Updated 2/12/12
A/N: yo, this is my first Constantine fic. Just saw the movie and I love it. Can't shake this idea, so I thought I'd procrastinate and write it. I haven't read too much from this region of the fan fiction universe, so sorry if any content is similar to anything else in existance. I'm honestly not sure where this story could go past the first few chapters, so I'll post what I've got unless anyone has any requests. Please enjoy.
Ticket to Heaven
Chapter 1: Third Time's the Charm
He found another cigarette buried in the couch. When he'd started at the early age of fifteen, it was for the high. And the rebellion. It was against the law, so it was fun. Little did he realize the dangers and discomforts it would cause him in the future. Little did he know that in the fututre, he would actually want to live and redeem himself. And that was even before Angela. It quickly became one of the only things he knew he could rely on. The subtle high, the calming of his mind. A constant. He needed it then.
Technically, he still needed the nicotine now. But that would fade with time.
It was a fragile existence, he knew. He knew more than most men should, but that never stopped him. He constantly chose to challenge the balance of his life, because the balance, he knew, was not in his favor. It hadn't been for a long time.
Not since he lost his life the first time.
Life. The word meant many things, and yet it meant nothing to him. At least, it never had.
He would have never admitted it—to anyone—but he wanted to go to Heaven. This want was no ordinary desire, this was a goal, the only goal a near soulless man had to live for. The afterlife was the only thing he had to look forward to, eternity substantially more important than this immortal "life." He knew this world too well, and he hated it. Nothing had ever appealed to him, having been scarred as a child; neglected as well as tormented by the demons. He had no place, though seemed to have a purpose, this purpose supposedly self-explanatory. He worked at the mercy of others-to help others-but for selfish reasons, therefore never gaining the acceptance he craved. Oh how he craved nothing else.
Something else he hated to admit was that Gabriel-that slimy, two faces bastard-had always been right about him. Damned "angel" nearly unleashed the most evil being to ever be threatened upon the earth with the intention to change just one man. He couldn't figure out if that was devotion, or insanity.
Either way, it got him to believe. And even with the world-almost-exactly the way it had been before he had that one glimpse of peace, he finally felt like there was something more to live for now that it wasn't just for himself.
So there really was a plan.
He heard a knock on the door. There was really only one person it could be, unless there was someone that needed a job to be done that didn't know his number. Somewhat reluctantly, he got up from his chair. He only opened the door a few inches out before he confirmed that it was Angela. For a split second, he hesitated, but decided against questioning and just let her in.
He'd lost so many friends-and they were his friends, no matter how badly he may have treated them. They were the only people he trusted, and trust was as good as friendship to him when only a slim few in this world could accept him; could understand him.
And right now, he believed that Angela was starting to understand him.
He was not the most sentimental man on the planet, but he did like to tease her. And for some reason, she was fine with it. She was smart, smarter than most people he knew, but why she put up with him he could only hope meant that she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. He would never admit it, but he wanted her whenever she came; he wanted her to love him like he thought he did her. He'd never truly loved before, but if God really had a plan-if God had really promised him Heaven after all these years-then nothing was truly impossible.
"They're giving me hell downtown for the incident." She said, sitting across from him at the table.
That's what they were calling it, the "incident."
"They're going crazy trying to figure everything out."
"They won't find everything." Constantine replied, taking a drag. "They're going to run into a dead end."
"They've already hit it. They've started the investigation for Gabriel. How likely would it be for them to actually find him?"
"Well, now that he's grounded..." Constantine trailed off, thinking. "I don't know. He might get away with this, but then again, he could be lost right now."
There was some silence between them after that. He knew that she wanted to talk about things and was holding back for him, which he vaguely appreciated, never having been one to talk about one's feelings. He could sense her uncertainty about the future as well as her ultimate confidence in him. If anything catastrophic were to happen again, they would fight through it together.
At least, that was what she believed.
