"Hi, ma'am," Chas greeted the woman as cheerfully as he could from under John's weight, trying to nudge him into getting off of him. "John, you're scaring the nice lady, get off," he mumbled. "And you're kinda scaring me, too."

"Distraction," John hissed, his mouth only inches away from Chas' ear, he breathed down on him, sending a sensation through Chas' body. John took in Chas' scent one last time and then jumped to his feet to straighten his tie.
Chas rolled to his side and pushed himself up. 'Did he just sniff me? Whatever.' He shrugged it off as he reached to the floor to grab his hat, skillfully he placed it atop his curly head and smirked, letting everybody know that 'This is Chas.'

The woman was a petite, 40-something figure with dark hair and dressed in rather formal clothes. She was very shaken up. If she'd tremble any more her clothes would fall off. She cleared her throat. "You're the exorcist? Constantine?"

"Yeah," he answered terse, forgetting his manners and his thoughts still on Chas' lips. "And you're Mrs. Walker," he uttered after his senses returned to him. "Where's the asshole?"

At first the woman didn't quite understand. Her son's an asshole?

"The asshole inside your son, Mrs. Walker," John insisted as if reading her thoughts.

She nodded, wringing her hands. "Upstairs, first room to your right," the woman stuttered and started to follow John to the stairs as soon as he headed in that direction. John stopped in his tracks and looked at Chas.

"Chas, keep her away," he ordered and pushed the woman back to the front door where Chas stood motionless. "Please."

"Sure thing, John," he smiled and led the woman outside, happy to be of some help. Not what he had hoped for, he'd rather be at John's side, but at least he could do something besides waiting in the cab that helped John.
'He said 'please.' That's about just as weird as the thought of John eating delicious kiwis, or chocolate, or.. anything, really. Maybe John has funny tingly feelings.' Chas snickered, realizing just how ridiculous the words 'tingly' and 'John' sounded in one sentence.

Chas came back to earth, appreciating the fact that John trusted him to take care of the woman while he was burning funny things in her son's forehead. Feeling quite accomplished, Chas walked her to the car and was about to open the door for her so she could sit there for a while, but his hand stopped moving as his thoughts trailed off to John.
Mrs. Walker seemed to be verging on hysteria and Chas was having difficulty with keeping her and his thoughts quiet. He simply couldn't stand it anymore after 3 more minutes, by now his thoughts were involving a shit load of John and his tongue and Chas didn't know what to think of everything combined. At the same time he tried to shush the woman who just didn't shut up.

"Is my son going to be okay?" Mrs. Walker shrieked, latching her hands onto the collar of Chas' jacket a little more desperate than he cared to deal with, forcing him to look her in the eye. "Will he live?"

Chas stuttered for a few moments but stood motionless while the woman practically had her nose pressed against his.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Mrs. Walker," he tried to stay polite and understanding but his absentminded appearance only made the woman to jerk his jacket harder, trying to get through to the curly boy. "Listen, lady, he'll be fine, just let go of my jacket," Chas snarled and the woman lurched him harder, Chas could've sworn he heard a few seems snap, but he wasn't sure, it could have been his patience. "A ripped jacket is bad luck."

He tried to peel her fingers off, gently at first, because he figured it was just a fragile little woman, but her grip didn't budge. "Don't make me pull your hair, woman," Chas threatened and after a moment her grip loosened. He grabbed her by the wrists and pushed the tensed up arms back to where they belonged. He leaped a few feet away from her as though he was thrown back and calmly adjusted his jacket.

The woman, however, did not stop her whining and it was really starting to annoy him to try to think while some lady yammered all the way through his thoughts. He sighed and finally managed to open the door to the back seat for her. "Sit on your ass and shush," he scowled.
When she didn't do either of those, he roughly shoved her in the cab, locked all the doors and walked across the street back to the house without paying any attention to her yelling. He sat down on the porch, putting his head in his hands, trying to think but the screams that came from upstairs and the muffled cursing emerging from the cab across the street were too overpowering.
Chas could really use something to do right about now, something to occupy his mind with other than thoughts.

"Chas!" John roared out the window, to Chas it was the voice of an angel answering his prayers. "Get up here!"

He didn't hesitate and stormed inside, almost losing his footing when his foot connected with the doormat, but he kept his balance to prevent himself from falling on his face. He ran up the stairs, remembering the words 'first room to your right' and took a left, opposite the room John was in.

