After getting multiple requests for more soul crushing angst by multiple people, I have finally obliged. While writing, I was listining to Two by Sleeping At Last, and although the story isn’t based on the song, the line “I will love you without any strings attached” gets me every time so I had to make it a theme.
No Strings Attached// John
⚠️WARNING⚠️ Mentions of being attacked, blood, and violence. The people have spoken and this is what they want.
For as long as she’d known John, everything came with strings attached. She wanted to join him and James on a trip to the docks? Only if she gave him half her lunch. She wanted him to bring her extra leftovers from Salome? Only if she helped him with his chores. That pretty much meant doing them all herself while he goofed off.
And when it wasn’t favors, it was contests.
“Hey if you beat me in a staring contest, I’ll give you this cool rock I found. I’ll probably get to keep it.”
“I just beat Andrew in arms wrestling and I think I can beat you.”
“What? No you couldn’t. I’d bet my lunch on it.”
“Hah! And I’d bet my dinner.”
No matter the circumstance, there was always strings attached. It’s how it had always been between the two. Deal after deal and bet after bet. It made their lives more interesting, more fun.
Even when Y/n began to follow Jesus along with her fishermen friends, their friendship never changed. It wasn't selfishness that kept these deals going. Y/n would've done anything for him, and she knew he would not hesitate to do the same. It was just a habit for the both of them. By now it was practically their love language.
And speaking of love, the contests really helped cover up her crush on him as well.
So never in a million years did Y/n ever imagine something would change that. Especially not something as simple as a walk.
"How about these? They look edible enough." Y/n picked a few berries off a branch, presenting them to Mary. Her friend shook her head, a small smile on her face. "Not unless you want to vomit for a week. Let's keep walking."
Y/n's shoulders slumped as she tossed the berries onto the ground. They'd been searching for too long now and she was starving. She could only imagine how much worse Jesus and the disciples felt after such a long day. She silently prayed they would happen upon something to eat.
Mary stopped in her tracks, pointing to a small tree in the clearing a head. "Look over there!"
Sure enough, the fruit of the tree looked ripe. If Mary was happy, they must've been edible. Y/n thanked Adoni for answering her prayer and hurried over to the tree.
After a quick inspection, the women began to fill their baskets. Y/n had to hold herself back from eating it all right there.
"It smells so sweet, I don't know how long I can wait."
Mary laughed, reaching for a taller branch. The larger fruits grew higher. "I know! I'm very excited to get back to camp."
"The boys will be happy we actually found..." Y/n paused halfway through her sentence. Mary froze as well, her hand lowering slowly.
They had heard a noise coming from the road.
Hesitantly, the two turned toward the sound. It was one both Y/n and Mary were familiar with, but they hoped they were wrong. But no matter how much they wished, there was no mistaking that noise. It was a horse clad in metal armor. A Roman horse.
Sure enough, a soldier came riding around the corner. Mary dropped her basket in fear.
Y/n's heart hurt for her friend. She only knew bits and pieces of her story, but enough to assume the trauma a Roman had caused her.
Without moving, Y/n whispered at her friend. "It's alright. Maybe he won't notice."
Not a second later, the man turned his head, staring straight at them. He had noticed.
Mary's breath hitched and Y/n stepped closer to her. She knew she had to do something before he came over. She needed to protect her friend. Slowly, Y/n faced the raven haired girl, placing her hands on her shoulders. "Mary, you need to get out of here. I will distract him."
The poor girl never tore her eyes off the man. She was horrified at the sight of him. Still, she managed to get a few words out. "But... but you'll be here-."
"No buts. I'll be fine." Y/n took a quick glance at the soldier. He had hopped off his horse. "Go back to camp and I'll catch up with you."
She nodded quickly and as soon at the Roman began to walk towards them, Mary took off in the direction of camp. Y/n watched as she disappeared into the trees, then began to walk quickly in the opposite way.
