Joss's bed dipped sharply from John's weight and she stirred in her sleep, her bleary eyes slowly opening and seeking out the alarm clock. She wasn't expecting him to return to her apartment that night when he left abruptly after a call from Finch.
She had to be at the precinct early and, despite her objections, he had insisted he go back to the loft so as not to disturb her. Joss was surprised he changed his mind but was happily content and relieved nonetheless.
She rolled over and threw her arm around his waist, snuggling tight against his chest.
He immediately winced at her touch and attempted to muffle a deep gasp.
She quickly leaned over and turned on the lamp, groaning at the sight of John's face. A nasty welt began at his temple and continued down his cheekbone. She spotted his hands, his knuckles red and raw.
Tenderly she lifted his undershirt to survey the rest of the damage. His entire torso was battered and bruised, the worst of it running up the right side of his rib cage.
"It's not so bad." His voice was ragged and weary.
Joss could only shake her head and sigh.
"I'll be right back."
She entered the adjoining bathroom and began to run him a hot bath. Returning to the bed, she helped John to his feet and eased him out of his t-shirt and underwear.
She lead him to the tub and knew he was hurting bad when he didn't reject her hand as he sunk into the steaming water.
Joss placed a rolled towel behind his neck and he reclined, closing his heavy eyes. She squeezed some gel on a clean wash cloth and ran it gently across his chest. He flinched at the sensation but nodded for her to continue.
Discarding the cloth, she soaped her hands up instead and gingerly caressed his shoulders and neck.
As she lovingly stroked the contours of his tender skin, tears began to well in her eyes. She wished that she could take away his pain, convince him once and for all that he deserved more from life.
He would never admit it, never form the words, but she knew this was his personal punishment. His self imposed path to redemption.
The tears now rolled freely down her cheeks. She cried for the pain of his past lives and for the inevitable pain of the future. She cried for the man who refused to see the good in the mirror no matter how many times she pointed it out.
With every soft swipe of her hand she tried to wash it away. Make him new, clean, decontaminated. Innocent again. But deep down she knew that it was part of him, a piece of the man she loved, and it was what made him who he was today.
His wet hand reached up and he raised her chin, aligning their eyes.
"I'm sorry" he whispered. "I shouldn't have come here."
Joss shook her head vehemently.
"Promise me, John, that you'll always come here. Always."
When the water began to cool, Joss helped him out and carefully toweled him dry. She settled him in her bed, wrapping his ribs with an ice pack and covering him with a thick blanket. She lay on his good side and he tugged her close.
Cupping her cheek, he placed a warm kiss on each of her eyelids and rested his head on hers.
"I'll always come to you, Joss. I promise."