"Over here, Chas!"

Chas spun around. It had been a very confusing day thus far and the logic of 'left' not being a 'right' had momentarily abandoned him. "Right, sorry!" he shouted out and ran into the room where John and the asshole-possessed-son were in. "You yelled, John?" he said under his breath, trying to catch any.

"Hold his head."

As Chas rushed over he noticed that the kid John was struggling with couldn't have been older than 13 and was putting up quite a fight while strapped to his bed, looking veined and just downright ugly. Chas took his position and hovered over the head of the bed, opposite John who straddled the kid. "Is this normal?" Chas wondered as he kept a firm grip on the kid's head and observed his condition.

John didn't respond, he tried to block out Chas as he spoke Latin words, burning a cross into the possessed kid's forehead. John's eyes were closed.
Chas' eyes were locked on John, it was kinda sexy to see him working like that, the intense expression on his face, the sweaty forehead and tensed up muscles, though it didn't quite look like passion or dedication, more like highly concentrated frustration.

Suddenly one hand of the kid broke free of the restraints and got a hold of Chas' throat, trying to choke him. 'Great job occupying your mind, Chas.'
He tried to shout out to John, who still had his eyes closed and failed to pick up on the change, and Chas could only make a gargling sound. He hoped that John would hear the difference between his friend being choked and a hoarse demon screaming all sorts of things. But the bellowing of the demon must've been too overwhelming. 'John, just because I wasn't paying attention, doesn't mean you can't look up for a second. John, come on, I'm kinda hurting over here!'
With one hand Chas tried to hold the kid's head steady and with the other he tried to free himself of the firm grip around his throat. Neither of these circumstances could be dealt with with just one hand. Chas could imagine John telling him 'Think fast, kid. You're no use when you're dead.'

Chas took one hand off the insubordinate head and tried to release himself from the pressing on his throat with both his hands. When that wasn't successful and John was still murmuring Latin with his damn eyes closed, Chas reached for John's shoulder with the little strength he had left.
Just when his hand was only inches away from John's shoulder, the hand on his throat went limp. John had done his job right, the demon was exorcised and Chas was saved by pure luck. Chas backed away in relief and cowered against the wall, gasping for air.

"Jesus, Chas," John complained at the sight of his apprentice trying to get his breathing steady, paying no attention to the kid on the bed. "You could've said something!" John was almost in panic.

"How would you know, John, you had your fucking eyes closed," Chas shot back weakly and got on his feet. "Is the kid okay?" he asked, pointing at the boy on the bed.

"He'll live," John said and stepped off the bed to approach Chas, carefully. "Are you all right?"

Chas touched his bruised throat. "Well, I'm still the proud owner of my head, aren't I?" he flared and watched John roll his eyes. "I'm fine, John." Chas turned away and left the room.

John followed him out at a quick pace, crowding Chas for the first time in, ever. "Where's the mother?"

"I locked her in the cab, John," he sighed as they descended the stairs.

John frowned. "Why?"

"She didn't shut up," Chas answered agitated, he refrained from raising his voice. Why couldn't John shut up? He never talked this much before. John didn't ask questions and didn't follow people around unless they needed a good getting killed. Any closer and John would step on his heel that could lead them to stumble down the stairs together and end up at the front door again the way they came in.
Chas could still taste John, scotch and nicotine, he figured he probably even smelled like John too. 'Sniff your clothes later, Chas, when John isn't breathing down your neck.'
He didn't know whether he should be angry, pleased or relieved. John let him help, he almost got himself killed, but he didn't get killed, he got to shove his tongue down John's throat, touched his awesome hair and he didn't get killed. Chas was frustrated and confused.

John wanted to ask what was up with Chas' unusual bad vibes and lack of nonstop talking, he wasn't used to Chas being distant and annoyed, sure, Chas would get annoyed with John ever and anon, but John sensed that Chas tried very hard not to turn around and throttle him.
But the answers were right in front of John, Chas was almost done in by a possessed 13 year old, John had his eyes closed. And of course the fact that they were launched into a home in the middle of their make-out session could have had something to do with it too. That didn't exactly leave John indifferent either. If John didn't know any better he could've sworn he had licorice. John suppressed a chuckle.

When they reached the cab, Chas unlocked the doors to let the woman out of the vehicle, he actually told her to "Get the fuck out," and grabbed her arm to launch her onto the street when she didn't get out right away. He paid no attention to the startled woman who just barely managed to keep herself from falling on all fours, nor did he take note of the dumbfounded expression on John's face as he walked around the cab to open the door and got behind the wheel.