"There's nobody." Angela started to say, looking away momentarily, but quickly regaining her confidence in making the statement. "Now that I can see them again, now that I'm... myself again, there's nobody I can really talk to. It's almost like 'ignorance is bliss' except, I wouldn't trade this knowledge for the world."
Constantine simply nodded, knowing how badly she needed someone to talk to. He knew she still went to church and prayed to God often, but sometimes, human relations were just a bit more fulfilling. It was times like these when he almost wanted to tell her about the past, but he hadn't cared it for so long he didn't think it was all that necessary. Though it may be partially fulfilling having someone know; having someone help carry the load, it was in no way necessary. For now.
"I find myself talking to Isabel." Angela continued. "A lot of times it's in the middle of the night when I can't sleep. I keep apologizing for what I did to her. I wonder if I could ever forgive myself for it." she paused. "Could she hear me? When she was In hell?"
"Yes." he answered.
She nodded, her mind wandering back to the last glimpse of hell she'd had. He said not even a second had passed the instant in which she crossed over and came back. It had felt like hours, days since she'd been in his bathroom, held down underneath not even three feet of water.
"I have to go." she said suddenly. "I have a lot of work to do if I want this case to close any time soon, let alone get them off your back." She got up, thinking he wouldn't care to do the same when she let herself to the door, but he did.
"You'll need help." he said as she grabbed the door knob. She turned back.
"I will, will I?"
"Even if you don't," he leaned into her. "you know you want it."
They stood like that for a while.
"Well?" he asked.
"I'm thinking." she said, slyly. This earned her her a grin, one of his rare and fantastic grins. After another breathless moment, she finally said, "Sure."
…
She'd ended up making dinner, yet another excuse for him to stay longer. Frankly, he didn't want to leave only to return to a smoke stained, one room apartment. Not that solitude wasn't still appealing, but he found her presence in his life more than pleasant. His need for her was almost like his need to smoke, addicting yet tactful. Simply needed and needed simply.
It was equilibrium.
"Ever since you found my sister, " Angela said between bites. "the cat has been having nightmares."
"How can you tell?" he asked, amused by the comment. The cat rubbed against his leg from under the table, but his eyes remained on Angela.
"He meows at the top of his lungs." She rolled her eyes. "I have to wake him up half the night to get any sleep."
He laughed, it was a small, almost inaudible laugh, but it was one nonetheless. "Sorry."
A moment passed.
"You don't go to church, do you?" she asked.
"Nope. The church usually comes to me." which was true.
"Come with me."
"When?" Like that would change his answer.
She thought for a moment. "Tonight. Right now."
Constantine looked up at her. It had been a command, not a request. He was tempted, knowing how serious she was about church. He took this moment to think, finding this glimpse of a normal life strangely appealing. Eating dinner with the one woman he could ever imagine doing such mundane things with, then going to church afterwards. It was almost like a weird Twilight Zone episode, though that was an oxymoron. She made a balance that he could not afford to ignore. Or lose. Of course, he didn't want a normal life.
And neither did she.
He finally said, "I haven't gone in years."
"It's never too late."
His eyes remained on hers. He didn't know why this was such a big deal. If he declined, she would try and convince him otherwise. She probably wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer, so why fight it? Did it mean anything?
"Fine, I'll go."
She smiled. She'd won, that's why she was smiling.
…
The halls echoed at their every step. No one person turned from their prayers. The benches creaked at their weight.
It was surreal. Nothing had changed since he'd been here last. It was like a time capsule.
He wasn't sure that was a good thing.
He turned and watched Angela. Her face was placid, her eyes peacefully shut in concentration. He wondered how this world hadn't ruined her faith; how her childhood alone hadn't scarred her into doubting the existence of God. How had she known?
But he knew, faith had nothing to do with knowledge. Knowledge had nothing to do with faith.
He wondered if she'd ever confessed to betraying her sister; about pretending that she couldn't see the demons. He somewhat doubted it, her confession to him only a few weeks ago having seemed like the first she'd made to anyone, even a Priest.