To her terror, the plan worked as the man ran after her. She sped up even more, hoping he would give up.
She lowered her head, beginning to sprint.
At this, Y/n ran as fast as she could. Her feet kicked up dirt as she dashed toward the denser part of the woods. The trees were so close. Just a little further...
A harsh shove caused her to tumble forward. The Roman man towered above her, but she would not let herself freeze. Y/n scrambled up, ready to somehow fight off this stronger, more skilled man. He was a soldier, for goodness sake! She was just some kid from Capernaum.
"Why do you keep running, woman?" The Roman sneered. "I don't like being ignored."
Y/n backed away, but he followed. He reached out, grabbing her wrist. "There's no use in making me angrier."
So Y/n shoved him back with a strength she didn't know she had. The Roman flailed his arms, stumbling backward with a shocked look. It was so out of character, that had Y/n not been in a life threatening situation, she would have found it amusing. Before she could make her escape, his shock turned to anger.
"Well now you've done it." He sneered, gripping her arms so that his fingernails dug into her skin. Y/n gave him the nastiest glare she could muster, stomping on the man's foot.
He let go of her , quickly reaching for his injury. Y/n took this chance to sprint, this time in the direction of camp.
As a child, she and her friends would often race, whether it be to win a bet against John, or just to spice up a walk. Unfortunately, she had never been the best runner and usually ended up next to Simon in these competitions. So Y/n couldn't bring herself to be surprised when the soldier eventually caught up to her once more. The act of defiance had only made him more infuriated.
He grabbed her arm, shoving her up against a tree. Y/n's head hit the trunk and stars danced in her vision. The Roman brought his face so close to hers, she could smell his vile breath. "You are dead, woman."
With a swift movement, his hand was around her neck, squeezing the air from her lungs. Y/n panicked, unable to breathe or even think. Her chest was burning from the lack of oxygen. She clawed at his arm, but he didn't let go. Her head was screaming with voices that weren't her own. Under different circumstances, she would have been confused, but now was not the time to question. The absence of air was making her crazy with fear.
Just before she thought she'd black out, the soldier was ripped off of her. She dropped to the floor, gasping like a fish out of water. She drank in the fresh air desperately, putting a hand to her chest in an attempt to slow her racing heart.
Looking up, she saw a few of the disciples and relief flooded her body. Her friends were here and she would be safe. Those voices in her head were not from insanity after all.
The ringing in her ears eased enough to hear James and John pouring out their passionate, "Sons of Thunder" rage toward the Roman. For a moment the man didn't know what to do.
But he was still a soldier. A ruthless killer.
So with a skilled swipe of his hand, he unsheathed his dagger, pressing it to John's chest. Y/n felt her heart drop.
"Step back!" He ordered the rest of the men. With a nervous glance, they stood down, moving away. The rage in Big James's eyes nearly made the Roman falter.
"If you touched her, I will burn you to the ground." John hissed at the man, ignoring the knife completely. He was not afraid.
But the Roman wasn't either. He sneered, barking out a harsh laugh. "You're hardly in any position to be threatening me."
He lifted his head toward the other disciples, gesturing at the dagger, still pressed against their friend's chest. "None of you are."
When none of them replied, the soldier smiled. "Good." He looked back to John. "Now you're coming with me."
Y/n stumbled to her feet in horror. She knew exactly what the man would do. He was going to imprison her friend for attacking a soldier, but not for long. Those who crossed Roman officials never survived for more than a month. Their supposed "life sentences" were always cut short.
So without thinking, she launched herself at the man, tackling him from the side. Not for a bet, not to win a contest. This was for John, no strings attached.
Y/n hit the ground hard, bringing the soldier down with her. His helmet rolled off completely as the two wrestled to pin the other. What Y/n didn't realize was the Roman had not let go of his weapon.
Before any of her friends could step in, the soldier pierced the knife through her side, just below the ribs. Y/n pushed herself off of him in shock, her hands flying to her stomach.
