From the Shadows

John's POV

John Constantine sat at the rooftops edge, watching the sun as it disappeared behind the Los Angeles skyline. He glanced at his watch flashing six-thirty. He was early for their meeting on the roof, but that didn't matter Angela would be here soon enough. John felt himself become nervous at the thought of seeing her; there was defiantly something between them, a sexual energy that both of them knew was there. It had been just been so long since he'd felt like this. He was scared, terrified of the past that haunted him. But he was given a second chance, God was on his side for the first time and John wasn't going to waste it. Not this time.

"Hello" Angela said and he jumped a little at her voice, surprised that he hadn't felt her coming.

"Hey"

"So it's been a long time." Angela said awkwardly, positioning herself next to him on the ledge.

"Yeah, two months."

"I needed time, after all of that …" she dropped her head. He knew that she was remembering her sister Isabel and the adventure that followed Angela's investigation of her sisters' death.

"I understand. Family is important to you. You needed the time to mourn." She nodded. And with out even skipping a beat she asked "Isn't family important to you?" Constantine just stared at her, unable to respond. Did he lie and tell her they were very important to him? Or tell the truth, become vulnerable. Angela looked at him, urging him to go on.

"It's…complicated." He said simply, turning away from her. Fighting that defenselessness. He had lost to many people, had let them get to close. And now…now they were all dead. Being around John Constantine was always a dangerous thing. But he wanted to trust her, to tell her. Angela put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he turned to face her. He sighed.

"We aren't wasting any time here."

"If you don't want to tell me…"

"No, that is ok. It is time that I tell someone." And time that I trust someone. But he didn't say it allowed. And in a moment he was back to being the thirteen year old John Constantine again, and he remembered:

The young John Constantine, sitting in the living room with his sister, Cheryl, watching TV. His father came home from the bar, drunk and looking for someone to fight with. They both looked at each other, a knowing glance shared between the siblings.

"Run" John shouted, heading towards the safety of the bathroom, the only locked door in the house. But Cheryl wasn't quick enough, not this time. He grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her to the kitchen, roughly sitting her in a chair. Cheryl shook with fear as their dad drunkenly fumbled around the cupboard. John was across the apartment in an instant, and in front of his sister, protectively blocking her from harm.

"Get out of the way boy," their father slurred. But John didn't budge. Something shiny flashed in the afternoon light, as a knife came down at him. In a moment he felt the cool metal on his skin as it cut into his arm.

"Run" John yelled to Cheryl, as he fell to the floor, right next to his father who had passed out.

Angela's POV

Angela listened in the shadows of the night, as John told his story. One that she was sure he'd never told anyone before, making her feel trusted. Something Angela knew he didn't do willingly, or easily. But now she understood why, the events in his life never gave him any reason to…

"So now you know." He said, a hint of bitterness in his voice

"Can I ask two questions?" not wanting to pry on a subject that obviously caused him so much pain. He nodded.

"Where was your mother, in all of this?"

"She took enough of her own hits from him. We took care of ourselves."

"And did you ever get out?"

"Yeah," he smiled "I was sent away. It has been twenty years Angela. Twenty years since I've seen them."

"Even your sister?"

"Yeah, even her. I just don't think I could look at her with out remembering him."

"Well, don't you think it is time?"

"They don't care about me Angela."

"How do you know unless you go see them?"