"Can you slow down for five seconds and tell us where we're going?" Fire asks as she, Bruce and Boston try to keep up with John as he lead them down a dark street somewhere in Brooklyn.

"Ritchie''s," John simply says.

"John... have you talked to him lately?" Fire asks, already knowing the answer.

"I know he's pissed. You don't have to remind me, love," John replies, looking over his shoulder at her.

Fire tries (and mostly fails) to ignore the heat in her stomach at his pet name. "I'm serious, John. There's something you need to―" Her words were halted when they turned the corner to Ritchie's house. His front door was surrounded by hooded, shadowy figures.

"Oh no. He's dying," John whispered.

"John Constantine," one of the figures rasped, "purveyor of the dark arts and lifeline of last resort. No matter. Your friend's soul will be collected. And there's nothing you can do to alter that."

"Why don't you go do something useful? Like haunt a house," John replied. Pride filled Fire at John's fearlessness in the face of death.

"Who's he talking to now?" Bruce asked.

"Shrouds," Boston explains, "they deliver souls to Hell."

Suddenly the shrouds surrounded Bruce, staring at him in a way that reminded Fire of a man dying of thirst. "Why am I not surprised that they're attracted to you?" she asked sarcastically.

"This one has cheated us many times. It is vexing," another shroud hoarsely said. It studied Bruce closer until the human whispered "boo", causing the shroud to jump away in surprise.

Fire rolled her eyes. He can even intimidate things he's can't see. Of course he can. "Okay, that's enough of that shit," she mumbled, closing her eyes and stretching her neck to the side until it popped. When she tightened her neck and opened her eyes, the bright silver had changed into a glowing gold. "As the daughter of Cimeries, I order you to stay away from Ritchie Simpson's soul until I deem otherwise. Failure to comply with my orders shall result in a punishment dealt worse than anything Lucifer himself could create. Am I understood?" The shrouds remained silent, only gawking at the hybrid. "I said: AM I UNDERSTOOD?" Fire repeated, her demonic voice causing several pebbles on the ground to vibrate.

The first shroud hissed at her. "Very well. But know this: if Ritchie Simpson's body naturally passes on, there is nothing even you can do to stop it."

"I understand. Now leave my presence," Fire told them, dismissing them as if they were nothing more than dirt under her boots. The shrouds faded away until the only signifier of their presence was the much-cooler air around the group. Fire closed her eyes, breathing in and out before opening them again, letting her demonic side fade to the backburner. "Well, that was easier than I thought it would be."

Almost instantly after the shroud's left, Ritchie's front door opened, revealing the man of the hour himself. "I thought I felt a disturbance in the Force," Ritchie drawled, leaning heavily on his cane. "How you doin', Johnnie boy? Fire? And... Batman? What the hell?" he asked, surprised that the latter was even in his presence.

"Tell you everything inside, mate" John said, walking up the stairs. Ritchie moved aside to let him and the others in. They followed Ritchie to his living room, allowing him to lean against his fire place.

Fire walked up to him, cupping his neck. "Lassen Sie Ihre Schmerzen los (Release your pain.)," she whispers, Ritchie's body glowing for a split second before he exhaled in relief. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing more I can do for you except make you comfortable," Fire told him, releasing her hold.

"I may have lied the last time we talked, about exactly how fast I'm sledding downhill. 'M sorry about that," Ritchie said before looking at John. John looked extremely uncomfortable. "But it means a lot you're here, John," he told the younger man, placing a hand on his shoulder. "And, hey, you don't have to say it. You-you're forgiven." He kept his hand on John's shoulder as he looked at Bruce. "Still wondering what Batman's doing in my living room. And when is he gonna shut up, right?" He chorkled at his own joke. His laughter stopped the moment he looked back at John, who was rubbing the back of his head again. "You're not here to say you're sorry, are you." It was a statement, not a question.

"Of course I am," John immediately countered, "...but I was looking to borrow the Keshanti Key as well."

"Un-believe-able," Ritchie said, enunciating each syllable with a good dose of anger.

"I tried to tell him before we got here, but he didn't listen. As usual," Fire said, shrugging her shoulders helplessly. "You know how much of a stubborn ass he can be once he sets his mind to something."

"It's not your fault, ignis," Ritchie told her, the old pet name slipping from his lips easily. Fire hadn't heard it since she and John parted ways, and it nearly tore her heart in two. But she had to be strong, for the innocents who could lose their lives if she couldn't help Bruce. "It's rock-star Johnnie's fault. We were standing side by side. I got the weird magical cancer while he only added to his rep."

"Look, me not making proper amends isn't related to the Key," John interrupted, "which, truth be told, you're not gon―"

He was cut off when Fire said "Halt die Hölle, kleiner Blazer (Shut the hell up, little blazer.)." His mouth clamped shut immediately. "I don't care what the House says, John, but you finish that sentence, and I'll castrate you and make you deepthroat your own balls. Ok?" John nodded, eyes annoyed (and slightly impressed... not that Fire noticed). "Good." The hybrid waved a hand, releasing her silencing spell. "Please, Ritchie. According to Batman, there's some type of darkness infecting people, making them hallucinate innocents as demons. If this continues, barriers will be broken. And the rest of my kind isn't as pleasant as I am."

