Thanks for reviewing people. My internet is screwed up so bad now it isn't funny. I have just now noticed that I have not been leaving a disclaimer. So I must start that right away or else. Anyway hope you guys like this chapter. Here is Chapter Eight (wow I can't believe I've made it this far)

Disclaimer: I do not own Constantine or any other characters in this story.

Chapter Eight

This made John laugh, in spite of everything. He took her hand into his own and smiled.

"Angela, you're a police woman, the bravest I know, and you've fought the son of satin for Christ's sake! You are brave and you're far from a coward, so please just tell me"

Angela nodded, tears in her eyes. Then she told what had happened.

Angry, irate, infuriated. Enraged, these words weren't even close to what Jon Constantine was feeling at that exact point. Knuckles going white from clutching them tightly, cutting off circulation and trying to restrain himself from going crazy, he stayed calm. For Angela's sake. Oh, the things he would do to Brendan when he found that worthless piece if shit. John sighed and looked back at Angela as she finished.

"That It?"

He didn't mean to sound rude but it slipped out, Angela nodded sadly then turned her head to look at Angelina, who was playing but the bed with Duck.

"Weird thing is, when he touched me, I just…I don't know….I guess you could say blacked out "John raised an eyebrow at this. Angela sighed. "Not like that just, like I know he's killed someone, someone I know." She looked back at him and smirked at her own comment.

"I know it sounds dumb, Just ignore my ramblings, I haven't adjusted yet to…I guess you could use the word 'gift' in my situation" John shook his head, wanting to say something, but not yet finding the words. He sighed, rolled his eyes at his stupidest to let Angela go alone and sat up.

"I want you to lock the doors and take a shower and then go to bed." He turned, not wanting to explain what he was about to do to a cop. Reaching for the door handle when he got to the door, he felt Angela's cold fingers curl around his. "What are you going to do?" She asked shakily, quivering as she spoke. John, wanting to not explain, looked behind his shoulders at her curious, pale face. Looking back at the door he sighed once more.

"Lock the door" snatching his fingers away from hers, gently, he walked out the door. Leaving Angela to do what she was told.

John walked briskly down the street. It was mid November, and a strange cold front had moved in. Everyone, perplexed by this, saw this for a new opportunity to have a new fashion statement of coats and scarves. John rolled his eyes when he saw a gaggle of young teenage girls around a glass window, drooling over the new winter coats from Gap.

Taking a turn at the next block he went down, he walked into an Irish Pub that was filled with cigarette smoke. Scanning the bar and seeing no sign of Brendan, he walked over to the bar tender. The middle aged man who had wrinkles under his eyes and a tired look over his eyes, walked over to John.

"Anything I could get you?" he asked, looking at Constantine suspiciously. John shuffled his feet and looked at the bartender. "You know anybody by the name of Brendan Flynn?" he asked, straight forward and to the point. The bartender raised an eye brow and looked around. "Yeah, I know him. Shady character, always having a number of drinks." He looked at John again.

"What's your business with the son of a bitch?" John smirked.

"He…kinda got on my bad side" Getting the point, the bartender pointed to the ally. "Always goes off and gets stoned back there, you might catch him, before the cops do" Thanking the man, John walked out. Reaching into his pocket he slipped on the knuckle busters. Flexing his fingers, adjusting to the busters, he saw a fire off in the distance. Smiling evilly, he walked down the ally. A man hunched over behind a barrel, was snorting Heroin on the ground. John walked over to him, knowing it was Brendan. When Flynn saw him, his already dilated eyes grew big. "Holy…"

In one quick movement, John punched Brendan in the nose, blood dripping from the mans nose and splattering on the gold of the knuckle busters. Brendan open his mouth in a silent yell and John pinned him up by his throat, smacked on the brick side of a building. Gagging, Brendan clawed at John's hand but to know avail. John's hands shook with fury. Leaning in closer to Brendan's, he whispered rashly, "Don't you ever come near Angela again!" He looked back up at Flynn to find him smiling.

" Quite a Bitch you got…" A punch in the gut was received. " Easy there John, I've got info that you would probably like to know." John raised an eyebrow and squeezed Brendan's throat harder.

"If you're planning anything, I swear I'll rip your sorry…" Brendan laughed and kicked John in the gut. Constantine staggered back, coughing. Damn. Brendan had pointed cowboy boots on. John stood up straight, only to be hit again with foot. Yelling in pain, John feel to the ground, vision blurring. Brendan continued to laugh and sat on his heels looking at John. He laughed even more, making John sick to his stomach.

"You know John, you're a real hoot. Especially when playing hero" John grimaced and tried to sit up, but failed. That's when he saw it, the glorious metal pipe by his hand. Grinning, he grabbed it and slung it at Brendan's head. The sound of metal hitting skull filled the silent street and John felt the shudder of something crack come up to his arm. Brendan fell to the ground lifelessly and all was still.

John got up with much effort and threw the metal pipe to the ground. Wiping the blood from his face he looked down at Brendan. Who was still breathing slowly. John sighed. " I gave you your life back once and you took it without much care, without a thank-you, and you sold it back to Satan." Turning slowly he looked over his shoulder. " How pathetic can you get." Walking back he heard a laugh. He looked back quickly to find Brendan had gotten up, Eyes red and blood spouting from head.