It was a long while before she came back to earth. She'd meant to ask him if he'd prayed, but she somehow knew that that was too much to ask of him right now. But just as she got up with the intention of leaving with him, he stopped her, telling her to sit back down. As she did, she was partly astounded by what she saw.
There, just next to her, one of the most reserved yet outspoken men she'd ever met in her life put his hands together, bent his head down, and prayed to God. She could only imagine...he was opening up. He was actually changing for the better.
Had Gabriel been right?
He hadn't prayed long. Just when they were about to leave, a Priest stopped them.
"Constantine."
"Israel." He nodded, knowing the Priest. "This can't be a coincidence."
"Sadly, it isn't. Though, I wasn't expecting to see you here."
"What do you want?"
"Your help, as always."
"Where do I need to go?"
"I'll take you." he then looked at Angela, aware of who she was, unknowing if she was coming with them, although he hoped it was in the negative.
"She's coming." Constantine confirmed, a little on the edge from a nicotine lust. He fingered at the pack of gum in his jacket pocket.
"Follow me."
...
They were now walking leisurely every which way with no destination and for no real purpose. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spent time this way. He wasn't particularly enjoying the sights or the atmosphere even, but it wasn't bad.
He could sense her slight uneasiness. How she could still be affected by a simple exorcism was beyond him, having performed one on her. Maybe the experience was different when watching it happen to someone else. He'd never asked, and didn't intend to.
It was getting dark when they got back to her car. They were half way to her place when she stopped at a red light.
"Wait." she said.
"What?"
"I'm driving home. I forgot I had to drop you off." She leaned forward in her seat to check the street signs, mentally re-routing.
The thought crossed his mind and he wasn't going to stop himself this time.
He placed a hand over hers on the wheel, getting her attention. Without words, he leaned in and kissed her, their first. It'd been weeks and they'd both been holding back. It had almost been a game, but no more. He couldn't take it anymore, and he knew,
neither could she.
She'd kissed back, well aware that the streetlight had turned green and that there were people honking at them to move. She pulled away. "My place it is."
...
It was almost a battle for dominance, their lovemaking, though they knew they were equals. It wasn't so much from knowledge than it was the acknowledgment of their entwined energies. They were both passionate, forever increasing the other's need with every deliberate touch.
"You know I love you." Angela said in labored breaths.
"Yeah." Constantine replied, just as exhausted. "But you don't have to say it." It was true, they both felt it. Their minds were both above mere utterences of such pure words.
"I know. But I wanted to."
He rolled over then, on his side, still releshing in the aftermath of their first night together. He tossed the idea of speaking a specific thought around in his head, subtle knots twisting in his stomache, preventing him from making a quick decision. She sensed his questioning himself.
"What is it?" She asked.
He hesitated, then realized how foolish it was to do so, unable to truly hide anything from her any longer, not that he needed to. Forgetting his usual smart remarks in the slightly lulled state he was now in, he came right out and said what was on his mind, just as she just had.
"This is my third chance at life, Angela. Without you, I wouldn't be here. Or..." his eyes flicked up for a second. "Accepted. You're my ticket to Heaven, you know that? So I'm sorry, but I'll have to hold onto you for a while. Probably until I die. Not that you have a choice or anything."
She couldn't help but smile at this, knowing the real truth. He'd done the right thing in self sacrifice to earn his way to Heaven, she wasn't the key or his "ticket" even if it was her he did it for.
"That's probably the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say. I shouldn't get used to that, should I?"
Now he was smiling, completely uncaring about sharing with her his happiness. "No, I wouldn't count on it."
...
He woke to a screaming Duck-the cat, ironically. It was at the foot of the bed, wrestling in it's sleep. He looked over to Angela, sleeping peacefully beside him, apparently immune to such outbursts. He sighed, reaching over to the cat and taking it in his arms, waking it up almost instantly. He found himself smiling, an odd feeling. He hadn't had a reason to smile until Angela. He half wished he could live life without worrying about her; without the need to protect her from the dangers of this world that she had so willingly stepped into.
But he knew, neither would have it any other way.