A/N: Something new I whipped up one day during a rain storm. Go figure. Thanks to SWWoman, you are still amazing at what you do!
Fractured
John Reese stumbled through the storm, not sure where he was going, but knowing he had to keep moving or he would be dead. With nowhere to take cover from the raging torrent, or the hail of bullets following him, the wind lashed against his body, and the rain pelted into his eyes, making his vision blur.
He was in the middle of nowhere working a number when everything went sideways and he had to run for his life. He had been set up. The number he had presumed to be the victim had turned out to be the perpetrator in this particular case and he didn't figure it out until the number, Ellen Lewis, lured him to her old family farm outside of the city in an area called Hollybush.
Hollybush was one of those rare rural areas around New York City/Manhattan that still held that quaint small town feeling he remembered from his family farm in Washington State. The one drawback to being a rural community was that your neighbors tended to be a "country mile" away. John raised his head from its' tucked position in his coat, trying to wipe the heavy rain from his face with his hand only for it to be replaced by more rain. He couldn't see anything, anywhere; no lights, no traffic…nothing.
Hunkering back into his clothing, John began splashing through the ankle-deep, muddy, water that had accumulated in just a few hours after his confrontation with Ellen Lewis, who from the sound of things behind him, was still looking for him. The field he was currently crawling through at least had high weeds for him to take some cover in.
The skies had opened up with a vengeance the moment John stepped out of the back door in order to escape the hit team Ms. Lewis had waiting for him when he arrived. John was an accomplished badass as Taylor, Joss's son, would call him, but even he had his limitations. Besides, he had promised Joss he would try to take fewer chances with his life in order for them to have a future together.
So John had opted to run. They had effectively blocked him from getting to his car, which would have had him speeding back to Manhattan by now, but instead he was slowly being washed away by the rainstorm that seemed was going to last all night. Not only was it exhausting trudging through the gale force winds that were doing their damnedest to knock him off his feet, it was difficult to hear his enemy with the wind whistling in his ears.
Thoughts of his last conversation with Joss entered his mind as he maneuvered through the rain and mud trying to outwit his pursuers. Joss was the only person who had ever been able to get him to open up about anything personal, especially anything concerning his past. Even then, he had told her precious little. It wasn't because he didn't trust her or that he thought she wouldn't be caring and understanding. John knew without a doubt that Joss would be tender and gentle with his fractured soul, yet he still couldn't bring himself to talk about the things he had seen, and done. Things that had nearly broken him before he was burned by the CIA. A shudder traveled through John's body that had nothing to do with the elements. Images of the men and women he had killed in the name of his country burned in his mind as he stumbled through the brush.
Joss wanted John to open up more, give more of him to their relationship by sharing his pain with her. She felt if he would let her shoulder some of the load he carried, it might ease his own burden. John flatly refused. She didn't realize what she was asking. He wasn't refusing for his sake, he was refusing for hers. He had no intention of putting that kind of weight on her. The images that came to him at night in his dreams would break her, and John would have no part in that.
Ironically, all of this was why he was on the run, in the driving rain, in the middle of nowhere. Ellen Lewis was the daughter of one of his old marks when he was in the CIA. Unknown to John and Kara Stanton, his former partner, a young Ellen had been watching from her hiding place where her father had hidden her when they first arrived. Theirs had not been a stealth mission so there was no reason for discretion, although they didn't announce their arrival either. Kara had always enjoyed toying with a mark before killing them, like a cat with a mouse. Kara had terrorized and tortured the man within an inch of his life, but to his credit, the man never begged for his life or gave them the information they wanted. John had finally had enough, and put the man out of his misery with a shot through the temple. Kara had been furious, John had just shrugged her off and walked away, leaving the dead man, unknowingly, for his little girl to find after he and Kara left, bickering the whole time.
It was always like this. His past seemed to always find him, and he was afraid one day that past would find Joss and Taylor. He would never forgive himself if something happened to them because of him. Because of the things he had done. Because of the things he had allowed to happen right in front of him as he watched, with disgust, but watched just the same.
John should have been paying closer attention, especially in these kinds of conditions. Suddenly, looming in front of him was a tall dark figure with a very real gun pointed at him. John froze, and then slowly lifted his hands in the air. John supposed this was retribution for all the lives he had taken. For taking the life of a little girl's father right in front of her, even though John was trying to be humane, and didn't know she was there. It didn't matter; he had still taken the life of someone relevant to someone else, and changed the course of Ellen Lewis's life forever.
John slowly closed his eyes and thought of Joss. Her beautiful face with her contagious smile, soft as satin skin, rose petal lips, and dark silky hair as he ran his fingers through it. He wanted that image to sooth his fractured soul as he met his end.
John heard the gun ratchet, and took a deep breath, a small smile curving his lips as he heard the discharge of a weapon over the rain and thunder…
A/N: Poor John. Always having to face his past in one way or another. At least he had the memory of Joss to sooth his soul as he "met his end"...or did he? Meet his end? Sorry guys you'll have to write your own ending, this is complete. See you soon...