John was half expecting him to take off with screeching tires, he seemed upset enough for it, but Chas didn't go anywhere. Through the side window John could see Chas put his hands on the steering wheel and lay his head on them. Was he crying? Exhausted? Nauseated? Feeling like shit, no doubt.
John looked around him and noticed that the woman was still standing beside him, he wrinkled his nose. Before opening his mouth, he opened the door to the car. "Get in the house and untie that lunatic son of yours," was all he said and slid in the back of the cab, closing the door without waiting for a response.

Chas straightened. Seemingly calmer now. "I kinda need a drink, John."

"Me too, kid," John murmured as he was feeling around in his pocket for his smokes and lighter. Before lighting it, he looked up and noticed Chas had already turned around and was staring at John with a mix of expectation, relief and admiration in his eyes. "You scared me half to death," John let out with a cigarette between his lips. He lit his cigarette when a feeling of guilt overwhelmed him.

"John?"

"Yeah."

"Which way to the drinks?"

"My place," John said with a resolved face.

Upon that note, Chas started the car and drove off. "Your place has drinks, John? Who'd have thought." He had somewhat gathered his wits and they grew nervous.

'John's place. Drinks. John hair. Drinks. John lips.' It echoed through his head. He wasn't sure if the recent events mixed with drinks would have a constrained outcome. Chas wanted to ask what would happen with the drinks at John's place but words got caught in his throat, 'Are we gonna make out some more?' The words were just very badly chosen anyway.

Chas cast a look in the mirror where he caught John's reflection. 'He's looking kinda stoic. How can he do that at a time like this? Why can't I do that?' It only got more confusing. Chas locked his eyes on the road again and tried to give it a rest, it was simply unnerving. He was feeling around for his licorice where he'd usually put it, desperately craving for some. "John," he started with suspicion upon not finding anything. "You don't happen to know where my licorice went, do you?"

"Meaning?" John wanted to know, still seeming stoic in a Clint Eastwood kind of way.

He scowled. "Did you eat them? Don't make me pull over."

"Chas, the only moment I got something remotely close to licorice in my mouth, was when you put your tongue in there," John said almost unfeeling, but the somewhat off-balanced grin gave his amusement away, it was kind of devious. John barely made an attempt to hide it.

Chas opened his mouth to say something, closed it again and started over.

"John," he finally started and glared at Constantine in his mirror. "You almost ate me when I put my tongue in there, you don't need the candy anymore. Hand it over."

"I didn't take your damn candy. Now relax, kid."

"Relax," Chas muttered. "I'll relax when I get that damn drink."

Chas pulled the car over when they had reached John's building, during the rest of the ride no words were exchanged. John had opened the door almost before the car even came to a halt and was the first to get out. John lit a cigarette as he waited for Chas to get out of the car, but it seemed to take the kid forever.
John tapped on the side window, "You coming, or what?"

It was as though Chas was stapled to his seat, he desperately wanted to get out of the car but his feet wouldn't do what his brain told them to do. 'Move it, feet.' Chas wanted a drink very badly, he could cry right about now. 'Get out of the car, get out of the car.'

John opened the door to the passenger seat and glanced at Chas. "I can't move, John," he finally said as his eyes met John's, begging the man to help him out of the car but without the words.

He looked so helpless that John had to try hard not to laugh. Chas saw that. "Sure, laugh it up, John. I'm glad you're..- " John shut the door and didn't hear the rest of Chas' sentence. He walked around the car and opened the door on Chas' side.
John gave him an incredulous look and then he leaned in with the intent to unbuckle the seat belt, wriggling his way between Chas and the wheel. While doing so he could feel Chas' breath on the side of his face. The breathing was unsteady.

Chas swallowed hard. 'This is fuckin' ridiculous. No, this is scary. I need a drink and a cookie,' he thought while John's hand motioned to Chas' waist, carefully reaching for the lock. Chas froze, this was far more worse than not being able to move.

"I know how to work a seat belt myself, you asswipe," he managed to blurt out just when John freed him from the belt, withdrawing his hand.

John turned his head and looked at Chas, their noses almost connected. "I thought you said you couldn't move," he said gently with a grin that was barely detectable.

