Hello! This is my first attempt at writing for the Constantine fandom, and I'm not sure if I caught their characters very well. I'd love to know what you guys think!

I own nothing of Constantine...if I did, it wouldn't have left off that way, or we would have at least gotten a movie finishing it off. Also for a disclaimer, this is entirely in the TV show world; I was never allowed to read the comics, so I really know nothing about the comic version of them; I did some research on wiki, but everything should be in the TV verse canon. It also takes place after the last episode of the series, so there is a slight spoiler about Zed if you haven't finished the series.

Zed's eyes flitted back and forth under her eyelids as she muttered incoherently. John walked past the couch where the girl was sleeping, gathering up a few things and stuffing them into his bag. As the blond walked past her a second time though, Zed's sleep suddenly wasn't all that peaceful. "John," she groaned, in obvious distress. "John, no…" The girl began thrashing around on the couch, coming close to falling off a couple times, so Constantine stood over her, reaching to shake her awake.

"'S alright love, it's only a dream," he said. As soon as his hand touched her shoulder, Zed shot up with a huge gasp like she did when she had a particularly potent vision, startling John enough that he let go of her and jumped back slightly in surprise. The girl's eyes were huge and wild as she looked around. With John no longer touching her, the vision ended, and after a moment of sitting there, trying to get her bearings again, Zed slowly moved her legs so that she was sitting on the couch instead of reclining.

John stared at the girl curiously, wondering what she could have seen. "Zed?" he prodded when she didn't immediately volunteer the information. "Zed, what did you see?"

Finally the young woman turned around and stared at John, her eyes still large and filled with...fear? Despair? John saw a wide variety of emotions in the girl's eyes. "You," she replied quietly. "I saw you. You were in pain, and you were all bloody, but I couldn't see what was causing it."

John knew that Zed's visions weren't to be taken lightly, and a part of him wondered if he should be taking backup with him on his trip, but he shook the thought off. Zed seemed to sense something was different, and when she caught sight of John's bag sitting on the table, she turned back to him.

"We got a case? John, I don't know if you should go; what about my vision?"

"Don't worry about me," John assured her. "And no, we don't have a case; I have a case."

Zed looked confused. "What do you mean? I'm coming with you," she insisted, standing up and turning to face the Englishman.

"No, you're not." The finality in John's voice irked Zed, and she folded her arms stubbornly.

"You're not going alone," she repeated. "Chas is visiting with his daughter; you're going to need backup."

"Thanks for the confidence, love," John drawled as he put a few last things in his bag. "Really does my self esteem some good to know that you don't think I can handle things by myself every now and then. Unfortunately, you really aren't coming with me."

"You can't handle everything on your own, John. What about the bounty? What if someone comes to try and collect? What if that's what I saw in my vision?"

"It's been weeks since Midnite tried to do me in, and since him, there've been no attempts on my life other than the regularly scheduled demon, monster, and ghost attacks. Maybe everyone heard what happened with Papa and decided that I'm just not someone to be trifled with," John replied with a cocky smile.

Zed gave the Englishman a deadpan stare, but Constantine merely shrugged. The girl opened her mouth to argue against him going alone again, but John held up his hand.

"Listen," he said. "I got a call from an old mate who said he needs help in Nebraska; I need you to stay here just in case something pops up local, though if anything does happen before I get back, I want you to call me or Chas. With the Rising Darkness becoming more and more powerful, things are happening more and more frequently, and I need eyes and ears here to let me know if I need to come back earlier than I'm planning on."

"You mean you're benching me." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Zed's eyes narrowed and her mouth slanted at John. "You don't want me out in the field because of the tumor. John, I'm more than capable of taking care of myself, and I think that I've proved that over and over aga-"

"Zed," John cut in loudly, once again interrupting the woman. "I'm not benching you; I didn't try to make you sit out when we went after that man in Louisiana, did I?" The woman's silence was confirmation enough, and Constantine continued. "This is just...I just need to do this alone, alright? Just...stay here, don't cause any trouble, and when Chas gets back, the two o' you can...I dunno, go grab a pint somewhere or something. If the world isn't ending."

