AN: The last scene after the credits never happened. Chas is still very much dead and buried, not an angel/half-breed. Again with the cutting so if you don't like it please don't read. It is Chastine although nothing happens... nothing ever happens in my storys!
As the cool hard blade slid swiftly across milky white flesh covering his thin wrists he let out a low moan allowing his eyes to flutter closed… pure bliss.
Pleasure and pain, those two were often confused. They were separated by a very thin line and John Constantine tended to cross that line A LOT.
He could feel the blood pool up under his skin spilling over the edge to create thin red lines dripping leisurely down his arms.
Pain. Pain seemed to be his only release of late.
The prolonged sting a sharpened blade would inflict on his skin, the agonising burn a cigarette stub could create when enough pressure was applied.
Yes, John Constantine was a gluten for pain.
It was true he blamed himself for the tragic events which had unfolded recently and in a way it was his own form of punishment he insisted on carrying out.
Chas was dead.
In truth a part of John had died along with his young apprentice.
John Constantine wasn't one to grow attached to certain individuals, he never let his emotions cloud his judgement but with Chas it was different.
Of course he hadn't let anything happen between them both that was partly the reason for this unbearable agony he was now feeling.
He hadn't given in to the extreme pleasure he knew Chas would have provided him with but it was wrong and he knew it - John was old enough to know it was wrong.
Chas was little more than a child. An innocent child who knew nothing of John's impure thoughts for him.
John knew the bible. Jesus fucking Christ he was already condemned by the god forsaken book.
He had taken his own life and he had been condemned to hell and there was no way he was going to bring Chas down with him.
John knew the catholic take on homosexuals, bloody bunch of hypocrites the lot of them.
He wasn't going to be responsible for a boy as innocent as Chas getting caught up in the hell malarkey he himself had experienced.
Yeah it had been hard, it had taken every ounce of self control he had to stop himself slamming the kid against the wall and…
How could he be thinking this?
CHAS WAS DEAD!
He was dead and fucking buried and here he was still thinking about fucking his brains out!
He should have gone to hell.
He should be dead right now but instead it was Chas in his place.
A seventeen year old innocent boy dead before his life had even begun but still John fucking Constantine was still here.
Still living, still breathing, still feeling the agonising pain that life brought with it.
He let out a heart wrenching sob before gulping down a full glass of his favourite poison.
The amber liquid burned his throat but he had become accustomed to that by now.
He tightened his grip on the knife drawing another line into his flesh being careful not to cut too deep - he didn't want to end up straight back where he started.
He felt like a kid again.
He felt like that terrified and confused fifteen year old he had once been.
That weak kid who couldn't stand a little pain…
It was ironic his intolerance of pain as a kid had only brought him more as an adult.
If he had only gritted his teeth and bore it then he never would have gone to hell, never would have got into such a fucked up mess.
But that was wishful thinking, it always was.
He had done what he had done and there was no way to change it.
There was no way to bring Chas back and as much as it pained him to admit it he was gone.
John would never look into those big brown eyes ever again.
Never hear his childish laughter…
Never again be privileged enough to be graced with his presence.
John had always made it seem like Chas was a burden but in reality Chas was more than John could ever hope to be.
Chas Kramer had idolised him and even though he would never admit it John Constantine had always admired him for putting up with such shit.
Dropping the knife silently he picked up a cigarette placing it hastily between his quivering lips. He lit it with shaky hands taking a long, deep drag.
He looked down surveying the damage ha had inflicted on himself shutting his eyes tightly as his vision was filled with crimson blood.
Chas was gone and in his departure he had forgotten to return John Constantine's heart.