Ritchie looked at John, then Bruce, before returning his gaze to Fire. He nodded, walking over to a little iron chest on one of his many bookshelves. He opened it and took out a small pendant. "Well, doctor says an upbeat attitude can help, so what I'll focus on today is that I met Batman," he joked, giving the Key to Fire. Ritchie wrapped his hand in the one that held the Key. "It was also nice to see you too, Fire. Now, if you'll excuse me..." He walked out of the room, the group following. "You can show yourselves out." And they did, John making sure the doors were shut securely behind him.

~*Shatter Me*~

They went back to the House, which took them to Metropolis Health Center. Boston acted as lookout as they snuck in through the back to one of the infected patient's rooms. They got to the man's room in no time, quickly entering before shutting the door from the outside world. Everyone looked at the man, whose eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling with his wrists cuffed like a psychiatric patient. "Well, well. Father of the year," John stated. Wasn't hard to hear the lack of sympathy in his voice. "I'll need the gear now," he said, looking at Fire.

"How does it work?" Bruce asked, watching as Fire took out the Key.

"It's basically a magical shortcut. It lets me access different planes of existence without doing 20-odd hours of incantations. In this case, I'll poke around this poor sod's memories to see how his madness began, and more importantly, what caused it," John explained, reaching a hand out to take it from the demoness.

But Fire pulled her hand back. "I don't think so." She explained before John could get a word in edgewise. "You are not going in there by yourself. The only way you're going in there is with me." Fire walked over to the man and placed the key in the center of his forehead, giving her direct access to his mind. The key seemed to fade into the man's skin, changing form until it looked like a hole that lead to the center of their universe.

Suddenly, a nurse walked in. Before any of the living could react to her threat, Boston possessed her. "I'll make sure the looky-loos stay outta your hair," he told them, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

Fire looked at Bruce. "Tap him three times near the key to let us know if something goes wrong," she instructed the Dark Knight. He nodded his understanding before leaning against the door. Fire looked across the comatose man at John. She smiled slightly, holding out her hand to him. "Shall we?"

John took a deep breath before accepting her hand, intertwining their fingers. "Let's jump down the rabbit's hole then, love," John said. He touched his hand to the key's opening, allowing it's light to infuse himself and Fire as they entered the man's consciousness. Floating into his mindscape showed the duo little globes of light representing his memories floating everywhere. "You okay, Fire?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. It's just been a while," Fire said, looking away from the memory that had caught her attention. John 'floated' over to her to see what she did. They both watched in grave silence as the man was beaten by his father as a child. "It's people like this that give humanity a bad name," she mumbled, unconsciously taking John's hand in her own. John didn't say anything, just gave her hand a comforting squeeze. "The darkness just makes me want to devolve to my basic demonic urges," Fire told him, watching another memory float by of the man wetting himself in front of his class, tears cascading down his face. "I've always admired your will against this type of thing."

"It's all about control," John simply said. He kept her hand in his as they went around, searching for the memory that triggered the man's madness. "Not like you don't have plenty of it yourself."

"Because I focus much of my energy on light magic," Fire says, searching another memory. "I have to balance myself, or I become the thing I fear the most."

"A monster?"

Fire shook her head. "Something that you'd have to put down."

John stops them for a moment, taking her other hand in his, turning her to face him. "I would gladly sell my soul to your father if it meant you would still be you," he told her. "You promised me once that you'd make sure I'd never lose myself. Well, I'm making that same promise to you."

Fire chuckled, shaking her head. "You are one of the sappiest people I have ever known, John Constantine."

John shrugged. "Better than being known as a right bastard."

"Oh, don't worry. You still are. Just a right sappy bastard."

John smiled, giving both of her hand a squeeze before letting one of them go. "Only for you, love." They continued in contented silence for a few minutes until John came across an anomaly in the man's mind. He led Fire into the memory. "This is it. This was the morning of his madness."

"I wonder what happened," Fire said softly.

"My guess is the sudoku set him off. He's got two nines in the same row," John joked, interlocking their fingers absentmindedly.

Suddenly, a darkness came over the memory. Something old was what drove this man to the brink. Fire held his hand tightly as the shadow permeated the room, forming into a demonic shroud-like creature. The pair watched in horror as it dug its shadow claws into the man's psych, twisting it like a grotesque pretzel. Fire felt a shift in the man's physical body. "John, we need to hurry."

"One more second, Fire. There's something we need to see," John shushed her gently, watching the shadow retract its claw from the man. A gold ring was on its pointer finger, intricately detailed. As the mindfield shattered, John lit up the darkness, reaching out to the memory-ring. He accidentally lost his grip on Fire as they were separated by the ruin of the man's mind. "Got it!" John shouted triumphantly, reaching out for Fire. It took him a moment to catch up to her momentum, but he managed to grab it tightly. He led them out of the man's mind as it dissolved into stardust, practically bursting back into the physical plane.

When they returned, they were confronted by what literally seemed to be a shit monster. "Kehrt zur Grube zurück, von wo ihr gekommen seid! (Return to the pit from whence you came!)" Fire shouted, the monster exploding outwards, covering every inch of the room except Fire and John. They exited the room, John coughing at the unbearable stench. Fire just ignored it. The sulfur pits filled with Nazis smelled much worse than this. Bruce and Boston waited in front of the door for them. "Oh! Shit's really hit the fan," Boston remarked.

"You had to got there, Boston," John complained, staring at the monster's remains in utter disgust. "Let's get the hell out of here." He left no room for argument, swiftly exiting the room with Boston hot on his heels. Fire looked at Bruce, shrugging before following John's lead. She snorted as she heard Bruce grumble for the fifth billionth time that night.