AN: Thankee for reviews you know I luv em!
Yukebabe - I'm glad you like my tortured characters u know me I love to deal out angst and pain in BIG bundles. Don't worry bout not reviewing I know how it can be sometimes! Please please please update AA! Lol catch ya l8rs!
Hope you all like this chap and dnt forget reviews mean MORE chaps!
The tension in the room was unbearable. You could practically cut it with a knife, solid state and all…
I took a large gulp of whiskey, hissing in pain as my fresh wound was pulled taunt.
"You okay?" John asked his dark eyes oozing concern.
Fuck this was a pile of shit! Total and utter shit.
I wasn't exactly in the mood to be 'looked after' after being stabbed. I wasn't exactly happy trying to influence John… Help him into heaven when I was so clearly damned by God.
Fuck this piece of crap task and fuck John Constantine.
I glared draining the glass, another hiss escaped my lips as my wound was yet again pulled uncomfortably.
"You can have the bed." John told me as I rose to leave.
"What about you"
"Don't worry bout me kid"
I rolled my eyes. I didn't exactly expect to be sleeping on the floor! I just wanted to get this over with. I wanted to go home and collapse on MY bed. I was pretty screwed my rent was still overdue and I had no way to pay it.
I made my way into the bedroom ready for a decent night sleep.
It was dark and so very silent, eerie after all this was LA.
Thin strips of moonlight were cast around the ghostly room, filtered from the open blinds giving it an angelic glow.
The room was pretty empty. A bed, some cupboards that's it.
I began to drift off slowly slipping from consciousness. My body relaxed and my mind began to shut down.
BANG BANG BANG.
Shuffling then a door opening.
"Chas?" I heard John's voice say questionably.
Weak sniffling, a sob.
"John I can't go back there, please John please don't make me"
More shuffling.
"Come in"
Footsteps. Chas entering the apartment.
"Sit down kid"
Another sniffle then silence.
The clink of glass on glass, liquid being poured, the dull thud of a bottle being replaced on the wooden table.
John's way of comforting people. I didn't blame him alcohol was good for that, believe me I know!
"What happened"
A small sob escaped quivering lips. Chas was upset that much I could tell from my silent solitude.
"Chas?" John questioned this time more firmly.
Silence.
"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" John screamed.
I was fully awake now, my previously sleepy state at the VERY back of my mind.
I couldn't see what was going on…
Chas raised his shirt gingerly holding back yet another sob (the pain was unbearable) revelling angry bruises covering the entirety of his stomach, abdomen… Basically everywhere. They were fresh not more that a couple hours old but bruised all the same… A beating like that, poor kid would be feeling it for months.
"Chas what happened"
"He came home drunk I didn't have time... I couldn't stop him." Chas sobbed tears streaming down his face.
"That mother fucking bastard, that's it. Final straw." John screamed.
The scrape of a chair, John rising to his feet.
"John please." The boy pleaded his entire body convulsing with silent sobs.
Silence.
"You're staying here kid"
A silent nod, or so I imagined.
"Faith's in my room"
"She okay"
"I think so… As well as can be expected. She's still in pain, probably a little shocked. She nearly died Chas it's gotta be hard"
"Yeah"
"You can take the couch, I know it's not much but it's all I got"
"Thanks John"
Silence.
Another sniff.
Those two really had something.
Best of friends, maybe more.
You wouldn't think of it when they were arguing like an old married couple but when it mattered, when it really mattered… That's when you could see it.
I began to slip back into my gentle sleep the dull ache of my wound dissipating very slowly. If the pain killers weren't working the booze defiantly was!
I woke to a beautiful morning, sun shining, birds singing…
My head was splitting, my body aching… My fresh wound aching, stinging.
I pulled back the covers, red with blood…
Red with blood? The cotton pad covering my wound was drenched.
My stomach and pyjamas also shining with the copper tinged liquid.
The pain was bad. My hand came away crimson. The stitches must have come loose…
I pulled myself unsteadily to my feet swaying ever so slightly.
My bare feet thudding softly on the warm carpet.
I stepped into the living room holding my bleeding body.
John was already up a cigarette carefully positioned in his hand, whiskey placed solitarily on the table.
Chas was still asleep on the couch, chestnut curls falling carelessly over his face.
He didn't see me come in, didn't realise my pain.
"John…" I gasped.
He turned a look of shock in his red tinged eyes, had he been crying?
I lost my footing, stumbled falling clumsily to my knee's.
A fresh wave of pain swept over me… I cried out.
"Wha?" Chas sat up groggily his face turning pale as he saw me kneeling covered in blood.
John quickly got to his feet making his way hastily towards me.
"Faith, it's okay just breathe"
I took a shaky breath as he helped me to my feet.
"I need my pills." I said through gritted teeth.
I had to hold the pain at bay, needed to concentrate, to work through this.
John led me carefully into the kitchen placing me in the nearest chair.
He looked at me, his eyes melting me with his concern.
Grabbing my pills he filled an empty glass with water handing me them both with steady hands.
I took them willingly practically shoving the tiny pills down my throat, gulping the liquid hungrily after.
"Better?" John asked.
I shock my head. No.
He took my empty glass refilling it full to the brim with whiskey.
I knocked it back bracing myself for the initial sting.
"How bout now"
"Fan-fucking-tastic." I heaved whipping my chin.
"Let's get you cleaned up."
It was a little later.
I was felling much better, my blood stained cloths replaced with fresh ones, my blood stained body washed away.
Chas was in the bathroom trying to ease his pain a little. It was worrying seeing the bruises up close… I wanted him to see a doctor but he declined.
John was smoking his cigarette absorbed in his own world of twisted problems.
His cigarette dangled between his lips, smoke forming tight circles around his almost perfect body.
"John"
"Hmm"
"Can I have one"
John looked up taking another puff almost teasing me.
"No"
"Why"
"You're too young to be killing yourself"
I let out a harsh laugh, flinching a little at the pain this brought.
"You want me to walk to the shops in my condition"
"Fine you win." He said throwing me his pack of smokes.
I caught them, pulled one out placing it between my lips.
I signalled him to toss his lighter which he did.
The cold metal felt foreign beneath my fingers. Tiny engravings covered its entirety… It truly was beautiful. I flipped the lid, lit it and brough the flame to my waiting cigarette.
I drew in a deep breath, savouring the tang of nicotine in my experienced mouth.
How long had it been since I'd had one of these? Three, four days? A week? I couldn't remember.
I smiled savouring my passion, sighing in deep relief.
"All better." I grinned.
John shook his head smiling ever so slightly.
God he looked good. His ebony hair, dark cinnamon eyes… Prince fucking charming.
He noticed me looking.
I stood up walking towards him, knelt in front of him ignoring the EXTREME agony this brought.
I leaned forward placing my lips softly on his…
For a moment I thought he would kiss me back but he didn't. Instead he pulled away, walked over to the window and stayed there his back to me.
Way to go Faith. Make him think you're a nut job.
"Whatever." I said rising to my feet choking back a sob.
I made my way calmly into John's room, filling my bag.
I'd had it with this shit.
Being looked after.
Being cared for.
This wasn't my life.
Fuck this God damn task.
Fuck God.
I was through with the lot.
I walked from his apartment knowing he wouldn't follow.
Knowing that he had given up on me and my messed up life and I was grateful.
I was happy with my misery, happy with my pain.
I didn't need anyone's pity.
I didn't need John Constantine.