"That's right," Chas confirmed, he felt like such a birdbrain for needing John to help him out of his seat belt. "And the problem didn't really go away with the seat belt gone now."

John straightened and got himself out of the car, hoping that Chas would do the same, regardless of what he said. But he didn't. "Then what the fuck's the problem?"

Chas glared at him. He hoped he didn't have to spell out it for John. He didn't even know how to spell it out or exactly what. Too many thoughts were going through his head.

Constantine sighed and looked at him. 'The kid's nervous.' John found a lot of questions raving through the bright eyes. He didn't have the answers, he just wanted a drink and for the kid to stop being so damn twitchy. "Fine, I get it. But you're gonna have to move sooner or later. If I have to carry you, you might loose consciousness completely," he tried for levity.

'Great, because I didn't look like a meek schoolgirl enough already.' Chas threw his head back and sighed. "John, could you bring me a drink?" he begged. Chas could probably move if he wanted to, but it was too scary and he was trembling more than he cared to admit. He needed a little nudge from courage in a bottle.

John quirked an eyebrow. "I don't see how that would help you getting on your feet."

This had taken long enough. Chas wanted to get the hell out of the car and booze it up, he could feel his legs, so in theory they should do their job right. 'Cowboy the fuck up, Chas. Does John look like he's expecting anything? Not particularly. He's being strangely patient, though. Get out of the car and have a civilized drink with the man.' Chas snorted, John and civilized, that'll be the day.
Determined, he swung his legs outside, that was a good sign, and he reached his arms out to John, suggesting to help him up. The worst thing that could happen then was that he would fall into John if he lost his balance, but that was always better than falling on his face at John's shoes.
Instead of taking the boy's hands, he grabbed Chas by the shoulders and hauled him to his feet, not letting go right away in case he would fall over.

"That went well," Chas smirked, not quite feeling like himself yet, but he tried very hard.

"I'm gonna count to 3 and then I'll let go," John warned, a little worried about what could happen if he did.

He shook his head. "John, don't be such a loser," Chas smirked and stepped away from under John's grip to prove he was fine. "See? All set to get wasted."

Chas spun around, ready to plunder John's scotch and keeled over even before he could take a step. A painful grunt escaped him, his arms were mostly hurt from trying to keep his body from the impact, but other than that he was surprisingly fine, his head even managed to refrain from hitting the street. But Chas couldn't be bothered to move, it just made him very tired and fed up.
'Almost getting choked, not being able to move and then to be able to move only to fall over right in front of John, just too many humiliations and pain to fit in a day.'
Chas relaxed all the muscles in his body and just lay there on the street next to the cab. He closed his eyes, calmly breathing in and out and just enjoying this moderately peaceful moment.

"Chas? What happened?" John finally asked upon not seeing the boy move. He kneeled down next to him, carefully placing his hand on Chas' shoulder.

"You're gonna laugh if I tell you, John," he murmured.

"Not likely."

Chas hesitated for a moment. "I tripped over my shoelace."

John didn't laugh. He grinned a little, but Chas couldn't see that with his eyes closed. "Well, can you move?" he asked after struggling with himself for a moment to not let his grin resound in his voice.

"Yeah," Chas sighed. "But I don't wanna."

Constantine couldn't bother to argue, the little patience that he had was completely spent and he clenched his hands around Chas' arms and hauled him up. The boy yelped in pain. "I said I could move, John, not that I wasn't in any pain!"

"I need a drink," John said flatly, letting go of him and stalked towards the building. Chas was right behind him, happy that he could walk towards that drink without tripping over his own feet.

"You got any cookies?" Chas wanted to know, rubbing his sore arms in turn.

John wrinkled his nose. "I thought you wanted a drink."

"Yeah, but cookies are comforting, too. I can have both," Chas looked at John's profile while they kept on walking. By the look on John's face he gathered cookies were an unknown phenomenon to the man. "You never had a single cookie in your entire life, have you, John?"

"Chas, knock it off." He quickened his pace.

"Knock off, what? What am I doing?" Chas tried to keep up.

"Breaking the silence," John mumbled, lighting a cigarette as they entered the building.

"Wait, isn't that a good thing? Is it working? Why are we in such a hurry? John, could you talk to me, please, you're driving me fucking nuts."

John kept on walking and took a long drag from his cigarette instead. Chas followed him and staid quiet until they got to John's apartment. John unlocked the door, nudged Chas inside and followed him in, closing the door behind him.