Nightcrawler and Colossus were sitting on the sofa watching television when there was a commotion from the hallway. Lockheed came scampering through the living area as fast as his legs would take him, closely followed by Pete, who was wielding a fire extinguisher.
"Come back 'ere, you bloody scaly rat!" she shouted. Lockheed gave a squeal and took flight, disappearing out a window. Pete stopped and hunched over, panting. "Bloody 'ell."
"And this is the woman Kit chooses after my sister," said Colossus, plenty loud enough for Pete to hear. Nightcrawler gave him a dirty look.
"You got a problem, with me, tin man, then I suggest y'stop tellin' the blue boy about it an' take it up with me directly," Pete said, coughing as she attempted to light a cigarette. Colossus had the decency to turn slightly red.
"I meant no offense." Pete gave him a skeptical look as she exhaled.
"Yeah. Right." Kit came into the living room.
"Moira's asking everyone to meet her in the lab. Apparently there's a code-red situation," he said. Colossus and Nightcrawler jumped up and jogged out. Kit raised his eyebrow at Pete. "Honey, what have I told you about smoking in here?" Pete rolled her eyes.
"Aw, give me a break, luv. The window's open. Entirely too much fresh air. I'm just balancin' it out." Kit took the cigarette from Pete's hand and gave her a quick kiss.
"Come on, Moira's waiting." Pete followed him, digging another cigarette out of her pack but not lighting it. The last thing she wanted was both Moira and Kit on her case. It was worse than when she'd been at school.
In the lab, Moira was standing with Rhane, Meggan and Brian, looking very concerned. Pete sighed. "Who's tryin' to take over the world this time?"
"We've had several reports of…supernatural activity around London," said Brian. "Attacks on civilians, general mayhem."
"It looks like someone's opened some sort of door," said Moira. "An' we're the only ones equipped to combat the sort of creatures it's lettin' through."
"No offense," said Kit. "But what exactly is this 'supernatural activity'? Are we talking ghosts here, or full-blown Second Coming?" Pete thought back to some of the things she'd seen in her life. She had no desire to encounter more demons.
"Creatures," said Moira, "believed to be demonic in nature. All MI-5 will tell us is that bullets don't kill them, and that there's a bloody great lot a them."
"Bloody wonderful," muttered Pete. Nightcrawler clapped his hands together.
"You know vhat to do, everyvun. Let's move out."
"One more thing," said Moira. "MI-5 is having a special consultant on the occult meet ye in London. Not my idea, but be polite to him, or I'll skin the lot of ye."
"Just what we need…some skinny bloke in glasses tagging after us," said Pete.
"Put a cork in it, Wisdom," said Brian. "This is serious business."
"And you just define the word 'serious', Captain Britain."
"Och! Get movin', you two!" Moira ordered, shooing them out of her lab.
xxx xxx xxx
Out of all the dank, dingy, disgusting and disreputable places Pete Wisdom had visited in her life, the London sewers definitely topped them all. They were never pleasant, even under the best of circumstances.
When they were infested with demons, they were positively unbearable.
"So where's this 'consultant' of yours, Kurt?" Pete demanded. Kit shushed her.
"We don't know how many of those things are down here, waiting to pounce on us."
"Well as a rule mate, demons don't pounce. They tend to leap on ya and tear all of the flesh off yer bones." All the members of Excalibur started, turning as a group to face the shadows the voice had spoken out of.
"Who's there?" demanded Brian. Pete felt Kit tense beside her and readied a volley of hot knives, just in case it was a particularly well-spoken denizen of Hell waiting in the dark.
"You lot are Excalibur?" said the voice. The owner stepped forward a bit, and Pete was disappointed to see it was a rather normal-looking man in a ratty trenchcoat. His face was shadowed, but he was definitely human.
"Are you the consultant from MI-5?" asked Kurt. The man nodded.
"Y'might say that."
"Just who are you, exactly, Mr…?" said Kit. The man fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth.
"Constantine. John Constantine." Pete felt herself stop breathing as he stepped fully into the light. It couldn't be. This man was too old, too well-dressed, his face holding none of the life that John's had. Had, because John Constantine had died seven years ago…
He flicked his lighter against the end of the cigarette, and Pete knew for sure it was him.
"John?" she said. Her voice came out a tiny squeak. John squinted at her.
"Who's that?" Pete swallowed and forced the floor to stop spinning under her. The shock of seeing John was nearly overshadowed by the knowledge that he wasn't dead.
"It's me, John. Pete…" John's bright blue eyes grew wide, and it was his turn to gape.
"Pete?!" he cried. "Fuckin 'ell…"
"Excuse me," said Kit. "I'll thank you not to use that language in front of the ladies." John turned to Kit.
"Shut up," he said levelly. Kit blinked once and grew quiet. John looked back at Pete. "Is it really you?" he asked softly.
Pete never got a chance to tell him, because there was an angry screech from behind them and Excalibur and John were set upon by four or five creatures that looked like dogs. Large, scaly, dogs with big slobbering fangs.