"But John, my vision just barely-"

"I appreciate your concern, darlin', I really do," John replied. "But I can't simply hide away in the mill just because there's a possibility I might get hurt; if I did that every time there was a chance something could happen to me, nothin' would ever get done. I'll be just fine, love. Trust me."

"Yeah, trust John Constantine," Zed griped. "Because that always ends up the way you want it to."

That stung John slightly, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he responded with his usual cocky smile. "You knew what you were signing up for when you decided to stick with me, love. Just because I choose to keep some things to myself doesn't mean that I don't have my reasons." With that, the blond turned and grabbed his bag before walking up the spiral staircase. Before he exited, he called back down, "I'll be back in a few days."

"Wait, John-" The door slammed shut before Zed could finish what she was going to say, and suddenly she was left alone, feeling slightly guilty for the jab at her friend. She thought about running after him, but knew that that could possibly make things worse. The young woman sat back down on the couch with a huff, her hands dangling between her legs as she tried to figure out what to do for the next few days while both John and Chas were gone.

0-0-0

John stepped off the small plane, grateful to be able to stretch his legs after the compact seats inside had forced him into an extremely uncomfortable position; it had only been a two and a half hour flight, but it was a small craft. Now it was supposedly only a thirty minute drive from the airport to Frankie's home. John gave an exaggerated sigh as he went outside to hail a taxi, only to find Frankie standing outside waiting for him.

"Frankie Donovan," John greeted, walking forward and embracing his friend.

"Johnny-boy," Frankie replied with a large grin. "Been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah, it definitely has." John examined his friend's face. For someone who claims to be haunted by a ghost, Frankie's got quite the chipper air about him.

"Here, we're just over here," Frankie said, reaching down to grab John's bag as they moved for the car. John reached the handle first though and quickly pulled the bag out of the reach of his friend.

"I got this, mate," he assured his friend. Frankie shrugged and got into the driver's seat while John walked around and got in the passenger side. Once they were both inside, Frankie took off.

"So tell me about what's been going on," John requested. His friend had been rather cryptic when he first contacted John through Chas.

"Oh, um...well, it started about a month ago; things just started moving around the house without me or Martha touching them, but it really wasn't anything to be worried about...or so we thought. That was before whatever it is started leaving messages on the wall, written in red paint."

"What did the messages say?"

"I dunno, things like 'Get out now,' 'Leave this place,' 'Bad things are coming,'... just stuff like that."

John found it a little odd that Frankie seemed to be almost generalizing the events that were happening in his home. "Anything else?"

"Not really. When the messages showed up, that's when I got ahold of you, which was no easy feat, by the way," Frankie added, glancing over at his friend briefly. "You're holed away pretty well, aren't you?"

"I do my best to stay out of the limelight," John replied. "There had to have been something that happened to push you over the edge and contact me, though. What was it? Also, how did you manage to find me?"

"Well, I started asking around town, seeing if anybody'd had any dealings with a man who dealt with ghosts or demons, and finally I got lucky. Someone in a bar remembered working with you a while back, and they gave me your card. When I called the number on it, I got Chas, and he said he'd pass my message on to you. I didn't even know you still worked with Chas."

"Yup, he's a keeper," John replied.

After a few incidents where Constantine had resorted to stealing someone else's phone to get ahold of Chas or Zed, the two of them had forced their friend to get his own phone, which was currently in John's pocket, though he hadn't bothered turning it back on after the flight; it was also how Chas had let him know that Frankie was wanting him to come to Nebraska.

Frankie continued. "After a little bit, Chas got back in touch and told me when you'd be here, so here we are."

"Right, and what prompted you to try and find me?" John asked again, wondering why Frankie seemed to be purposefully avoiding that question.

"I dunno, Martha just started getting freaked out by it all, y'know? I figured I'd see if you could do anything about it, since you're into that sorta stuff."