" She will die" he said in hell speak. " And you will suffer" With one last laugh he vanished, a flock of crows taking his place. John's eyes widened and began to walk back. Looking at the blood on his hands again he sighed. A painful one this time.

Angela began to do what she was told as she watched John go. Locking the doors she double checked and when she was done, she felt safe enough to take a bath. Filling the tub with scalding hot water, she got in. Water burning her skin bright red, she just had to get that cold tingling feeling off of herself. And also, Brendan's scent. Grabbing a wash cloth, she began to scrub. She scrubbed harder and harder with each stoke. Skin starting to sting with pain and already turning a bright red, she stooped. Feeling the lump in her throat again, she swallowed it and got out. Wrapping a towel around herself, she walked out of the bathroom. When she walked out the front door opened.

John Constantine stood there, breathing hard and covered in blood. Noticing Angela he smiled. "Seems I've walked in at a bad time." Angela rolled her eyes and went over to the dresser. John had given her one drawer for herself. Everything fit into the old fashioned dresser that Angela was surprised.

Feeling slightly odd Standing in front of John in just a towel she decided to speed up the process. Leaning her scars out in the open kinda made her feel small. Hearing John walk toward her, she looked at him. Surprised he wasn't looking at anything perverted, she followed her gaze to her scars. She let out a soft "oh" and gathered her clothes in front of her. Noticing John was standing in her way she gestured for him to move. But he stayed still. " Could you move please, or do you like gawking at me?" she asked, voice trembling. John smirked and stood aside, letting her pass.

Angela came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, dressed in black sweat pants way to big for her and a white tank top. Drying her hair out in the towel she found John looking at her again. " What?" she asked, irritation coming in. John shook his head. Sitting on the side of the bed he stared at the ceiling. Angela then saw a large scrape on the side of Johns head. Dried blood was showered over the side over his face and he looked ruff.

Angela got up and got a rag and watered it with warm water. Getting back on the bed, she slowly dabbed at the cut. " Ow" John mumbled, refusing to flinch. Angela continued to clean him his cuts up and stayed quiet. After she was done she lay back on her back and stared up at the ceiling too. Angelina was curled up between them sleeping. Duck curled up by a vent. Awkward silence passed between John and Angela. Finally John couldn't take it anymore.

" Didn't know you had THAT many scars". Angela's face paled slightly. John took a peek at her through the corner of his eye. Angela had looked away for a moment, almost looking as though she was in thought. " Well that's what you get when you're a cop," then she added silently " or Shit-ass foster parents or fathers" she winced at the memories and sat up on the edge of the bed. John burned holes into her back with his eyes, wanting her to turn around and talk about it. Swallowing his pride forcefully, he reached out a hand and touched her back.

Angela gasped when she felt warmth on her cold back and shuddered when John began to rub an old scar. White streaks where etched across Angela's back in all directions. Slowly tracing a finger over one of the larger scars, John sighed. Angela turned to look at him. Eyes full of concern, John enveloped Angela into his rough but warm embrace. Angela nearly melted and started to cherish the moment. May be the last time he would be open.

" You're such an idiot." John said, trying not to sound mean. Angela looked up at him, eyes full of question, " What?" John chuckled. " You're an idiot because you never seemed to talk it out before. Always keeping things inside, blaming your sisters death on your self. And you never ask for anything. Would it kill you to complain once and a while?" Angela had suddenly become interested in John's tie. Looking back up at him she removed herself. " Sorry, I've just been stressed lately. Maybe I just…" she yawned slightly. John smirked at her stupid ness and covered in the bed sheets. Placing Angelina in her arms, he soon too fell asleep.

Dreamless to be exact.

Angela woke to find herself in a black room. She didn't even know if it was a room. The air smelled of sulfur and something else….something she couldn't place. Shaking her head she tried to walk. Her legs felt heavy and no matter how much she tried she still didn't budge. Suddenly feeing something wet drop onto her nose she looked up. More droplets. She moved a hand up to her face and wiped it away. Straining her eyes to see, she could only make out redness. It was dark and sticky and slipped through her fingers. More dripped on her head. Feeling slightly terrified she tried to move again. Nothing.

"Angela"

She heard an icy voice beckoning her to the side of the room. Angela then felt a jerk and she was in an old bathroom. It wasn't Johns but certainly a mans.

"Angela"

There it was again. Except it was louder and scarier. Looking over at the bathtub she felt a scream erupt from her throat. The body was covered in a veil but that didn't hide the massacre. Needles, millions of them, were pinned in the persons head. Blood seeped through the cloth were the head was at. The water was filled with crimson blood and an butcher knife and barbed wire was stabbed through the person.

Angela turned to run but saw her reflection in the mirror. She was covered in blood from head to foot. She looked like Carrie from the old horror movie. Screaming again she felt herself fall again and a sharp pain through her stomach.

" AAA"

Angela sat bolt upright in bed and screamed

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