It took only seconds for blood to seep through her fingers.
For a moment, John could only stare. He didn't even breathe. Everything that was happening... it wasn't possible. But when his eyes locked with Y/n's, he felt reality sink in.
A pained whine caused him to tear his eyes away from the girl he loved. He spotted the Roman on the ground, the one responsible for this.
In that minute, all he could see was red.
If anyone ever asked him to recall that moment, he wouldn't have been able to. It was almost as if he'd blacked out. All he knew is that one moment, he was staring at the man on the ground, and the next, the disciples were dragging him off of the Roman. He didn't know how long the gap in his memory was, but it had been long enough to beat the soldier to a pulp.
With rage filling his veins, he tried to go back, but his brother stopped him with a hand to his chest. "Don't."
John's eye twitched as he watched the soldier writhe in pain. James spoke again, catching his full attention. "Y/n is hurt, brother. Think of her."
Just like that, the soldier left his mind as quickly as the anger. He turned to see Andrew leaning Y/n against the trunk of a tree. Her jaw was clenched in pain as he sat her down.
In an instant, he was kneeling in front of her, cradling her face in his hands. His eyes searched her for any other injuries he didn't know of. Of course, the stab wound was most prominent. The more he looked at it, the quicker his heart raced.
“No no no, Y/n you‘ll be okay.” She had never heard John’s voice sound so soft before. His words were gentle, but the panic shone clearly in his eyes. He was holding himself together, but it wouldn’t last long. “Just stay with me, please.”
"Hah, I saved your life." She let out a light laugh, half delirious. "Guess you really owe me one."
Under normal circumstances, John would have laughed too. He even would have joined in on their little habit of favors and bets. But now was not normal, not when his world was crashing down around him. He glanced behind him at the group of a shocked disciples, gesturing at one in particular. “Matthew, I need one of your handkerchiefs.”
Keeping his eyes away from the injury, Matthew fumbled for the cloth, quickly handing it to John and backing away just as fast.
Y/n hissed as the handkerchief was pressed over the wound. She knew the pressure would slow the bleeding, but it only made it hurt more.
“I know it hurts. You just have to trust me, okay?”
She did trust him, that much was true. She trusted him with her life, but the searing pain made her push his hand away. “Okay, you can stop n-.”
Another agonizing pang shot through her as he ignored her words. “Stop.”
“There’s nothing you can do!” Her shout caused a silence to fall over the group. They knew she was right. None of them were even close to being doctors. Y/n shook her head, bringing her voice back to normal. “We can wait until Jesus comes back. He can heal this.”
Her eyes met with John’s and her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Until then, can you hold me?”
Without hesitation, he gently pulled her to his chest. She gasped as the wound sent a jarring shock to her body, but it was worth it. Hearing his heartbeat soothed her.
John, on the other hand, was not comforted at all. His heart ached as he cradled his best friend in his arms. It should have been him. He should have gone with the Roman. Any prison sentence was more bearable than this.
Glancing back at the others, he grew angry realizing they were doing nothing. Now was not the time to stand around in shock. Y/n was right, they needed a miracle right now. "You heard her! Go get Jesus!"
Big James nodded, masking his worry for both his friend and his brother as he led the group back to camp.
The two were left alone in the clearing. All that was left to do was wait. John knew he couldn't do anything and it drove him insane. He gently brushed the stray hairs off of Y/n's face.
“I’m sorry, Y/n.” John choked back a sob through clenched teeth. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”
A ghost of a smile crossed her lips as her hand cupped his cheek. John leaned into the touch, placing his own hand on top of hers.
“Please… don’t apologize.” Y/n’s voice was airy and light. “It’s not your fault. Promise me you’ll never think that.”
He didn’t understand this. It was his fault. He hadn’t been there for her. He should have been there. And now it was too late to take it back. He knew this was the truth, but how could he say no to Y/n? John owed this to her, to keep at least one promise. He throat tightened as tears sprang to his eyes. He moved his head to the side, placing a soft kiss on her palm.
