When Chas woke up again, his mother was sitting in the chair beside his bed, biting her fingernail nervously.
He shifted and groaned, quickly realizing that the tubes and wires had been diminished to one IV in his arm and nothing more, other than the obligatory heart monitor. Audrey caught sight of the movement, and she leaned forward and hugged him tightly.
"Chas, my baby, I thought you'd never wake up," she said with a sigh of relief, holding him close, her hand in his hair. He stiffened and waited until she pulled away to speak.
"How long have I been out?" he asked, his voice slightly slurred.
"A few days," Audrey said. "Not as long as the doctor thought. You're very lucky Mr. Constantine found you when he did."
Chas nodded, slowly trying to push himself up to a sitting position. Audrey fumbled for the bed remote and pushed it into his hands, and he used it to lift the head of the bed till he was mostly sitting up.
Chas looked around the room, half expecting John to walk in. "Where is John, anyway?"
"He went to eat some dinner, I think," Audrey said, grabbing onto Chas's hand. Chas pulled away.
"Why'd you do it, Chas?" she asked quietly. "I thought we were going to work things out."
Chas shrugged.
"You have to talk to me, darling. We can't fix things if you don't talk to me."
"You obviously don't want to talk, if you're sending a shrink to me."
Audrey sighed. "Is that what this is about, Chas? The psychologist? She's the best around here. I just wanted the best for you."
"That loon doesn't know what the hell she's doing."
"She seems very intelligent and logical to me."
"She's an egotistical bitch who thinks she can fix me. I don't need that, Mom."
Audrey paused again, unsure of what she could say. Chas was the first one to speak again.
"Is he still there?"
"Who?"
Chas rolled his eyes. "Santa Clause, Mom."
"Oh, Nicholas?" Audrey hesitated, and then nodded. "Yes, darling. He's still there. But I would really like for you to come home now, honey."
"No."
"I know you don't like him, but he's really not-"
"I said no. I'm not coming home till he's gone."
"He's not mad at you or anything."
"I don't care if he's mad. He deserved that punch. I don't like him."
"Why not, Chas?" Audrey asked, her voice rising in pitch. "He's been trying so hard to be nice to you all along."
"He's a fuckin' nerd."
"I know that's not the reason."
"You know what the damn reason is, Mom!" Chas snapped, and Audrey looked down at the floor. Chas paused, his head already pounding with pain.
"Come home, Chas," Audrey finally said. "You can't stay with Mr. Constantine forever. You've already overstayed your welcome and cause him so much trouble."
"He's an exorcist. I doubt I'm as bad as what he deals with in his job."
Audrey lifted her nose a bit. "With the way you've been acting, I highly doubt that."
Chas sneered at her, his fists tightening. "I'm not coming home till he's gone. I don't care if I have to live in a gutter."
Audrey set her jaw, her eyes shining with new tears. She slowly stood up.
"I'm going to go get my dinner," she choked out, walking out the door and letting it drop heavily behind her. Chas was about to relax when the door opened again. At first he thought it might be his mother changing her mind and returning, but soon the tall, dark frame of John Constantine became apparent in the doorway.
Chas looked away as he walked to the bedside, but John immediately caught his attention by setting two cups on the bedside table and pushing one toward Chas.
"Hot chocolate. Don't tell the nurses, they already caught me trying to sneak a brownie in here for you," he said with that characteristic half-smirk.
"Thanks," Chas said, grabbing at the cup and taking a sip of the warm liquid. He was absolutely famished, but hot chocolate would work. "How come you're still here, anyway?"
John shrugged, leaning back in his chair, taking a sip of what smelled like very strong coffee. "Your mom was having a rough time about it. I decided it was due time I took a vacation anyway. Possessed people won't go anywhere, just gotta look at the ceiling."
Chas laughed, wrapping his hands around his cup to savor the warmth. "You've got to take me sometime. I wanna see this stuff you're always talkin' about."
"I doubt your mother would like to have you coming home smelling like puke and demon goo."
Chas shrugged and yawned. "Who cares? I'm not goin' home anyway."
"Why not?"
"She's still got him there."
John nodded, pausing for a few moments. "So I'm guessing I should leave the air mattress set out for a while yet."
"You don't have to," Chas pointed out, feeling sleep tugging at him. "I can find somewhere else to go, easy."
"All your shit is at my house, kid. May as well just stay put so your mother knows you're safe."
"You wouldn't mind?" Chas asked sleepily, setting the hot chocolate aside.
"Nah. Besides, you still have that one wall to clean. You haven't finished your damn job yet, you slow little bastard."
John looked at Chas, Chas returned the gaze. Both smiled.
"M'gonna sleep, then…when can I leave?"
John sighed, looked at his watch. "Don't know. I'll check with the doctors while you get in a nap. I'll see which buttons I can push, maybe get you out of here tonight. I know how bad the food here can be."
Chas nodded, leaning back against the pillow, his eyelids heavy. "Sounds good…"
"Get some sleep, kid," John said, standing up and ruffling Chas's hair. Chas smirked, almost laughed, and within a few minutes he was asleep again, feeling much more at ease after speaking with John.
If only he could feel the same ease with his mother around.
2 Days Later
As planned, Chas was back at work cleaning the last of the spray paint as soon as he was strong enough to do so.
