Constantine opened his eyes. Everything was clean, purely white except for two big, red chairs in the center. Raphael was already sitting in one.
"Relax, John," Raphael said as soon as Constantine has started groping for his gun. "This is a dream, your dream to be exact. Besides," he grinned wickedly, "you've already killed me." He gestured to the chair across from him. Constantine sat down, eyeing suspiciously.
"What's going on?" he asked, gripping the red arm rests. "Where the fuck is Mary?"
"Asleep, John," Raphael answered. "Asleep right next to you. You know, while we are talking about her, there are a few things I'd like to…mention." He paused, waiting for Constantine's reaction. When it never came, he continued.
"You see, John, you need to think about how you're going to take care of my Mary. She's a liability, a target for all those demons you've pissed off. How's it going to feel when she gets kidnapped, tortured, raped, maimed, killed…" He smiled again. "Shall I go on?"
"I won't let anything happen to her," Constantine vowed.
"Oh, yes, because you love her," Raphael mocked. "Well, I loved her more, John, and I could provide for her." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. "I could have protected her from anyone and anything, what can you do?"
Constantine released his tight hold on the chairs armrests. He breathed, in and out, in and out…
"Raphael," he said calmly. "You are insane." Raphael laughed.
Constantine awoke. Once his eyes adjusted to the dark, he realized he was at home, still in bed, with Mary lying beside him. Mary…
She looked so beautiful, perfect, in her sleep. Once arm curled around her pillow and her knees bent, Constantine felt his heart melt. His hand lightly touched her face, gently smoothing several strands of dark, curly hair away.
"He's right," Constantine whispered softly. "Staying with me will only hurt you." He pulled his hand away, sighing. He thought about leaving, wondering if he could.
"No, I can't do that," he decided sadly. "I can't leave you after I've just found you." He laughed to himself, but it had no real humor. "There's always a catch…"
(0)
Mary woke up groaning, absently reaching out to John. When her hand felt nothing but the sheets, she opened her eyes, squinting at the unwelcoming light from the windows.
"John?" she called out, her voice still thick with sleep. "John, where are you?"
No one answered.
Mary bit her lip, swinging her legs off the bed and walking to the bathroom to freshen up. I need to get John to buy a new bathtub, she thought as she changed her clothes. She came out of the bathroom wearing her favorite pair of black yoga capris and a red tank top with her hair pulled into a ponytail. She sat on the edge of the bed and put on her old, worn out sneakers, waiting patiently for Constantine's arrival.
It was almost two hours before he finally showed up. Mary heard him toss something on the table and then rushed to meet him.
"Where have you been?" she cried, grabbing his hand. "I've been worried." Constantine shrugged out of her hold. He sat at the table and proceeded to open a pack of cigarettes.
"I thought you quit," Mary said softly, watching him light a cigarette, putting it in his mouth and inhaling.
"Old habits die hard," he said simply. He blew smoke out of his mouth.
"Well, where were you?"
"I needed to think, alright?" Constantine said harshly, making Mary cringe. "So I went out, big deal."
"Why are you acting like this?" Mary whispered.
"Acting like what?" he asked dryly, inhaling again. "Sorry to disappoint you, but this is me. Take it or leave it."
Mary narrowed her eyes. Without so much of a warning, she snatched the cigarette out of his mouth, dropping it on the floor and stomping on it with her foot. Constantine watched with uninterested eyes. He shrugged and reached for the pack. Mary grabbed it before he could. Opening one of the large windows, she threw it out on the street.
"I paid 2.50 for that," Constantine mildly protested, standing up. Mary walked up to him, and angry expression marring her pretty face, lifted one foot and stomped as hard as she could on his foot.
"God damn," he yelled, awkwardly hopping on his good foot. "What the hell was that for?"
Mary pointed a finger close to his nose. "You," she said, "are a bonehead."
"Bonehead?" Constantine repeated, not fully believing what he was hearing. His foot was also still hurting.
