Chapter Text
John Shen
John should have been at work by now, that was the most predicable part of his job. That his phone would ring on the mornings that he wasn't even scheduled for, and he would answer before it could even ring a second time on the bedside table.
If someone needed the coverage, someone had called out. It didn't mattered if the hospital needed a second pair of hands he was there. This morning was different, somehow his phone hadn't rang on the side table, and instead the bedroom had stayed silent in the early wake of the morning.
So instead of the hospital taking him away from you, he was lying beside you in the bed, with one of his arms tucked beneath his head while the other on was resting loosely around your lower waist.
This was a rare moment, maybe so much of a rare moment that you two had grown so in tune with his phone that neither of you had had alarms set in the mornings anymore. There you were laying in bed, curled up agasint his chest, half asleep, and listening to steadiness of his rhythmic breathing.
"This is really nice." You mumbled into his chest. John smiled at your mumbled little words, "It is." he confirmed, "I think you should take more days off John-John." You mumbled once again. "I think my patients might disagree with you, honey." John said with a chuckle.
"It's not like they have to know." You replied sleepily. Once again John chuckles quietly into your hair. "They would probably notice, honey." He said. You shifted closer, pressing your face closer into Johns chest.
"Just five more minutes…" You say quickly into his chest. "That's what you said twenty or so minutes ago." Your roll your eyes in his chest, "Five more?" You beg. "Okay." Johns fingers trace lazily agasint your lower back, and for once in a long time there isn't a single place that either of you are needed to be.
There's no rushing around the house, or through breakfast. Theres no scrubs, no thoughts of the hospital. Its just the warm blankets, and the very early quiet morning being spent together in bed.
Then you feel the shift, something deep in your stomach. At first you had just thought… well you hadn't understood what had woken you up since it wasn't Johns phone ringing, but then you're shifting in bed, and you feel your stomach drop.
Oh…
Fucking no…
You go still in the bed immediately. John besides you notices right away, "What?" He asks with concern in his voice, Of course in shock you don't answer, instead you slowly lift the blankets. Your heart sinks at the sight, there's the a deep dark red stain that's spreading across the sheets beneath you.
Your face goes hot with embarrassment. "Oh. My. God." John sits up slowly, and you're practically scrambling to get out of the bed. "I'm sorry." You mutter with a wobbling bottom lip. "Hey." John says softly, "I didn't know it was gonna start." You mumble, "It's okay." John says, "No it's not." You argue.
You're already reaching over for the sheets, and the blanket. "I've ruined your sheets, John!" John sighs, and reaches over to gently take your wrist in his hand. "Stop." You freeze in your spot. Johns voice isn't filled with anger, or disgust. Instead all you can hear is calmness, and a steadiness that makes you wanna cry.
"You didn't ruin anything, honey."
"But…" You sob. "It's just a sheet." He says with so much understanding. You on the other hand look absolutely mortified. Ready to climb into the deepest and darkest hole imaginable. "I can't fucking believe I let this happen." Johns brows furrow together, "It happens, honey. It also wasn't your fault." He tires to tell you.
"Not here! It doesn't happen here!" You shout, and then immediately clap your mouth shut. "It happens, especially here." John corrects you. You blink at him, through watery eyes. "What?" You question.
John take your hand and gives it a reassuring, steady squeeze. "You are home." He states as if that fact is one of common knowledge. The words make the embarrassment of everything that's happened in the past five minutes hit that much harder now.
You feel your eyes start to burn, trying to hold back tears. "I'm so embarrassed." You say under your breath. "I know, honey." He says sympathetically. He doesn't do that thing that most guys do where they dismiss your feelings all together. He doesn't tell you that you shouldn't be embarrassed either, John just simple acknowledges them.
John lets your hand go after, "Go ahead and get changed, honey." He says softly, you hesitate from your spot beside the bed. "What are you going to do?" You ask unable to stop the words from coming out of your mouth.
"I'm going to change the sheets."
"No… John you can't… I'll…" You're cut out from your mumbling when John looks up at you, "I've got it, honey." His tone is gentle of course but there's a finality to it, and you know that voice oh so well. It's the voice that he uses when he's already decided that someone needs to be done, so you nod.
"Okay." You whisper under your breath.
You go disappearing into the bathroom, changing into a new pair of panties, an oversized t-shirt that you've stolen from John, and give yourself a quick look over trying to desperately get your emotions in a row.
It's all just ridiculous, and you know it.
You know it's just a period.
You know that you've had them countless times before, but somehow because you woke up with John beside you and the fact that you came to the realization that you had bled out onto the sheets. You feel so vulnerable like someone had cut you down the center and let everyone around you see your deepest, darkest parts.