“I promise.” He whispered, his voice still muffled as he pressed his lips to her hand once more.
“Good.” A real smile crinkled at the edges of her eyes. The sight sent knives into John’s chest. He knew she was in agony, yet she smiled for him. Her selflessness baffled him.
With a shaky breath, allowing herself lower her hand. “I’m so tired. I need to-.”
“No.” The rough edge to his voice surprised her. He almost sounded angry, a complete change from moments earlier. She knew that anger was not directed toward her. For the first time since she’d known him, John was scared. Purely, inexplicably terrified. “You need to wait until Jesus gets here.”
“I don’t know if…” Against her will, here eyes fluttered shut. She wanted to keep them open, but it was so difficult. Her eyelids had grown heavy and she couldn’t bear it any longer.
“Don’t close your eyes, love.” Yet another change of tone. His breath came out shaky from the effort of holding back his tears. “Keep them open for me, yeah?”
She hummed in response, but couldn't bring herself to open her eyes. John shook her gently, which should have hurt but she felt nothing.
"I can't lose you, can't you see that?!" He buried his face into her shoulder, shutting his eyes tightly. "I'm not strong enough for that."
The sudden absence of pain allowed Y/n to move. She carefully wrapped her arms around him, gently patting down his messy curls. "John, you're a son of thunder! You can handle anyth-."
"Not this." His shoulders shook with silent cries.
A few moments of silence passed, aside from John's muffled sobs. All Y/n could do was run a comforting hand through his hair. After a second, she spoke up.
She breathed deeply, but she still felt nothing. "The pain is gone."
"The pain...?" He lifted his head, worry etched on his face. He glanced at the wound which hadn't stopped bleeding. In fact, the handkerchief had long been soaked through. "But that doesn't make any sense."
"And I feel..." She tried to think of the words to describe it. "I feel like I'm floating almost. Everything is hazy."
John's heart sunk to his stomach. She was getting worse by the second. He prayed that Jesus would come soon.
With tears staining his face, he pressed his forehead against hers. Neither of them said a thing. Y/n was slowly loosening her hold as she grew weaker by the second. John was determined to take in her presence as much as possible. He so desperately didn't want this to be his last moments with her, but that wish was foolish. Jesus was still nowhere in sight.
"Y/n, I have something I need to say."
He could feel her light breath on his face as she answered with a soft hum. The response was the only indication she was alive. Her body was completely limp in his embrace. He knew time was running out. It was now or never.
Before, he would have been nervous at the mere thought of confessing. Now, it could be his last chance. The thought terrified him to the core. She had saved his life, so she deserved to know.
All bets were off. It was the honest truth.
"I love you without any string attached.”
He sat up straight again, opening his eyes to see her face. Despite the tears blurring his vision, he could see the small upward tug of her lips. No words were said, but he didn't need any. He knew the smile meant she loved him too, no strings attached.
Right then, John heard his name being called from a distance. He looked back to find his brother running toward him at full speed. For a moment, John felt his hopes were lifted. But Big James came near, kneeling before he gave him the bad news. "We searched everywhere. We can't find Jesus.”
“What do you mean you can’t find him?” John felt a pang of dread hit him again.
“I mean exactly what I sa-.”
“Well you can’t mean that.” John cut off his older brother with a hiss. “We need Jesus now!”
James shook his head, trying to keep himself together. He wanted to scream and shout, but his little brother was in distress and needed him. He was the oldest and had to keep his emotions in check. For John, he had to.
“Let’s get her back to camp, brother.” Big James stood up, clenching his jaw to keep his voice steady. He had to look away, knowing that the sight of his dying best friend would break him for good. “Maybe He will be back by then.”
John nodded, slowly at first, but faster as his hopes were raised once more. It would be more likely that Jesus would be near the camp. He shifted Y/n carefully in his arms so she wouldn’t fall as he stood.