"Yes," Mary agreed fiercely. "A bonehead, and a dummy, and a…and a…and you're stupid!" She walked closer and closer to Constantine until he sat back down in the chair. She grabbed the front of his shirt.
"Listen," she said when he protested. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with you right now, but I know it isn't you."
"You don't even know me," Constantine said. Mary's face fell. Now, instead of looking angry, she looked crushed, but she didn't let go of his shirt.
"Yes," she said sadly, "I do. Just because I haven't known you for a long time doesn't mean I don't know you, John. I know you're strong and brave and smart, most of the time anyway. I know you mostly try to do the right thing. I know you're practically always chewing gum because you quit smoking. I know that you talk in your sleep. I know how you look when you're happy, sad, and angry, which is why I know this new persona is utter bullshit." She let go of his shirt, absently smoothing his collar.
"Now," she continued, "I'm going to go running and until I get back, I want you to fix what's wrong. Spank your inner moppet, do what you have to do, whatever. And when I come back, we'll talk. Ok?"
Constantine nodded, stunned and unsure of what to say.
"Good," Mary said. She walked past him, opening the door and then slamming it after she left. Constantine slammed his head against the table, ignoring the pain on his forehead.
This isn't going to be easy, he thought.
Constantine honestly didn't know what possessed him to go out, get drunk, and buy a pack of cigarettes. After he had woken up a second time during the night, he had felt like going out.
He ended up to Versailles, the dingy bar he had first met Mary at when she entranced him with her voice. He had a few lonely drinks, thinking about his dream and everything Raphael said.
Constantine knew it was impossible for him to break it off with Mary; he just couldn't do it, but that didn't mean that she couldn't do it. He would simply go home, act like an ass, and then she'd have to break up with him. It was a flawless plan.
Needless to say, Constantine was wrong, and now he felt worst than he did before. He didn't understand how Mary could think all those things about him; he wasn't anything like that.
How can she see that in me?
(0)
By the time Mary came back night had already fallen. She opened the door slowly, afraid of what she would find.
I was too harsh on him, she thought regretfully.
The place was covered in darkness, and Mary had to feel her way to the bedroom. When she got there, she saw a dark figure sitting on the edge of the bed, silently watching her. Mary gulped and leaned against the wall.
"Are you ok?" she asked after a few moments of silence.
"Yeah," Constantine said, his deep voice seeming to fill the room. He paused. "I'm sorry."
"What happened, John?" she asked. "Why were you so cold to me?"
"I was scared," he admitted.
"Of what?"
"Mary," Constantine sighed. "I'm scared of losing you. I've made too many enemies in my life, and I'm terrified that they'll hurt you."
"So you, what, decided to push me away, so I'd leave?" she asked.
"Yes."
Mary was caught between wanting to roll his eyes and wanting to kiss him with all the passion she could muster. Instead, she went to him, kneeling to gaze into his deep, brown eyes. Her hands rested on his knees.
"You think I've never thought of that?" she asked, smiling gently. "John, I know the risks, I know what could happen, and I don't care." One hand raised up to cup his cheek. "I'm sorry, John, but I'm staying with you no matter what."
Mary's heart soared when Constantine smiled. "So, is this a proposal or something?" he teased. "Because I dimly recall asking you first."
Mary laughed. "Do you still want me?" she asked. Constantine gently pulled her up to his eye level.
"Always," he breathed. "I love you more than anything, Mary." He kissed her, thrilled that she didn't leave him, even after the stunt he pulled.
"Let's get married," he muttered against her lips. "Let's do it now." Mary pulled back, staring at him questioningly.
"There's a church on the other side of tone," Constantine explained, pulling her close again. "I know the priest there, he can marry us tonight. We can make it legal tomorrow."
"Tonight?" Mary repeated, stunned. "Are you sure?"
Constantine kissed her lips softly. "I've never been more sure of anything else in my life," he admitted. Mary bit her lip.
"Ok," she agreed smiling. "Let's go married."
Pure joy and adoration were the only words to describe the look on Constantine's face. He had never felt so happy, so alive. It was surreal. This can't be happening to me, he thought.
