Before long, Angela had fetched a first aid kit and began to wrap bandages around Ombre's hands and feet. Every so often a wince or a whimper escaped her drawing a slightly concerned glare from Constantine and a little jump from Chaz. By the time the bandages were secured, John Constantine was puffing away at another cigarette. Angela turned disapprovingly. "I thought you quit."
His reply was a curt shrug as he walks over and kneels in front of Ombre. She slowly raised her eyes to his face and noticed a long scar extending from his cheekbone to his sharp jaw line. Cautiously, Ombre reached out and traced that line down his face. "Did…I…?" When he did not retract his stare, the girl flushed and quickly drew her hand away. "Mr. Constantine, what did I say exactly?"
He took another long drag of his cigarette. "The end is near. With a plague, he will wipe clean the earth. Game over."
Ombre looked up once more. "I was channeling?" Looking down at her hands she lets out a shaky breath. "Does this usually happen?"
Constantine looks at her upheld palms. "No." At this, Ombre's breathing quickens as an ice cold grip chills her heart. Abnormalities of this scale in this context were never a good thing. Angela notes the panic in the room and immediately jumps to action.
"Chaz, would you give me a lift to my apartment?" The mop of curly hair snapped his attention from the patterned tiles to the detective.
"You're leaving already?" Constantine looks to her bringing the glowing Lucky Strike to his lips again. Angela placed her bag over her shoulder. "You don't think I'd let you dress a girl in one of your $100 shirts do you?" she smirked. "I'll be right back. Comon Chaz." With a click of the door, the apartment became empty again. Ombre shifted slightly on the bed causing a rustling of sheets. John Constantine turns and for the first time since the incident sees how truly disheveled she was. Her braid had long come loose and her hair hung in lank strands around her face. Red rimmed eyes showed a combination of lack of sleep and sobbing. Her wrapped palms and feet added to the pitiful picture and her torn dress made her look even frailer than before. John sighed knowing he didn't look much better.
For the first time in his life, Constantine had no clue. Usually, he could wave the crying women off. It wasn't his job to coddle them after driving the demons out of them. That was left to panicked parents. But now, all alone in his long green apartment, there was no parent. He awkwardly coughed into his fist and paced his way over to the bed. "Are you alright?" Constantine's right hand immediately reached back to rest on the back of his neck, a well known habit of unease.
Ombre nodded quickly and pressed her lips together. "What does it mean by plague?" She turns to look at Constantine who had regained is rough exterior.
"Your bet is as good as mine." he muttered. They both lapse into an easy silence, both too tired to talk of anything. The lack of sleep from the night before had finally taken its toll. As John made his way over to the couch, he noted that Ombre had already fallen asleep on the dark green coverlet of his bed. He sighs and resigns to slumber as well making sure he put out his cigarette before he stretched out on his saggy couch.
Angela slowly made her way up the twisting stairs of Constantine's apartment followed by a Chaz laden with bags of clothing. "Hey Chaz?" Angela turns around abruptly soliciting a grunt of surprise from Chaz. "Did John… Did he ever mention….."
Before she could muster up the strength to ask if John had mentioned her, Chaz smirked and gave a reassuring chuckle. "Don't worry, he was thinking about you. Made me wait outside Midnite's every night." Angela smiled and opened the scratched up door. Chaz followed her in and placed the paper bag on the table next to Constantine's toppled bottle of wine, making sure to avoid the burgundy trail dripping off the table.
"Both of them are asleep." whispered Angela as she bustled around carrying quilts and extra pillows. (Who knew John Constantine had a linen closet?) "I think last night ran both their batteries down." As she bent down to cover the usually hardened exorcist with the quilt, she couldn't help but notice the peacefulness of his expression. He looked so much gentler, and vulnerable under the guise of sleep. She smiled to herself as she stroked his a few stray hairs off his forehead. Innocence becomes him. she mused to herself.
