Title: Shaken (Part Three)
Author: fatedtoflames (DJ)
Pairing: John Constantine/Chas
Rating: PG-13 for swearing and some violence
Spoilers Movie: No, takes place before the movie
Summary: Supernatural crises are no problem for John Constantine. But when Mother Nature throws her gauntlet down on John's life, will he and Chas be able to handle the consequences?
X-Posted to three Constantine communities(total) and my private LJ.
John kneeled down where the policemen were gathered, looking around for any sign of a opening, a way they could rescue the trapped people inside. Nothing.
"Chas! Chas, you in there!" He yelled, leaning close to the ground. At first there was no answer, and he heard muffled female voices, and then…
"John…t-that you?"
John breathed a heavy sigh of relief despite how weak and shaky Chas's voice sounded. "Yeah, it's me, kiddo…how you doin' in there?"
Another hesitation, a pained gasp that was even audible above ground. "I...I've got r-reading material, t-that's for sure…"
John couldn't help but smile and shake his head. That was just like Chas, to make such a comment at a time like this.
"Chas, are you hurt?" No answer. "Chas…Chas!"
A frantic female voice answered instead. "Get us out of here, we can't breathe!"
"Chas, you fuckin' answer me right now!" John ordered.
"I'm h-here, John…I'm okay…"
"No he's not," John muttered, looking up at the policemen. "We have to get them out. Now."
One of the policemen sneered. "And just what do you propose that we do? The rescue team won't be here for at least another half hour, and we have no supplies."
John was about to just punch the guy, but then his eyes caught sight of something. The beam that he presumed Chas was stuck under was sticking up from the debris. If they could pull it out…but then the debris on top of it would collapse on the people beneath. That would kill them.
"Start removing as much of this shit as you can. And someone find a car that still runs good," he ordered the cops, and one of them shot him a glare.
"Who put you in charge?"
John sneered. "I don't see you doing anything more productive. You need to lose weight anyway, officer…so start hauling."
The officer was about to come after John, his jaw set and his fists tight, but Officer Hendricks grabbed his shoulder.
"Come on, man…there's people trapped down there. Now's not the time," he hissed.
John worked with the police, pulling away debris and occasionally calling out to the girls and Chas. The girls seemed okay, but Chas's voice grew weaker with every moment, and it was killing John. He couldn't stand to not hear the spark, the animation in the boy's voice.
"That's as much as we can get without moving something that could make the whole cavity cave in," Hendricks said to John as they stood back and surveyed the situation. "We'll just have to wait, Mr. Constantine."
John slowly shook his head. Hendricks was right, of course, but he wasn't sure they could afford to wait.
He leaned down once again, calling out to the girls. It was easier to hear them now, with much of the debris gone.
"Are you guys okay?"
A silence.
"I…I think he's dead...oh, god, I think he's dead!" A panicked voice returned, and John stopped breathing.
"Calm down, okay? Stay with me here. Can you reach him?"
"Y-Yeah…I think so…"
"Feel for a pulse, Lisa. And don't panic."
There was a long tense pause before her voice came back, a pause that almost made John physically ill. Finally, the girl spoke. "It's really weak…"
John took a few moments to contain a scream of frustration. "Alright, Lisa, you and Rachelle just hang in there. Keep an eye on him for me."
"There's nothing else we can do until the rescue crew gets here," Hendricks said with a regretful, helpless shrug, but John shook his head.
"We can't wait any more. He's dying."
"There's nothing we can do."
"Bullshit," John snapped, looking over the situation frantically. There had to be some way to reach Chas, some way to save him…
"You look simply dreadful, Constantine."
John spun around, shocked to see Balthazar standing there, looking as smug as ever, impeccably neat even in the wreckage.
"Now's not the time, asshole," John snapped, turning away.
"How long has he been trapped? I hear suffocation is a deliciously horrid death…"
John turned on Balthazar in a fury, grabbing him by the collar. "You better fuckin' shut your mouth. I'm not gonna deal with your shit right now."
Balthazar shrugged. "I just figured you might want some help…and considering a few of my colleagues caused this whole mess, I almost feel as if I owe you that much," he said with an evil smirk.
John scowled. "I should've figured this was the work of demons. Look, I don't have time for this. I'm busy."
Balthazar smiled deviously. "Allow me, by all means."
He stepped past John, kneeled down, and then reached down into the debris and rubble. With one yank of his unnaturally strong arm, aided by demon magic, of course, most of the rubble was shoved away.
John didn't bother to thank him or ask him why he did it- he shoved the half breed out of the way and began helping out the first person he saw, one of the girls. She was scratched up and looked like hell, obviously scared to death but otherwise fine. He passed her off to a couple other civilians and then helped the next girl out as Balthazar looked on with an amused expression.
As soon as the girls were safe John climbed down to where Chas lay, still pinned by the beam. He gently touched Chas's face, and the boy barely stirred and moaned softly. John cringed, his hand moving to rest lightly on Chas's shoulder.
John's eyes traveled up the beam pinning Chas down. There was no way they could move it. Not without other-worldly help.
"Chas…" He said softly, and then his eyes traveled up to meet Balthazar's smug gaze. Without a word, the question was passed along.
"You'll owe me," Balthazar said simply, and John barely nodded.
Not another word was spoken before Balthazar climbed down and joined John in lifting the beam, pushing it off to the side and dropping it. John dropped down beside Chas, surveying the damage and trying not to actually think about it.
Chas's shirt was soaked in blood, and he was covered in scratches and dust. John felt for a pulse, which was there, but butterfly-weak.
"He needs a hospital," he said, his voice choked on the words, looking up at Hendricks. "How do we get him to a hospital?"
Hendricks thought for a few moments, and then he said, "I can try to contact a helicopter, but they won't be able to land anywhere close. We'll have to transport him to them on foot."
John sighed and looked back down at Chas, resisting the urge to just pull him up into his arms and hold him, or run his fingers through those dusty curls.
"Somebody find me something to use as a stretcher."