Title: Fire Escape
Rating: PG-13 for cursing and almost sex (but not between Chas and John. Sorry, kiddies). Also rated for Chas' thoughts because near the end he gets downright psychotic.
Summary: Chas spys. John getsbusy. Angela is just a pawn. Little to no clothing involved.
Author: Darko28
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, blah, blah, blah. Lyrics belong to The Killers, "Mr. Brightside".
Author's Note: I've been meaning to write this for some time, but I always put it off because I kept getting what I thought were better ideas. Actually, now that I see it finished, I think it's probably one of my better fics, at least in terms of emotion, I think I got almost the whole range here, well, except for happiness.
Also, the more I wrote on this story, the more I realized that Chas is psychotic. In a good way, though.
So, please read and review, kiddies. I would love to hear your comments.
Oh and one last thing. I kind of change Chas' point of view a lot. He sort of skips around from rational thought to thinking like he's actually talking to John. I did that just to give another feeling of Chas' fragile mental state at the moment.
Wow, what a sombre author's note...RUBBER DUCKY!
I'm coming out of my cage
And I've been just fine
Gotta, gotta be down because
I want it all
Oh no. Oh no. No. I shouldn't have come back. I told him I was going to be gone all night. I told him I had better shit to do. It's not like I expected him to sit in a chair and watch the door all night, waiting for me to come home. I mean, it would've been nice, but I didn't expect it.
I definitely didn't expect to look in his window and see Angela inside of his apartment with a glass of liquor in her hand and her hand on John's. She's got this lovey dovey, 'I understand you' kind of look in her eyes.
Oh, God, I think I'm going to be sick.
I don't think I've ever seen a woman in John's apartment. Not since I've been around, at least. I don't think he's even gotten laid since I've been around. That's got to be a sign, right? I mean, he didn't just suddenly turn all A-sexual when I started hanging around, did he? There's still got to be a chance.
I shouldn't have come up and started spying. Well, I'm not spying. Not in the strictest sense of the word. I'm just checking up on him. After a fight like the one we had before I stormed out, I had to see what he was doing. I didn't think he would be sobbing in a chair, moaning for me to come back…alright, so maybe I was hoping a little. I was hoping he'd be a little distraught since it took an hour and a half for me to work up the courage to climb up the fire escape.
Oh, fuck. She's sitting in my chair. And she's got her tongue where my tongue should be.
It started out with a kiss
How did it end up like this
It was only a kiss
It was only a kiss
Is this because of earlier, John? Is this because of what I did? I'm sorry, John, I wish I could take it back.
No, wait. I don't want to take it back. I don't wish I could change it. The only thing I wish I could change is the look on your face after I pulled my lips away from yours. I wish you hadn't looked like someone just punched you in the stomach.
I also wish I had stayed instead of telling you I had better shit to do.
That's not true. If I had better sit to do, I wouldn't be crouched down on your fire escape.
It was only a kiss, John, it didn't have to mean anything. No, that's wrong, too.
It did mean something. It meant everything. It meant fucking everything. Do you know how long I thought about touching you while I sat cab, waiting for you to show up, bloody and bruised? Do you know how many time I thought about it while I had to help you into the shower because you were too tired or too hurt or too drunk to do it yourself?
You don't know anything, John, that's the point.
At the end of the day, I guess it doesn't matter how long I thought about it. No amount of time could change the way you looked at me. Nothing can change the sickening feeling I felt in my stomach when she looked down at me, so confused.
Fine, John, go ahead. Be the selfish bastard everyone knows you are. I can walk away, I can start over.
Goddamn, John, why do you make me this way?
When I see you, all I want to do is touch you. I want to help your.
It was one kiss, John, one kiss.
Now I'm falling asleep
And she's calling a cab
Now he's having a smoke
And she's taking a drag
It's cold up here on the fire escape. It's starting to rain and in no time I'll be soaked. I should just go to Beeman's and seek refuge there for a while, but I can't move my feet. I want to turn away and forget what I saw – what I'm seeing – but I can't close my eyes. I'm forced to sit here and watch as John rips my dreams to shreds.
For fuck's sake, it's almost two o'clock in the morning. I should be asleep on the couch right now while John smokes his last cigarette of the night. That's what happens every night, that's how it should be. But no, Angela's sitting right where I should be.
That whore! That, that…that slut! That usurper of my John!
My John. Ha. I made myself laugh sometimes.
I just want to wake up. I want to wake up and see John in the kitchen, drowning himself in coffee.
Oh, thank God. She's getting up. She's patting his hand waling towards the door.
Thank you, sweet Jesus! There is a God in Heaven! She'll leave and I can get down from this God awful metal prison and I can walk in the door and pretend like nothing ever happened. We'll move on with our live. I'll go back to my fantasies and I can drive you around in your shit heap of a car. Okay, John?
No, wait, John don't stop her. Don't kiss her like that. Don't make her stay!
Okay, Angela, look. I'm sorry I called you a whore. And a slut. And a usurper. I'm sorry, I really am. I'm just under a lot of stress right now. I've never really met you, not since I got out of the hospital, but I'm sure under different circumstances I would find you delightful. But right now, all I want is for you to leave. Go now! Just hurry up and leave!
I'm pretty sure that unzipping, John's pants with your teeth is not leaving, Angela.
Oh, shit.
Now they're going to bed
And my stomach is sick
And it's all in my head
But she's touching his chest now
He takes off her dress now
Let me go
Okay, John, let's just stop and think about this rationally.