It was during one of those periods of working, when John was busy with other things at the table, when another knock on the door came. John got up and cracked open the door, and his expression immediately turned to a glare.
"Aw, hell, no. You think I'm letting you in here?" he said, and Chas glanced up to see Dr. Matthews standing at the door.
"I'm not here to have an intensive session, Mr. Constantine. I'm just here to chat."
"Well, how fucking kind of you. Hope you can talk loud, cause you'll be chatting through a closed door."
"Please," Dr. Matthews said, putting a hand on the door before John could close it. "Just let me speak to him. You don't have to leave, and I won't take long."
John hesitated, staring Matthews down for a few moments before glancing over his shoulder at Chas. "You okay with this?"
Chas shrugged. "Sure, whatever."
John opened the door the rest of the way, allowing Dr. Matthews to come inside. He slammed the door behind her, and she jumped.
"If Chas tells you to leave and one more word leaves your lips, I'll throw you down those stairs myself," John growled at her, stalking back over to the table to continue working. Chas didn't stop scrubbing at the wall, even as Dr. Matthews approached.
"Nicholas is going to be moving out next week," she said warily, and Chas snorted.
"Good for him. Goin' to live with mommy and daddy, I'll bet."
Dr. Matthews ignored the snide comment. "Your mother wants you to come home."
"Obviously not enough to come ask me herself."
"Your mother is distraught, Chas. She doesn't think you trust her anymore."
"Oh, gee, whatever gave her an idea like that?" Chas asked melodramatically.
"All she's asking is that you-"
John cleared his throat loudly, interrupting Dr. Matthews mid-sentence. She quickly changed her mind about persisting on the topic with Chas.
"Would you like me to bring your mother here? Just to talk?"
Chas shrugged, and offered no verbal answer.
"Would that be alright with you, Mr. Constantine?" Dr. Matthews asked, and John gestured to Chas with his glass of whiskey.
"His mother, his decision."
Matthews nodded. "Alright. I'll be back in a few minutes with your mother, and we'll see what we can work out."
With one more glance at John Dr. Matthews left the apartment. Chas and John were silent for a few moments, just concentrating on their individual work.
"I'm curious, Chas," John said, putting his paper down on the table. "Why do you hate this guy so much?"
Chas shrugged yet again. "He's trying to be my dad. And he's not."
John paused, took another swig of his drink.
"What happened to your dad?"
The scrubbing on the wall stopped. John looked on with a carefully blank expression.
"Something really bad," John said, an observation as opposed to a question. Chas nodded slowly, swallowing hard.
"It was my fault it happened in the first place," he said quietly, his hand beginning to idly scrub the wall again.
"I highly doubt that," John said with a light, humorless chuckle. He let a short silence set in, and then he put down his drink.
"What happened, Chas?"
Chas looked up at John, then down at the floor, then up at the graffiti on the wall. The room was filled with a tense silence, and then he sighed.
"Six months ago. My mom wanted to go to a ballet in town, but she didn't want to go alone. She hates doing stuff alone. But ballet isn't my thing, you know?" He started, finally dropping the scrub brush into the bucket of water at his feet. "So, since I wasn't about to go, Dad offered to go with her."
The story was becoming obviously more difficult to tell. Chas's throat tightened and his fists clenched and unclenched. "On the way there...a couple guys hijacked the car. They…"
He paused again, swallowing hard, sniffing. "They shot my dad, threw him out of the car, left him to die. Then they made my mom drive into an alley, and they raped and mugged her. And they never even found the fuckers. Still don't know who fuckin' did it."
He didn't dare to look up at John, to see the inevitable disapproval and blame there. He sniffed again, wiping his nose on his sleeve.
"I should've been the one that went, you know?" He said, his voice shaking. "I should've gone with her. I knew my dad hated that ballet shit as much as I did, but I was too worried about getting a stupid paper done."
As he spoke, Chas hardly noticed as John pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. He strode over to Chas with determined, long strides, and then yanked the teenager into a tight hug.
Chas wasn't expecting it, and stiffened at first. But after a few moments, the unexpected act of kindness took its toll on the shreds of emotional control the boy had been holding onto strictly for dignity. He let out a sob, falling into the embrace.
"It was my fault, I shoulda been the one with her," he sobbed into John's shoulder as the man rubbed his back.
"Ssh…it wasn't your fault, Chas. Nobody knew that was going to happen, you're no exception."
"But it should've been me," Chas insisted, and John lifted the boy's chin, looking him right in the eye.
"Your father wouldn't have wanted it to be you," he said, his voice stern. "You can't feel guilty for this. None of it is your fault."
Chas stared up at John, his eyes searching for any sign of deceit, and finding nothing. Just…John. He felt that strange nervous feeling come back, almost overpowering since his senses were weakened with sorrow, and he started to lean forward…
And there was a knock at the door. He jumped and gasped in surprise, and John yelled at whoever it was to hold on a minute.
He simply held Chas, stroking the boy's hair till he'd calmed down and gained control of his emotions. After a few minutes, he looked down at Chas and gently pushed him away.
"You ready to deal with the shrink and your mother? I can tell them to scram, if you want more time."
Chas shook his head. "No. I wanna get this overwith."
John nodded, and hesitated again, as if he wanted to say something more. He brushed it off, however, and headed for the door.