Title: Living is a problem because everything dies…

Author: GunslingerExtraordinaire

Summary: Constantine reflects in the loss of Chas, and meets an old friend…

Word Count: 1402

Authors Notes: I found this on my computer after abandoning it ages ago. So finally, here is the finished product! Please enjoy it, and don't forget to review! ^_^

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He jumped as the bottle fell to the floor with a crack. He looked around blearily, trying to gain his bearings and he rubbed his tired eyes. Right; he'd drunk himself to sleep…again.

John Constantine, the great exorcist that cheated death twice, was a mess.

Unshaven, dishevelled, generally malnourished, he had lost care in taking care of himself weeks ago. His…friend…girlfriend….partner?….Angela Dodson had left for her parents after the 'incident' with Mammon, needing time and space from the city after the loss of her twin and overall trauma of the abilities and drawing strength from others. He, on the other hand, became a recluse, refusing to think about it and choosing to drink away his problems, in turn causing more in the process.

Constantine rose from his cramped position, stretching, and headed to the sink for water, grumbling curses under his breath. It would have safely been assumed that after his second resurrection and his brush with heaven that John Constantine would not be sinning with drink and other ungodly acts, yet it was the grief of losing a certain someone that forced him to drink….to forget.

He had been the closest thing Constantine had ever had to a best friend. He had been funny, kind, and loyal. And that had all been lost by the fact that he refused to stay in the god dammed car. He wanted to help, and strived to do his best for Constantine, and make him proud. He never did have a good relationship with his parents, much like John himself. Perhaps that was why they got on…a mutual shit upbringing. They never spoke about it much though, though from brief snippets, his mother had been a drug addict, and his father an abusive lowlife. But that had never stopped him being optimistic, happy, and loyal…He had so much to live for…

Chas Kramer had been a hero.

Constantine sighed as he downed his water, running his free hand through his tangled hair. Too much had been lost through the last battle. Such youth…He deeply regretted the way he had often treated his apprentice, being distant, indifferent and uncaring. He had used they kid, no, the young man, for free rides, not allowing the kid a chance to go with him, see what he saw and actually help him. 'Stay in the car', 'wait here', 'its for your own good'. His own words haunted him. Why the hell did he feel the need to always put Chas down, like he was worthless. On the contrary, he was anything but. He was helpful and knowledgeable, absorbing any tidbits of information thrown his way, and regurgitating it with ease in the most anxious of situations. God forbid that Constantine could or would ever actually need is help. Maybe that's why he kept the kid at such a distance. His own insecurities about himself raining down, causing him to in turn to shy away from his apprentice, and any emotions associated with him. Maybe he could have even loved the stupid optimistic kid…

If only he could have one chance to say everything that he never had the balls to say. Then he might feel slightly less crap than he already did.

Yet there was one way he could have one final last goodbye with his faithful apprentice…

Later that night…

He paused as his destination came into view. It all came down to this. Everything. It was what life was all about - death. Constantine gently opened the towering gates, wincing at the shrill creaks they emitted, and entered the eerily quiet cemetery. He walked silently walked through the tombstones, weaving his way to the one he knew impulsively, his feet guiding his wandering mind automatically.

Nervously, he bit down onto a fresh piece of gum, chewing through his fears as he approached the gravestone.

'Chas Kramer'

It seemed so blank, yet oddly fitting. After all, what words could describe his buoyant, cheerful, endearing young apprentice. It was simple, quite fitting of a kid whose life was stolen away too early. It appeared to represent the loss of someone who still had such a full life to live.

Constantine opened his mouth, but chocked. He paused, trying to find the words that did not come easily. Shaking his head slightly, he reached into hi pocket, and produced a golden engraved and well used lighter. Placing it upon the top of the gravestone, he smiled slightly.

'You did good kid…'

After one last glance, he turned, placed his hands into his pockets and began to slowly pace away from the forlorn spot.

So, this was what life came down to….Loss and loneliness. He could get used to it. Hell, he already was…

'You forgot one thing John…'

Constantine paused at the sound of that familiar voice, turning back. Could it be…?

Chas Kramer crouched, catlike, on his own gravestone, his powerful tawny wings stretched out behind him as he landed gracefully. He was decked out in white, the typical ensemble of a half-breed angel, his eyes bright and gold flecked. Eyes so full of wisdom that only death could bring, yet still shining with youth. A horrific reminder of a life lost too soon.

Constantine stared, breathless. He should have known that his Chas would become an angel. In this light he even looked positively… angelic. A small smiled crept across his tired features, the first genuine smile to grace his face since Chas had… died. Yet seeing Chas now, still full of life and with something to live for, it just didn't seem real.

'Chas…I-' he stuttered, trying to find the words while he still he had this precious chance.

'Shh…' Chas' lip curled slightly into a catlike grin, almost mocking John as he tried to find the words.

'No, Chas, I gotta say this…Chas, for everything that I've ever done to push you away…like when I told you to stay in the car and I'm sor-'

'Shh…'

Again, the feline smile and soothing sound, gentle against the breeze that sprung up around them, lifting the tails of Constantine's coat and caressing Chas' wings, and the curls of his hair.

'John…you don't need to say anything. I understand. I understand everything now. You not need to ask for anything, just…life your life. For me. Meet someone who will make you happy and when you're old enough, I'll come and get you. Until then, just wait on Earth, got it?' the pure smile of cockiness returned to his face as he told his old mentor what to do.

Constantine paused, studying the kid closely; he looked like he had ages a thousand years since he had last seen him, yet he was still so young. A fledgling in the grand scheme of things. Yet the wisdom of heaven shined through his eyes, with his new power and joy of life.

Constantine nodded once.

Smiling cockily, Chas reached back to his massive wings and plucked out a feather as the wind blew more wildly, leaves circling them around the gravestone. He held out the ochre feather gently, and smiled even wider as John grasped it out for his hand, gasping at the sudden tingling sensation that flowed through him. He studied the feather for a moment, before looking up at Chas, who stood at his full height on top of his own gravestone.

One last smile.

Then he was away, winging his way powerfully back…back to the kingdom of heaven…back home.

The wind died. The leaves fell. And John Constantine stood alone once more.

He looked at the beautiful feather once more, taking in its delicate wonder, then placed it carefully into his breast pocket, over his heart, feeling a sense of peace and joy like never before in his tragic life.

Turning to leave, he look one last glance at the resting place of his friend and smirked.

His lighter was gone.

The tall gates of the cemetery creaked one last time and the graves were left to sleep, and exorcist was gone.

Chas Kramer was just a skinny little kid.

But what a kid