"Scatter!" Nightcrawler yelled, bamfing out of reach. Kit phased through one of the demons as it leapt at him and the rest of the team turned and ran for their lives. Pete fired a volley of hot knives at one that was about to take a bite out of Meggan's retreating backside. It screeched with pain until it was silenced by Colossus, who put a metal-covered fist through its head.
"Meet us up top!" he snapped at Pete as more of the creatures poured in from the surrounding tunnels. Pete turned to find John staring at her, his mouth open slightly.
"Y'never told me you could do things like that, luv."
"I'm a mutant," said Pete shortly.
"Ah," said John. "In that case, would you mind killin' the one who's blockin' our way out?" Pete turned to find a particularly large demon dog advancing on her, its improbably large jaws hanging open. A thin trail of saliva leaked out as it snarled at Pete.
"Toerag," she said as she blew its head off. Seeing their leader downed, the rest of the hounds took the opportunity to get a free meal of their own. Pete grabbed John's arm and started to run. "How the bloody hell do you get out of this place?!" she shouted at him.
"No soddin' idea," John replied as they rounded a sharp corner. Pete stopped short as she came face-to-face with three men in black coveralls, armed with machine guns.
"Shite," she muttered. The men looked surprised, to say the least, but one had the presence of mind to aim at her and John.
"Orders are to clean the tunnels," he said. "Of anything livin'."
"They look pretty alive t'me," sniggered the second one. Pete felt panic roil her stomach for her first time. Three men with high-velocity rifles were probably evenly matched against her mutant powers. Plus she had John to think of...
"Say, gents," said John, stepping in front of her. "I've got a bloody fantastic idea. Why don't you all forget about us, put those peashooters down and go say hello to that lot down the tunnel?" His smile grew sadistic. "I'm sure they'd love t'meet three strapping lads like yourselves." Pete watched in amazement as the three men's eyes grew glassy. As one, they set down their guns in the dank ankle-deep water and walked slowly down the tunnel towards the hounds. Pete winced as she heard screams and the sound of tearing flesh.
She turned to John. "How did you do that?"
"Power of persuasion, luv," said John. "Now come on…that lot will only be a light snack to what's behind us." He grabbed a ladder and started to climb. Pete started to follow, but heard a sound from the dark. She reacted a moment too late.
"John!" One of the demons jumped out of the darkness from the other direction, swiping at John with its massive paw. He cried out and fell, three broad scratches in his left arm. "Fuck," Pete cursed. She aimed a stream of hot knives at the beast, trying to ignore the screams from both it and John and the smell of searing flesh. She helped John up. "Can you climb?" His face was pale, but he nodded.
"I'll manage."
Pete had never been more happy to see the overcast skies of London than she was when she shoved the manhole cover off and climbed into the open air. She leaned down and gave John her arm, pulling with all of her strength. He flopped out of the manhole and lay prostrate on the pavement, bleeding quietly. "I'm not gettin' paid enough for this shite," he said, before his eyelids fluttered and he passed out.
"Bloody…" said Pete, shaking him. "Constantine. Wake up, mate, I can't soddin' carry you."
"Pete!" Pete turned to see Kit and the rest of the team running towards her.
"'es hurt," she said when they reached her. Colossus reached down and picked John up.
"Let's get him back to Muir Island, ja?" said Kurt. "Moira will take care of him."
"No…hospital…" John muttered, pushing feebly against Piotr with his good arm.
"Chill, Mr. Constantine," said Kit. "You're in good hands." John rolled his head towards Kit and gave him a skeptical look.
"Bloody wonderful," he said, before passing out again.
xxx xxx xxx
"It's only a wee scratch," said Moira. "Ye'll be back on yer feet in no time, Mr. Constantine." John winced as she sewed him up.
"Bloody 'ell, woman, didn't they teach you not to manhandle yer patients?" He yelped as Moira shoved the needle through an un-numbed patch of skin. "Yer a bleedin' sadist, you are!"
Pete could hear his yelling well outside the med lab door, and smiled to herself. Same old John. She stopped before going in. It had been a long time. She was a child when she'd last seen him. How much had they both changed?
"Yer friend is as big of a baby as ye are, Wisdom," said Moira by way of greeting.
"And that woman should have her license revoked," said John, rubbing his arm dramatically.
"Moira, you 'ave a license to do this?" said Pete in mock incredulity. "And here I thought you just sent away for courses over the internet." Moira narrowed her eyes.
"Any hope ye had of me ever likin' ye just flew out the window, Wisdom." She flounced out, slamming the door behind her. John raised an eyebrow.
"Your friends just get weirder and weirder, Pete." Pete sat on the edge of his hospital bed.
"How's the arm?" John shrugged.
"Clawed on. I'll live, I reckon." Pete nervously reached for a cigarette. Moira's rules be damned, she was too nervous to function without her fags.
"Bloody hell, Constantine. I 'aven't seen you in…seven years, I guess."
"Long time," John agreed shortly. He reached for his coat, which was draped over the end of the bed. "Well, Wisdom, thanks for yer 'ospitality, but I'd best be on my merry way."