James put a hand in his brothers shoulder, giving him the most hopeful look he could muster. “She will make it.”
The two brothers prayed the words would be true.
Back at camp, the disciples were in disarray. No one could find Jesus anywhere. Mary had been gone for quite some time as well. After telling the disciples about the Roman, she had disappeared completely.
John rushed Y/n into the women’s tent, setting her down gently. Mother Mary gave him a reassuring look, promising to do everything she could. Despite her kind words, John still had to be dragged out by his brother.
So there the disciples sat in deafening silence. Simon had suggested doing something useful to pass the time, but no one had the strength in them to move. The weight of stress was crushing, an exhausting burden to carry.
John eyed the tent, unable to tear his gaze away. Every bone in his body told him to rush in and make sure Y/n was okay. But he knew there was nothing he could do.
In that exact moment, Mary came out of the tent. The group stood up, their hearts racing. Her face was sullen as she looked at each of the boys. She locked eyes with John for a moment, then glanced away. Slowly, she gave the disciples a small shake of her head, and casted her gaze back toward the ground.
For a moment, no one dared to move. No one even breathed. No words had been said, but they understood Mary as if she’d spoken clear and loud. A simple gesture set their world on edge. No one wanted to accept the horror of it all, the meaning of her gesture, the truth behind the tent’s curtain. Y/n was gone.
Then John broke the silence, letting out a humorless laugh. “You’re lying.”
They waited impatiently for the punch line of this horrible joke. Surely, it was all a prank. Any minute now Y/n would walk out, her smile glowing in the evening sun.
But that minute never came.
“You’re lying!” The younger disciple’s blood had run cold. For many, the weight of reality hit them like a rock, but for John the horrors slowly dawned on him one by one. It was not a single moment of realization, but many moments. He was frozen as the truth tortured him from inside until it was no longer fiction.
Mary could not look him in the eye again. “I’m sorry.”
With that, he rushed forward. Toward the tent, toward his beloved. He needed to see her.
But the strong arms of Simon and his brother held him back. He strained against their hold, heels digging into the dirt as he tried to push himself away from them. “I have to see her. Let me go!”
“Please I need to see her! I have to-.”
The words died in his throat as he fell to his knees. His body shook with sobs and his fingers dug into the ground. His heart burned like he had been stabbed himself. She was gone.
Then there was Big James, kneeling directly in front of him. Without a second thought, he pulled his younger brother into his arms. The sound of John’s cries were muffled in his shoulder.
There sat the Sons of Thunder, holding onto each other so tightly in their grief. The silent tears of the older brother were vastly different than the weeping of the younger, but they felt the same pain.
“I should have been there.” John gasped through his tears. “I should have been with her but I- I wasn’t… and now…”
He couldn’t bring himself to say it.
His grip tightened in his brothers shirt as he let out a strangled cry. “I was going to ask for her hand.”
Big James shut his eyes, more tears falling in the process. “I know, brother. I know.”
“I loved her so much, James. I still do.” He finally lifted his head from his brother’s shoulder. Grief was etched into his face. “No strings attached.”
At that moment, Simon walked up behind him, placing a hand on John's shoulder. Andrew came up with tearstained cheeks, doing the same. Slowly, each disciple followed, comforting each other as they mourned their friend.
As evening turned to dusk, a familiar face came into the camp from the woods. Jesus of Nazareth had returned from a long day of praying and preparing. When He saw the disciples in their circle, He took a breath, preparing Himself for what was about to happen.
John heard His footsteps before He had come near. With a broken voice, he spoke to his teacher. "Where were you?"
"Preparing?" John stood up, his voice growing louder. "We needed you here!"
"You were the One who could heal her!" The disciple continued, taking a step forward. It was foolish to be angry at the Messiah, but he couldn't help it. Jesus could have fixed this but He hadn't. "How could you let this happen!?"
