He's Jonathan Emagen, a teenage hooker, Johnny Dex, son of a soldier from a long lost war, John Weir, who says his mother's a diplomat and his father stole him away. He cuts the throat of a pimp in Nashville and turns up in an ER in Minnesota as an OD that vanishes before morning. He's good with a gun, good with a knife, good with a computer, sells his mouth in back alleys for drugs with Rodney's credit card in his back pocket, never used.
Deaddeaddead, so very dead.

That first one just hurt, a lot. But the second one made me all happy and warm inside, so it evens out.

In conclusion: oh, John!