"Wait!" Pete protested. "You only just got here."
"Yeah. And now I'm leavin'," said John. "Guess I'll see you in another seven years, Pete." He stood, a bit unsteadily, and left the lab. Pete exhaled a long stream of smoke as she watched him go.
"Well, shite."
Kit came in as John was leaving. "Pete? What are you doing in here?" Pete puffed, trying to conceal her confusion at John's exit.
"Just sayin' 'ello. Constantine and I used to be…friends." Kit raised an eyebrow.
"Isn't he kind of old for you, Pete?" Pete nodded.
"Eight years older, to be precise." Kit's face grew an expression of horror.
"You two didn't…" Pete waved a hand.
"I was a kid, Kit. No, I didn't shag him." Kit blanched even more.
"I didn't mean that. I meant were you two…you know…boyfriend/girlfriend?"
"Oh yeah. Guess you could say we were that." Kit scuffed his sneaker against the floor.
"Oh." He looked at her with irritation. "Pete, for the last time—what have I told you about smoking?" Pete rolled her eyes.
"It's a filthy 'abit and I'll die an agonizing and 'orrible death well before my time if I keep it up." Kit looked down at Pete's perfect recitation of his oft-given speech.
"I guess I'm just one big annoyance to you, huh Pete?" Pete sighed, stubbing out her cigarette.
"Luv, I didn't mean that. I'm really sorry, okay? Just a bit of a start to see John after all this time." She stood and kissed Kit on the cheek. "Don't be cross. I love you, you know."
"I know," Kit muttered. "I'll see you later. I have to go help Moira compile the data we gathered in the sewers."
"Just tell me you aren't mad at me, please," said Pete in a pleading tone.
"Okay. I'm not mad at you. Bye, Pete." Pete muttered.
"Bugger." She headed for the balcony to smoke in peace, stopping when she saw John was already there. She didn't know what his problem was, but at least she could have one of the men in her life not angry with her. She walked over and leaned against the railing next to John. "Got a light, sailor?"
John sighed, flicking the end of his cigarette. "I jus' want to stand out 'ere and 'ave a smoke."
"That's what I want, too. They don't like it when I smoke inside. Kit's already given me one of his speeches."
John reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his lighter, handing it to Pete. "Kit that skinny one who tol' me not to curse in front of ladies?"
"Yeah."
John snorted. "Tosser. Jus' blow the smoke in 'is face the next time he gives you trouble."
"I can't do that."
"Why not? Probably be pretty funny to watch, now that I think of it."
Pete looked down. "'Cause Kit an' I…well…we're together, John."
John's eyebrows raised at that. "You're with 'im? Bleedin' 'ell, Wisdom, wot you do, pick 'im up after school?"
"You're one to talk, John!" Pete exclaimed. "I was sixteen when you moved in on me."
"Moved in on you? Hardly. Besides, wot you an' me had, that was different."
"Different? How?"
"It just was."
"How can you know a bleedin' thing about my relationship with Kit? I'll 'ave you know that we're in love."
John took a long drag off his cigarette. "That's bloody wonderful. Invite me to the wedding. I won't come, but I might send you a tin of biscuits or something."
"You're a bastard, John Constantine."
"That's the general consensus, luv. But really, if that wanker makes you 'appy, then good on you both. Guess you got yourself a nice, respectable guy now." John added to himself, "If you can call a bloke in yellow spandex 'respectable.'"
"Wot's that supposed to mean?"
"Take it 'ow you want."
"John, you don't think…"
"Wot, that you just tossed me aside like I was as worthless as they said I was?"
"John, I have no bleedin' clue wot you're talkin' about."
John looked over at her and met her eyes. What Pete saw there made her feel cold. "I thought you were something special, someone who could actually understand me. But you weren't. I don't know wot was goin' through your 'ead, if you jus' wanted a thrill, or if you wanted to stick it to your sister. Either way, you fooled me good, girl. I 'eld on to the hope you'd come to me for the longest time, but I wised up an' accepted wot you really were—wot you are."
Pete looked at him, her expression one of hurt confusion. "But, John, I…"
"Save it," John snapped, throwing his cigarette down on the ground and stubbing it out under his shoe. "I don't want to 'ear any of your bleedin' excuses."
"But…"
Before Pete could say anything else, Nightcrawler appeared in front of them with a puff of smoke. John wiped the smoke away from his face, coughing. "Bloody 'ell, mate, that smells awful." His nose wrinkled. "Are you a demon?
"No, Herr Constantine, I am not," Kurt said with annoyance. "I, like most of Excalibur, am a mutant."
"Well, you smell like a demon. An' you look a bit like one, too."
Kurt chose to ignore John. "I vould like us all to meet for a quick debriefing before bed. I vould also appreciated your presence, Herr Constantine, if you are not too injured."
John had no desire to take place in the spandex-clad board meeting, but he figured he probably should. If his theories of what was really going on were right, then the entire world was in danger, and he'd hate to leave that in the hands of Excalibur. He had to live there, after all. "I'm fine."
"Good. Then let's go before it gets any later."
"Lead the way, mate."