwing the bloody cotton ball down on the table.
"I don't care," John said quietly. Her eyes lifted to his immediately, not liking that tone. It sounded hollow and empty. She shoved the needle with the thread under his skin with a little more force than necessary determined to jolt him out of the bad place he was sinking off into. He winced as he looked down, his eyes met hers.
"I do care, I care about you, and I don't like hurting you even if I'm re-sewing your popped stitch again," she said firmly. His eyes bore into hers and she just stared at him unblinkingly. He was the first to break the eye contact, so she resumed looking at patching him up. "So there wasn't anything at Maple, it was a dead end?"
John was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "Shaw wasn't there, but some poor woman that got caught in the crosshairs because of Decima and Samaritan's plot to kill us was found there. Root and I got her out. But Shaw, she can be anywhere in the world, or dead." Joss saw the film of tears fill his eyes. She knew John valued his friends, they were his family as he had no personal ties anywhere else. She knew that Shaw and John viewed one another as siblings who loved one upping the other, but they cared about one another. She had seen it firsthand coming from both the trained operatives.
She kept silent while she finished patching him up. Once she was satisfied, she put a new and fresh bandage on him. She gathered everything up and would clean up tomorrow. She got to her feet and went back to the bathroom to wash her hands. When she came back she found John, who had taken a moment to tug his undershirt back on, still sitting on the couch. She sat down beside him and rubbed his arm affectionately and soothingly.
"John, we'll find her, don't give up hope," she whispered.
He turned his head to look at her. "It should have been me that hit the override button." A lone tear escaped from his sheer will of keeping them at bay. Joss reached up, dashing it away.
Her heart ached at the mere thought of it being him. She cared about Shaw and while it hurt that she was missing, Joss wouldn't know what to do if this man wasn't in her life. "You were injured."
"Yea, I was injured, I was the logical choice. Shaw should be with Finch and Root, while I should be…"
"No," she cut him off immediately. "Why does your life mean less than everyone else's?"
"I'm no great loss."
"You are to me." She stated fiercely. John mattered to the team, to their friends, to the world, but especially to her, he just didn't think he did.
He looked at her. "Carter, Shaw, she's…"
"Family, your friend, your partner, I know, John. I know you miss her," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck. His circled around her back tugging her to him, she stroked a hand through his hair.
Joss gently held him. He softly cried and she wanted to soothe his pain so badly. She just murmured wordlessly in his ear, feeling her heart swell. God, she loved him so. "Don't bottle it up, John, let it out. It's okay to miss her." she whispered as she kissed his ear. He clutched her tighter to him in answer, with his face in her neck, her arms wrapped around his neck as she stroked her fingers through his hair. She felt his tight arms wrapped around her middle, as if trying to pull her through him.
After several minutes she felt him go slack, his tight embrace loosened a bit, and she didn't hear his soft strangled noises. Joss leaned back a bit to look in his eyes. His blue eyes were watery, his incredibly long eyelashes were spiky from his tears, and she reached her right hand to rub the wetness away. They sat quietly like that for several moments before their lips were touching. Joss didn't know who acted first, was it John or her, or a combination of both but whoever it was they were a genius. She sighed into the kiss as he deepened it before he tugged her forcefully onto his lap, and she straddled him. He had brushed his lips against hers in the morgue but this-now this was so much better. She kissed him back as his hands roamed her back before lifting to settle in her hair. She tightly clutched his soft cotton undershirt in her fists as she opened her mouth wide in invitation the very second she felt his tongue swipe across her lips.
She felt like her body was roasting, an embarrassing amount of wetness seeped out of her as she rotated her hips, pressing herself against him intimately. They both moaned before he tore his mouth free from hers.
"Joss, I need you," he whispered.
She ran the backs of her hands against his wet cheeks. "I'm here, John."
He pulled her head down so he could kiss her hungrily, desperately, as if she could drown out the pain that was threatening to eat him alive. She kissed him back with an equal amount of fervor, sliding her tongue across the seam of his lips gently coaxing him to let her in. She had wiggled past his defenses that he had raised so high she hadn't been entirely sure she'd ever reach the top. She moaned softly as she rubbed up against his stiffening manhood. His hands were on her ass drawing her on him more firmly, liking their intimate touching. He broke the kiss to eye her as he carefully held onto her as he stood up. She wrapped her arms around his neck, while her legs curled around his strong hips.
"Tell me to stop now before I carry you up to your bedroom," he pleaded.
"I don't want you to stop, John," she said before nibbling at the corner of his mouth and peppering kisses against his cheek, forehead, and then softly on his lips. He didn't say another word before he started ascending the staircase.
AN: Yep, that ending would have been aggravating in Careese Themes, am I right? So I originally wrote the smut for a companion piece until I kept adding to it and now it has become it's own tiny thing. The story is centered only on Careese, any other character will make a minimal appearance, if at all. I guess I loved all the movement in John's psyche this season however I think had it been Carter there with him, for him it would have been 10 times better.
Chapter2 will be coming soon-ish with a rating increase XD
Thanks for reading XOXOXOXOXOX