It was a vague answer, and John knew that something wasn't right about the whole situation, but it was too late to turn back now.

"Well mate, you've either got an angry ghost on your hands, or there are kids playin' pranks on you," John replied.

"I hope it's the second one," Frankie muttered.

"We always do, mate," John replied, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder.

They rode the rest of the way in relative silence, until they turned into the neighborhood where Frankie and Martha supposedly lived. John hadn't talked to Frankie in years, since before Newcastle and Astra, and until he'd contacted Chas, John hadn't even known that Frankie had moved to America.

Soon the two of them pulled into the driveway of a small house. It was the only house John could see around, which didn't fit his memories of Frankie at all; the man loved being around people, so the fact that the house seemed to be the only sign of life around was odd. John cast a sideways glance at his friend, wondering if his friend had really changed as much as it seemed; Frankie usually loved to dive into stories and explain every single detail, which was why his generalization and lack of detail in his haunting story made John a little wary.

"Doesn't it get a little lonely out here?" John asked casually, lighting a cigarette and rolling down the window to let the smoke out so it didn't stink up his friend's car.

Frankie responded without even looking at John. "A little, but Martha likes the peace and quiet."

"Boy, remind me never to get tied down," John quipped. Frankie chuckled but didn't say anything else, and to John, the laugh sounded strained.

The property had an unusually long driveway for the size of the actual house, and when Frankie finally reached the end of the road, John got out of the vehicle. It was pretty warm out, so John removed his trench coat and gripped it in the same hand he had his bag in. Frankie turned off the ignition and got out of the car as well, grabbing his keyring as he led the way up to the front door.

The keys clanked and jangled as Frankie searched for the right one; when he finally found the piece of metal that fit, the door was unlocked and pushed open. Frankie stood to the side and held out his hand, allowing John to go in first. Before John entered, he threw his cigarette on the floor and snuffed it out.

When Constantine walked in, he took a deep breath and looked around. The first thing he noticed was the smell. It was musty and dank; it definitely didn't smell like someone was currently living there. The second thing he noticed was the wall. All of them, actually. As soon as he saw them, the feeling that something was wrong solidified, and he turned to his friend.

"Alright, Frankie. What's goin' on?" he asked, setting his bag and coat down on the table nearby before he folded his arms and glared at his old friend.

"What do you mean?" Frankie replied, his voice slightly shaky. John noticed his friend wringing his hands, and when he looked at his friend more critically, John noticed how nervous the man had become, pulling at his collared shirt and wiping sweat off his forehead. John gestured to the blank walls.

"This is old wallpaper. You can tell by how faded it looks, coming from when the sun hit it; it probably came with the house, or was put on soon after the house was built. So unless you managed to find the exact same wallpaper and give it that old, faded look, you lied to me about the writing on the wall. If you lied about that, what else have you lied about? My guess would be you probably don't even live here, given how you struggled to find the right key to the front door, so I wanna know that the blazes is goin' on." John's voice was rising with every word, but he didn't care enough to tone it down. One of the things John hated the most was when people lied to him and used him, and he had the feeling that both of these were the case.

Frankie knew he'd been caught, and he sighed. "I'm sorry I lied, John, I am. It's just, he said that you wouldn't come if he asked you himself, and you probably wouldn't come anyway unless you thought someone was in danger."

"Who said that?" John asked. Frankie didn't respond, but the answer to John's question came soon enough when he heard a voice coming from the doorway behind him. It was a voice that John had thought he would never hear again in his life, a voice he'd never wanted to hear again; a voice that made his stomach drop.

"Hello, Killer."

Okay...thoughts? Like I said, not sure if I caught their personalities.

The story is finished, just going through and editing the chapters before posting them, so I should have a fairly steady updating time, though I don't know how active this fandom is anymore...

I've honestly debated whether or not to post this, but my friend convinced me to post it, so here it is XD Please let me know what you guys think!

Constructive criticism is welcome, flames are not.