It was lightly raining when John arrived at the cemetery that morning. It had been a while since he had been there, and slowly strolled up to the stone he had come to visit, with flowers clutched in his hand. Wick had stood there in silence, looking at the headstone and thinking about what he wanted to say, as John had no idea where to even begin. He just stood there in the rain, looking down and uncertain of himself. He gently tossed the flowers onto the base of the stone, almost afraid to approach it as just being there made him a little uncomfortable.

"I know what you're thinking," John said, speaking to the tombstone before him. "What the hell is he doing here, and with flowers? All I can say in my defense is that time changes people, and I've gone through a lot of changes recently. I became a father. Yes, I'm not kidding. John Wick is a father to a teenage girl. If you were here, the mere thought of me trying to handle a teenager would have you in stitches."

John stood there and paused, before reaching into his coat and pulling out a small bottle of vodka. He gently opened it and took a sip.

"When I was younger, before I found my calling, I remember having a conversation with my father." John started, slowly putting the cap back on the bottle. "He told me that the day someone becomes a father is the day that everything changes. I remember him saying that the way that I look at everything, even how I watched sports on television would change overnight. Being the young idiot that I was, I thought the old man was just trying to scare me. There was simply no way a person could change that much from just one event. Turns out he was right. I've been a father less than two months, and the world has changed. There was the world as I knew it before I met or even knew about Yuna, and now I live in a world with a child that I helped create. I'm still learning on the job, but now that she's here everything has changed just like the old man said it would. And that's why I'm here today. Now that I see the world through this new perspective, it's forced me to do a little soul searching. I've felt obligated to look back at all my sins and question them not from the perspective of a man, but of a father. When I do that I feel ashamed about how things went down between us, and it's for that reason that I've come to apologize."

John opened the bottle a second time, but instead of taking a sip he poured a small drop in front of the gravestone, sharing as shot of the drink with the person he has come to visit.

"You and I never saw eye to eye on very much Viggo," John said, taking another swig of the vodka, "But today, I'm seeing things from your perspective. Your son Iosef may have been a spoiled little punk, but that's not how you saw him. You remember what he was like when he was younger, more innocent and full of life. You remembered the days when he was small enough to fit into one of your arms like a football. That spoiled punk was your child, your flesh and blood. I bet a part of you had hoped Iosef would eventually grow up, get married and have a kid of his own. Become the man that you had hoped he'd become, and I took all that potential away because I was bitter and angry. No, it wasn't the dog I was angry about. It was the fact that I had just lost the love of my life, and I wanted something... someone... anyone to take my pent up anger out on. Your son broke into the house and gave m the excuse I was looking for. I'm not trying to justify my actions; I now see how unacceptable that was. I look at the efforts you took to protect Iosef and I respect it. I've only been a Dad for a few days and I was ready to tear Japan apart to protect my child, which is why I understand why you went to such great length to protect yours. If someone tried to kill my child today, I would fight just as hard to protect Yuna. I killed so many people in Japan a few months ago, and you know what keeps racing through my mind? What happened to the mothers, the fathers, the wives or children of the people I killed over there? What happened to the mothers and fathers of the people I killed while trying to get back at Iosef? How many families did I tear apart because of my rage over the death of a dog... a fucking dog!"

John stood there, opening the bottle to take another shot. He poured another one out for Viggo and sighed deeply.

"I'm not proud of what I've done," John continued, "And now that I understand the position you were put into by your son, I really wish I had listened to you the first time you called me. I wish I had talked to you rather than turned to violence as quickly as I had. You were trying to protect your child, and I was unable to understand that until today. I'm sorry, Viggo."

John took one last swig of the vodka before pouring the rest of it onto the ground before Viggo Tarasov's tombstone. After putting the empty bottle back into his coat, John noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A man was standing twenty feet behind him, with an open umbrella. He turned around to face that man, not at all surprised to see him again.

"How much of that did you hear?" John called out to him.

"Enough," the man replied, "Those were some pretty profound words for a guy who was sharing them with a former enemy, Jonathan."

"I didn't want him to be my enemy, Winston." Wick replied as he started to walk closer to the owner of the Continental. "It was something that just happened and I now regret all of it."

"All of it?" Winston asked, with a perked eyebrow.

"Well not all of it," Wick admitted, "But I've taken a lot of lives ever since losing my wife. I know it's unfair to blame her for it because I'm the one who chose to get angry and to become violent. This is all on me, and I'll have to live with this new found guilt for the rest of my life."

"That's a rather interesting perspective," Winston observed, "Especially considering your current profession."

"Not anymore," John told him, "I'm out. My days of killing people, other people's children, is over for me."

"Retirement didn't work out that well for you last time," Winston reminded him, "What makes you think it will stick this time."

"Because I'm going to make a vow," John answered, "And I'm going to keep it."

"You know me Jonathan," Winston continued, "You word has always been good enough for me."

"I'm not taking about making a vow to you," John corrected him, "But to Yuna. I'm going to dedicate myself to fatherhood, be the man I wasn't able to be for her the first thirteen years of her life. During that time, as long as Yuna and I are left alone, no one will ever die by my hands ever again."

"You really mean that," Winston said, sensing how serious Wick was.

"I have to go," Wick told him, "I'd like to visit my wife before heading home to spend the rest of my day with Yuna."

"I hope that despite your latest revelation," Winston added, "That you'll still take a moment to drop by to say hello whenever you have the chance."

"I'll try," John replied, "But no promises."

"That will have to do for now," Winston said, shaking John's hand. "Take care, Jonathan. Give my best to Yuna."

"Thanks, Winston." John said as he turned away and started to walk towards his wife's grave which happened to be at the other side of the same cemetery. He didn't turn to see if Winston was still watching as he walked away but he didn't care. That part of his life was behind him as all that mattered to John Wick was the future that layed before him, hoping to raise his child in peace.