James put a hand on his chest to stop him, but his younger brother continued. "The Messiah is supposed to bring good to Israel! Well, this isn't good! If you were here, you could have healed her. But no, you were away and she had no one to help. Now she's..."
The burning in his throat cut him off. For the first time that day, he really looked at his teacher's face. Just like him, there were tears in His eyes. Just like the rest of them, Jesus wept for the loss of a friend.
John bit his lip to stop it from trembling. What was he doing? This was the Christ, the Savior of the world! How could he be angry? How could he chastise the Son of God?
Jesus shook His head, placing His hands on His disciple's shoulders. "John, didn't I tell you there would still be heartbreak? That there would still be suffering?"
He lowered his face to the ground in shame. "You did, Rabbi."
"If I told you that there would still be trials, then why do you doubt My goodness? Why do you doubt that I cannot use evil for good?"
"I'm sorry, Rabbi." For the hundredth time that day, John cried. "I'm sorry for my lack of faith."
Without hesitation, Jesus pulled him into an embrace. John was in awe at His compassion for a sinner like him. He had just rebuked the Messiah, yet he was in His arms.
"I forgive you, but in your suffering, remember the goodness of God. For I turn sorrow into joy."
John sniffed, nodding his head. Jesus stepped back, holding John's face in His hands.
"Now that won't always mean raising a loved one from the dead..." A smile tugged at Jesus's lips. "...but perhaps this time it will."
Without another word, He promptly made His was toward the tent. John was frozen, unsure if he had heard his Rabbi correctly. Jesus turned back before entering, addressing Ramah and His mother. "May I?"
Mary nodded, a knowing smile on her face as Ramah watched, her mouth open in shock. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Neither could any of the disciples.
When Jesus disappeared into the tent, all was silent. No one knew what to expect. The Messiah's words had been plain as day, but they were miraculous. They waited, for what seemed like a lifetime, for their teacher to return.
When He finally did, Y/n was at his side, smiling as brightly as usual. She was standing in front of them, completely alive. No one dared to moved.
There she was, the love of John's life, the girl who had nearly died in his arms. She was right there. He blinked slowly, like he was in a dream.
It wasn't until Jesus gestured for him to come over that the miracle finally hit him. Y/n was alive. She was dead and now she lived. Jesus, the Lamb of God, had done this.
John ran forward, pulling Y/n into his arms and spinning her. The impact of the embrace left to two breathless, but their smiles were as bright as day. He touched his forehead to hers, holding her face in his hands as he soaked up the fact that the was still here.
After a moment, he let go, looking back at Jesus. He stood behind them, watching the scene with misty eyes. John immediately ran and hugged Him tightly. "Thank you, Rabbi."
"You don't doubt that I turn sorrow into joy now, do you?" Jesus laughed, patting His disciple on the back. He then nudged John back toward Y/n.
"Forgive Me if I'm wrong," said the Messiah who was never wrong, "but I believe you two have something to talk about."
John raised a brow in confusion, but Y/n grinned sheepishly. "He's right. I think there's something I owe you."
"You? Owe me?" John blinked incredulously. "You sacrificed you life to save me. What could you possibly owe me?"
"The truth." Y/n answered so quickly, she nearly interrupted him. "I heard what you said before. I couldn't speak then, so now I owe you the truth. I love you too."
He didn't know what to say in response. It was everything he'd ever dreamed of. So instead, he took a step closer. "May I kiss you?"
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as if she had been waiting for the question. "You may."
And so without a second thought, he pressed his lips to hers. He poured out the love he had felt for her for years, the pain and and anguish of losing her, and the overwhelming relief of getting her back into that kiss.
When the two parted, John's heart was exploding with joy. His arms were still wrapped tightly around her, like he was afraid to let go. He closed his eyes again, his face so close to hers that their noses touched.
“I will love you forever.”
“No strings attached?” The grin was evident in Y/n's voice. John's smile brightened to match hers before kissing her again.
