When Sara had thanked him for the shag, apparently oblivious to how strange that word sounded being used by an American, John Constantine, Hellblazer, a man who had quite literally slept with the Devil, came as close as he ever had in his adult life to blushing. Actually blushing, like an infatuated schoolboy. Despite his best intentions, he found himself caring for Sara, and so he'd seen himself off with a warning to Ray, one he prayed to whatever divine force governed the universe would never become relevant. As he left the Waverider behind, he felt something tugging at him like a lodestone, and he knew that if Sara were to call him, he would come running without a moment's hesitation. He would move heaven and earth to help her, he knew, and that scared him a bit, if he was being honest with himself.
Over the next several weeks, anytime his phone rang, Constantine's heart would jump, and he would find himself hoping, for the blurred, crazy instant before rational thought set in, that it would be Sara on the other end. It wasn't. Until it was. The first time, she needed his help dealing with demonic forces. As it turned out, when the Darhkes had allied themselves with Mallus, they'd gained command of a host of other, lesser demons, and Constantine's skills as an occultist were needed to stop them. And stop them he did, beating them back to the point of exhaustion- his and theirs. He returned to the millhouse with dragging feet, a week's worth of dark circles under his eyes, and pointed looks from Chas and Zed.
The second time Sara called, the situation proved to be more complicated. She didn't say what she wanted, just asked him to meet her in Star City. The urgency in her voice worried him, so he caught the next flight out, even though, as a rule, he hated flying. He would have rather driven there, but he could endure a few hours in a claustrophobic metal death trap for Sara's sake. He would do anything for her, he was beginning to realize, which was a chilling thought considering he barely knew her. Few things terrified Constantine anymore, but that did.
"Oliver told me that a friend of yours taught him how to counteract Darhk's magic," Sara said when they were face to face at last. Constantine could easily imagine them having that conversation, even given how little he knew Oliver Queen, which he supposed was a fairly accurate summation of how strange all of their lives were. "Seems like that would be a useful skill." Constantine snorted.
"What Queen didn't tell you is that it's more accurate to say that Fortuna tried to teach him," he said in his typical gruff manner. "I don't think I'd be able to convince her to try again with you. She only did it for Oliver because I called in a favor from her, and I don't have any more of those to use."
"Well…" Sara said, seeming to consider her options. "Could you teach me then?" She seemed unsure, which surprised Constantine. She projected such a strong aura of confidence that he wouldn't have thought her capable of being unsure in anything.
"I dunno," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "I suppose I could try, but the thing is...the Darhkes use a very specific kind of magic, and Fortuna was always better at using it than me…"
"But you can use it?" Sara prompted. "If you need to?"
"Well, yeah, o'course," Constantine mumbled in reply, "but the problem here isn't just me. Fortuna gave up on Oliver because he had too much darkness in him to ever have a chance at counteracting Darhk's magic. She thought he was doomed to fail. By your own admission, you carry more darkness within you than Oliver ever did."
" Yeah, but Oliver managed eventually, didn't he?" Sara said, flippant in a way Constantine knew she did not feel. "I mean, Darhk's dead. Or was dead, and unless I'm remembering things totally wrong, it was Oliver who killed him. When it counted, he beat Darhk and his magic, and if he can do it, I can do it." She squared her shoulders at that, and lifted her chin to look Constantine dead in the eyes, silently daring him to deny her. He found that he couldn't, which was becoming an unfortunate pattern with them.
"Alright," he conceded with a frown, "but I can't guarantee this'll work." He ended up being right about it not working, but not because of Sara. Because of him. As it happened, Sara was adept at conquering the darkness within her enough to push back against the magic Constantine threw at her. He just wasn't particularly good at summoning it in the first place. Eventually, he called an end to the entire endeavor, knowing there was nothing more he could teach her.
"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help," he said when they parted, bitterness creeping into his tone in spite of his efforts to stop it.
"Don't be," Sara replied. A pause, then she added, "Thank you for trying." She pulled him in for a hug goodbye, then released him just as quickly.
"Take care of yourself, Sara," he said, trying to hide how profoundly the gesture had affected him.
"You too John," Sara replied in a soft voice, full of an emotion that neither of them cared to name. "Don't go getting yourself into trouble with demons without me."
"Oh, you know I will, love," Constantine replied with a teasing smile. He walked away from her with the usual swagger in his gait, which had always been an affectation, but was even more so this time around. There was something him and Sara now, something that hadn't been there the last time they'd been together, or even the time before that. This was something...solid. Permanent. Real. As much as Constantine needed something real in his life- and he suspected Sara did too- he forced himself not to consider it too deeply. He knew from long experience how easy it was to lose it once he had it. The lives they led didn't exactly lend themselves easily to solid long-term relationships. Still, the possibility was there now, and he couldn't ignore it completely.
From then on, whenever Sara called him, no matter how difficult or dangerous- or both- the request, he came. He did so not with the knowledge that she would owe him later, as was usually the case, but simply because she needed him. As far as he was concerned, she was one of the only people who could never owe him anything. He would not ask anything of her that she didn't or wouldn't already freely give. He wanted her to know that he cared about her, and would be there for her, whenever she needed him, without condition or expectation of being payed back in kind. He knew her well enough by now to know that what she needed most was someone who would give her the space and opportunity to decide her feelings for herself, without outside influence or pressure from them.