Constantine fell to his knees, cupping the small fetish in his hands. There wasn't much time. He crawled back to Elizabeth's body, sliding his hand down her side and finding the gaping hole. He kissed the ivory ball then pushed it into the wound. Casting around he couldn't find anything to draw with. Patted his pockets for anointing oil. None.

There was only one thing he could use. He ripped her shirt straight down the middle, away from her chest and dipped his fingers into the pool of blood that soaked the carpeting. Starting at her breastbone he drew the strokes of the sigils and symbols quickly, perfectly. He followed the images he saw with his inner eye, starting to chant the spoken invocation of the spell.

As he swiped the last stroke on the final symbol, the whole incantation sparkled then burst into flames, burning into Elizabeth's skin, down into her very being. Constantine placed his hands over the lethal wound and repeated the chant over and over in his head with all he had left.

The flames burned white hot then blue, then faded away and died entirely. Charred skin in the shapes of the symbols was all that remained.

Elizabeth sucked air into her reanimated lungs and screamed back into the land of the living. John felt the wound under his hands begin to close. He removed them and watched the muscles, tissue and flesh rebuild and knit anew. Around the fetish charm, until there was nothing that remained that would ever reveal the secret. He pulled Elizabeth up and held her as she coughed and spat out the blood that clogged her mouth and throat.

Their eyes met and in what little light remained he could see the sparkling crystal blue was gone, replaced by a darker, deeper blue. He held the sides of her head in his hands and pulled her to him, putting his forehead to hers. Mentally he sought their link, to see if death or God had severed it.

I'm right here, John.

Good. Don't ever fucking leave me again, Elizabeth. His mouth found hers, alive and warm once more. They kissed, gripping one another for long moments, each assuring the other that they were very much alive. Constantine finally pulled away, nuzzling his face into her collarbone.

"Time to get out of here." He slowly got up, knowing he was going to be a big mess of sore muscles and bruises in the morning. Elizabeth's hand still clasped his wrist; he gently pulled her to her feet, wincing as his shoulder screamed in protest. "The shotgun. Can you locate it?"

"Hold on." Elizabeth cast out, then recast again, having to reset her focus. "Down under a chair in the front row." They both staggered down the aisle, holding one another up, groping their way towards the desired object. Constantine reached down and scooped up the golden shotgun. Attached on top was the golden tube that held dragon's breath. It had been a gift from Beeman not so very long ago. It was probably the last John would ever get, too.

"Fuck it." Constantine muttered, pushed Elizabeth slightly behind him and started to back up slowly. When they reached the doors to the lobby, he thumbed the button and the entire sanctuary alit with the pure flame. Everything it licked instantly leapt into flame and spread quickly. The remains of the fallen Cherub and his angel followers exploded quickly into cinders and ash when the fire reached them.

"Fire cleanses all." Constantine slipped out the swinging doors, the inferno that was the sanctuary blocked from view. In the lobby, the lights were flickering, but enough light remained to see by. The sun had set completely while they'd fought. John scanned the room and found nothing but the plush carpet and gaudy decor. Good, he'd completed the job Heaven had given him.

John looked over at Elizabeth who stood beside him, a mess of torn and bloodied clothing. Her hair was tangled and matted with blood in places, and between her breasts was a streak of ash. He reached over and brushed it away, Elizabeth stepping back a bit in surprise. The remnants of her shirt crumbled away, scorched by the heat of the magic flames. She blinked and crossed her arms over her chest in modesty.

"Wait… let me see." John gently pulled her arms down. She looked up at him, not blushing like she would have before, but clearly not understanding what Constantine was doing. His fingers moved to the skin between her breasts and began to trace the magical tattoo that had formed, the markings the same as the ones he'd drawn in her blood. It ran between her breasts and stopped just above her abs, exactly where he'd drawn them. But no longer blood; the ink was fresh and glossy black.

Elizabeth looked down and watched John trace the incantation. "You brought me back."

"In a way." He removed his fingers and slowly, painfully, shrugged out of his trench coat. "Come on, that fire will burn everything including us if we don't get out of here." He could feel the heat rising to an unearthly level just behind the sanctuary doors. They didn't have time to spare. Throwing his trench coat around her shoulders he pushed Elizabeth towards the front doors that lead outside. "Get us a cab, will you."

They made it around the corner of the second block, to the waiting Yellow Cab, when the building complex of Our Father's Church exploded into a fireball that lit the sky for miles around. Neither flinched as the resounding roar sounded between the buildings.

"What the fuck was that!" The cabbie's cigarette fell from his mouth and landed in his lap. He yelped and smacked the ashes out.

"Just drive." Constantine ordered calmly, laying his head to the top of Elizabeth's, his eyes closing.