When you finally return to the bedroom, John was still stripping the bed of the sheets. John had already gathered the sheets and put them into the laundry bin, he looks over and smiles softly at you. "Feeling better?" He asks.
You nod, "Just feelin' a little crampy." You admit, "Okay." He says as he finishes pulling off the pitted sheet, "Do you have everything you need here?" He asks, "I think so."
"Pain meds?"
"I'll take some."
"Good, honey." Then John disappears into the bathroom, returning with a glass of water. You stare at him, and then the glass of water in his hands. "You already had that ready?" You ask, "I did." He hands the glass to you, "Please, take somethin' before the cramps get worse, honey." You accept the glass. "Thank you." You mumble.
He nods and walks back towards the bedroom, "I'll make the bed." He tells you, "You don't have to John." He looks at you sideways, "I know that." You can't help but look down at your glass of half drank water. "I'm really sorry, John-John." You see out of the corner of your eye John go dead still, and then he's walking over to you.
Standing in front of you, "Don't you dare apologize." "But…' You whisper, "You didn't do a single thing wrong here, honey." he tells you. You look up, and catch Johns eyes, and just how serious his expression has gone. "You didn't choose for any of this to happen."
"i know." You whisper. "And you defiantly weren't careless about it all." "I know that too, John-John."
"Then there's nothing for you to be apologizing for." John says, finally like the words have relaxed your mind, you feel your shoulder fall, John gentle brushes away one of your stray hairs away from your face.
"You are allowed to have a body, honey." He tells you, you laugh weakly at his words, "That's defiantly a strange way to put it, John." "Maybe." He says shrugging his shoulders, but smiles at you anyways.
"But that doesn't make it less true." You look up at him, "So you're not grossed out?" You ask timidly, "No."
"Not even a little bit?" You question him, John shakes his head, and kisses your forehead, "It's just blood." You grimace at the thought, "You're making it sound so clinical, John." You whine. "I was trying to, honey."
He makes you laugh, and John smiles at the sound of it. "Better?" He asks again, "A little." You whisper.
Finally after John is done putting a new set of clean sheets on the bed you take your pain meds. When John is done he throws the blankets over the top, and waits for you to be done taking your meds. "There." He says simple, pulling the blankets back so you can climb back underneath them.
John follows a moment later, and you curl back into his side. He settles, wrapping a arm around your waist, and letting his hand fall over your lower abdomen. "Is that okay, honey?" He asks, you give a slight nod, "Yeah it's good, John-John." You mumble.
His palm stays there warm agasint your lower belly, he doesn't push hard. He's just there enough to make you feel grounded in the moment. "You know, John." You whisper out, "I kinda thought that you were gonna be super annoyed because of this." You admit to him.
"Why?" He asks, you can hear his brow furrow together. "Because I had made a mess of the bed." The words sound childish as they hit your ears. Beside you John is quiet for a moment, "I've seen worse, honey." He finally says.
You laugh because what the hell kinda answer is that, "That's not very romantic, John-John." "Well good thing I wasn't aiming for romantic then." He teases, "No you weren't?" You ask, "Nope." John just kisses the back of your head, 'I'm just here trying to make sure that you're oaky, honey."
You feel your smile softens, and then the cramps in your lower belly twist, and you wince at the pain that strikes through you. John is quick to notice the shift in you. "Bad?" He asks, "Just a little." You admit with a huff. "Do you want me to go get the heating pad?" He asks, already in motion to get out of bed.
"Please." You beg him.
John is out of bed without a single compliant on his lips. Having found the heating pad under the bathroom sink, plugging it in and returning to his spot behind you in bed. He's careful with it, placing it gently over your lower stomach. You sigh in contentment. "Better?' He asks even though he's pretty sure he already knows the answer.
"Much." You sigh. This time John settles a little deeper into the bed behind you, and you reach for his hand this time. John intertwines your fingers together, "I'm still a little embarrassed." You admit to John, "I know." "But it's less now." He nods his head.
You give his hand a squeeze, "Thank you." You whisper in the morning air, "Anytime, honey. Now go back to sleep before someone does call me."
You rest your head on his shoulder, outside the bedroom, and apartment walls. The morning is still going. John knows that eventually someone will call him, that the hospital will need him. But for right John isn't thinking about work, but instead he's thinking about you.
About how you're hurting, and how best to make sure that you stay comfortable. Johns thinking about how reminding you that something as bleeding through that sheets isn't something that you need to hide from him.
You close your eyes, "John-John." He hums, "I'm really glad that you stayed home with me." He smiles, "Me too, honey." He says brushing his thumb gently agasint your knuckles. When you finally end up drifting back into REM sleep, John doesn't dare move a muscle.
A steady
Quiet
Unbothered boyfriend.
Just there making sure that you know that there isn't a single thing your body could ever so to make him love you less.