A.N. Sorry it has taken me so long to update but school is finally out, so expect updates more often. And remember the more reviews, the quicker the updates come Wink.

Oh and for those who remember the movie better than I do, please tell me if I am making any mistakes. I'm pretty sure John Constantine had his name burned or carved into the side door frame of his apartment, if not tell me. I like to be as accurate as possible for the reader's sake. :D

And one last thing, if I don't get John's personality or his smart ass-ness (whatever you want to call it) then tell me. I don't want to make him to much of a softy, he sure wasn't in the movie. Well you know what I mean…..NOW………….

ON WITH THE STORY!

My Child, Ch. 3 John Constantine

His name had been burned into the left side of the door frame to his apartment. The dark discoloration stood out against the natural brown of the rest of the door. Resisting the urge to run my fingers across the rough looking scar, I clinched my fist and took a deep breath before knocking. As I raised my hand to knock the door flung open causing me to gasp.

"Uh…John Constantine?" I stared up at the man who flung the door open. His face was set in hard lines making him seem in a negative mood. He looked as though he had just woke up late for work and needed a cigarette. Pretty rough, but that didn't take away from how handsome it was. Dark eyes and hair seemed to make his skin pale. His choice of black suit clothes didn't help the illusion either.

"Well what do you want?" he asked, voice rough and annoyed.

"well I…um, my name is Karen Jennings and I was… Actually I found your name and address in the phone book and I was wondering if you could help me." He wrinkled his eyebrows.

"I'm not the police lady.."

"Karen. Call me Karen." I interrupted.

"If you need help with an abusive husband or whatever…"

"No. Its not that kind of problem. You see I've been having these strange dreams and I didn't know if they were related to uh…well I'm pregnant and I didn't know if the two were related. I'm also having physical symptoms because of the dreams and I need to know if or how serious this is. If it could get worse, that sort of thing." I bowed my head down, taking a deep breath then slowly looked back up. Annoyed, no bored eyes met mine. "Will you see what you can do?"

"No." he said bluntly and pushed passed me.

I turned and followed him with my eyes. "You're not even going to try? You're not even going to hear me out?"

"No." he didn't even stop while answering.

"Please! Wait! I can pay you!" He stopped and slowly turned to me.

"I don't want your money."

"I don't want to give you my money, but I think this is serious and I need your help. You're the only one I know of who might be able to tell me why I'm having these dreams." He just stood there for a moment before pulling a cigarette out of a pack he got from his jacket pocket. He fiddled with the paper stick, moving it between his fingers, then he put it between his lips and with a lighter from the same pocket, light the cig, cupping his hands around it as he did so. Taking a quick drag, he blew the smoke out in a cloud.

"What would I know about dreams?"

" You tell me. I know of your line of work and that in some instances a….a demon can invade its victims dreams. Right? That's what I've read." He took another drag and blew smoke.

"Sometimes."

"Should I tell you my dreams or what?" I lifted my arm to him, showing him my forearm. A red symbolic mark about an Inch wide and an inch long was there just below the flat of my palm. "Do I need to show you this? How do you want to do this?"

"you're serious about this, aren't you." It wasn't a question. He looked me in the eyes for the first time.

"Yes. I've been having these strange dreams ever since I got pregnant." John Constantine sighed and took a drag of the cig. He blew the smoke out and said, "Lets go back inside. I have a felling I'm going to need to sit for this one."

"Do you know what that symbol means?" he asked once we got into his apartment.

"It's a mark of ownership or like a brand of some sort. That's all I know about it. The rest of the pages on the symbol and its meaning had been torn out."

"Torn out?"

"Yes. The store owner of the book store I went to said that a man had came in and just simply walked over to one of the shelves and took the book, started rummaging through it and started tearing out the pages…well half of the page anyway."

"Really…and what happened next? Did he tell you?"

"He said the man just left and took the pages with him. The storeowner went after him but when he got out the door the man was nowhere to be seen."

John sighed. He took another drag of his cigarette but this time he started coughing when he blew the smoke out.

"You know those things will kill you." I said looking at him soberly. He glared at me before sitting down and putting out the cig.

"The symbol is a brand used by demons in Hell's bible, where they would take mortal women and use them as breeders to create more warriors for their cause or sometimes a half breed makes it on to earth, he finds a women and unites with her. She becomes pregnant. They don't always know that the women became pregnant but when they do, they track her down and take what is theirs." I visibly shuddered. This was getting way to bizarre.

"Well I sure as hell wasn't taken as a breeder…is it possible…never mind. I just can't see the man who fathered this baby being a half demon." I shook my head. "I usually would never believe this sort of thing. As a matter of fact I would probably leave right now if I wasn't positive something strange was happening."

"Well what's stopping you? For all you know I could be lying to you." I looked at him. Face hard.

"Are you?" he tilted his head slightly looking at me.

"I wish I was." I looked back down folding my hands in my lap.

"Are there half breed angels…is that what you would call them?"

"Yes, but they're all called half breeds. Their purpose is serving the fuller bloodline. They, by that I mean both breeds, spend most of their time trying to weasel their way up with the big boys or over ruling them."

"They always have a sob story telling why they need to create a new heaven or hell."

"So…"

"You know, you never told me who the sorry bastard is…the father."

"Well he said his name was Christian, but his friends called him Balthazar. I almost laughed at the irony. A guy named Christian getting a nickname like…"

"What did you say!"

A.N. Alright! Tell me what you guys think. And I'll need a bit more help with Christian mythology as you can probably tell. Oh I hope you Like that whole Christian/Balthazar twist hehehe.