You trust me, John, don't you? You let me drive your car, sometimes you let me carry your bag. If that's not trust, John, I don't know what is.
Do you trust her, John? Do you really? Would you trust her with your life? Maybe you should think about that before you start throwing your clothes everywhere.
Well, there goes her shirt. Obviously, you are a fast thinker, John.
I can't watch this, I can't.
I have to watch this, I have to.
How could you do this me, John? How could you?
I think I'm going to cry. I'm going to cry or throw up. I'm not sure which yet.
There are clothes flying everywhere and Angela's tongue is once again down his throat. Her hands are all over his chest, her fingers tracing his scars.
It's not fair! It's not fair! I know I sound like a child, but it's true. It's not fair, John! Why can't I touch you like that? I can see your eyes, John. They're empty. There's no passion in your eyes, no carrying, not even lust. What are you trying to prove by fucking her? That you can? That you can do whatever you want because you're the Great John Fucking Constantine?
Are you trying to prove that you're in the control? Is that why you looked the way you did when I kissed you, John? Because you can't control what you feel when you're around me? I've seen your yes when you're around me, John? There's emotion in them. I'm not sure what kind, but at least there's something there.
Fuck you, John Constantine, fuck you! I don't need you! I don't need your bullshit! Being around you is like asking for a one-way ticket to hell!
What if I jumped right now, John! It's not that far of a drop, twenty maybe thirty feet. It wouldn't kill me. Just break for my legs, maybe a few ribs. A concussion, maybe, if I'm lucky. Would I catch your attention if I was in the hospital again? I saw you cry the last time, when I nearly died. I saw you holding your head in your hands while you thought I was still unconscious. That's what gave me the courage to do what I did.
You saved my life that nigh, John. You didn't just assume I was dead, you didn't just leave me there to choke on own blood. You laid your head down on my chest and listened to my heart beat. For fuck's sake, you carried me to the hospital. You told me I had better make because if I didn't, you were coming after me.
You don't do that for a person that you don't care for.
So why did you look the way you did after I pulled away?
Goddamn, John.
But it's just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager eyes
Because I'm Mr. Brightside
Is this what I get for trusting you, John?
Is this what I get for wanting to be around you, John?
This is more than just hero worship. This is more.
I guess I can finally see how you are, John. I can see you how everyone sees you. I can see you as the asshole that you are. Thank you, John, you've opened my eyes. You've shown me that I can't trust anyone. I can't trust anyone.
So, I'll give up. This is the way it has to be right? This is the way you want it? Fine, I give up, John. I'll wait for you to leave tomorrow and then I'll take my things and go. You won't ever have to look at me again.
Is that what you want, John? Because that's what you're getting!
I know I can't down because my eyes have gone all blurry and I'm scared I'll fall. So, I sit back and wait for it to be over. I hide my head in my arms and I try to imagine how much better it will be when I forget about you. I rock back and forth, trying to shake out every memory I have of you.
The first time you told me I was an idiot. Gone.
The first time you looked at me like you wanted to kill me. Gone.
See, this isn't so hard.
The first time you let me drive your car. Okay, that one's a little bit harder. Good thing I started with the easy ones. Alright, it's gone.
The first time you ruffled my head. Do I have to let that one go…fine, gone.
The first time I saw you.
Fuck. This is hard.
I don't want to do this. I don't want to forget you, I don't want to just quit. I can't just quit. I know you don't want it this either. So, I'll give it one more shot. Just one more shot and if you want me gone, I'll go.
My sight is back, so I start down the fire escape. My feet are flying and I'm on the ground, my fear of heights forgotten. There's a brick sitting next to the dumpster. Nah, too heavy, I'll never be able to throw it that far.
Instead, I pick up a rock half the size of my fist and roll it over in my hand a few times. I wind my arm and build up all the hate, all the sadness, all the passion I can feel coursing through my mind.
I don't recall letting go, but I can see it fly towards the air towards John's window. I watch, stunned, as the window shatters in a hundred, a thousand, a million broken pieces and cascades down to the ground like a glittering water fall. There's a mood killer if I ever saw one.
And then the spell is broken. It's as if someone has pressed the fast forward button and I'm still stuck on pause. John comes rushing over in only his boxers, sticking his head out the window, searching for the culprit. He spots me and his eyes bore into my head.
"Fuck you, John Constantine! Fuck you!" I shout, snapping out of my daze.
Angela rushes out of the building, her clothes hastily reapplied. She looks at me, concerned, and tries to touch my shoulder. I shrug her off and I'm yelling at the top of my lungs, but I don't know what I'm saying. It must be something horrible, I can tell by the look on her face.
Then John is there and he's pulling me away and I can't hold it in anymore. Tears are falling down my face and I can't stop them, I don't want them to stop. Pure emotion is falling from my eyes and time is slowing down again. John is guiding me towards the building. He's not pushing me or yelling like I thought he would. There's an arm around my waist and he's keeping me from falling all over myself.Irest my head on his shoulder and I'm crying all over him, but he doesn'tseem to care.He's talking softly and rationally but I can't hear a thing. Maybe it's hysterical deafness. That is a definite possibility.
I manage to say something, although I can't hear what I'm saying. I think it's something along the lines of "Sorry about your window."
I'm tired now, John. I think I just want to go to sleep for a while. After I sleep for a long time we can talk and I know you'll listen.