AN: You know... this honestly really confuses me. Not the story, it's not confusing and I'm not overly pleased with it. It's just that this whole thing is really random tehe. I haven't written fan fiction in ages, but this just struck me at like three in the morning so I wrote it. It seems somewhat out of character but I'll post it anyways out of my love for this movie. Though it may be construed as hatred... but don't take it that way! Please? XD So as always, reviews welcome of all types, and I guess just enjoy this random one shot -
Disclaimer: All friendly, not meant to be slash but you can take it as whatever you want. Oh yah, and I own nothing but this story, don't steal please, at least without asking.
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Chas Kramer was sick and it was unbelievably awkward for John Constantine.
Not the kind of uncomfortable awkward that generally tends to accompany, let's say, a normal teenager's years in high school. Of course, John could never use himself to describe anything after his... unconventional childhood... teenage years... and continued adulthood. No, this was the type of awkward that didn't usually grace Constantine with its presence. It was the kind of awkward resulting from nervousness, the paranoid worry that spreads and consumes all thoughts. The kind of awkward that could actually unnerve a man who fought demons. That kind of awkward.
And it was very unsettling.
It was all the dumb kid's fault anyways. John had no reason to feel guilty, but if something was wrong with Chas the guilt had a tendency of making itself quite at home anyways.
Another tough night at home. More not-so-secret bruises lacing his fragile skin resulting from his father's preferred drink after a hard day, not to mention his habit of being a smart ass. More of the duo's combined luck continued with the cab being under 'routine maintenance' from another one of their escapades. More unintelligent decisions as Chas left into the rain, wiping angrily at a bloodied lip and holding back more tears. Pushing down the pain, anger, loneliness and emptiness. Just like his role model. Shivering miserably and wandering aimlessly, drowning in rain and self pity, he decided to make his way to his mentor's apartment, hoping that the insomniac was still awake.
And of course he was.
Staring confused at the half emptied bottle of whiskey on the table, John Constantine contemplated whether the knock he heard was coming from the door, a demon, or simply a drunken delusion. Pulling himself ungracefully up and stumbling to the door, he tried the first guess and was right, being unceremoniously greeted by the image of his apprentice; soaked and shivering, awkward and surprisingly a twinge of nervousness. Staring awkwardly for a moment, the alcohol's buzz started to slowly drift away in reaction to a very unfamiliar feeling of worry. Wordlessly, the taller man stepped to the side holding open the door waiting for Chas to get it and come inside.
And he did, shuffling in also without a word.
Staring for a moment in thoughtful confusion at the soaked boy—"He's still just a kid..." John pondered in his head, never actually realizing how innocent his apprentice was until times such as these. Then the thoughts made themselves sparse, and he'd forget again till the next time it happened and it always seemed to surprise him.—and murmured a quick uncatchable phrase and disappeared, returning moments later with a spare change of clothes. "Here." Was all the darker man mumbled as he handed over the clothes and allowed Chas' to wander off to change. As he padded back from the bathroom pulling the shirt over his head, he realized the bruises were exposed and quickly pulled it the rest of the way down wondering if John saw.
And he almost always did, not excluding this time.
But he would never speak of it; never mention it; but still the sudden anger always startled his usually apathetic state of mind. He'd ask, "You ok?" but that was it, and the answer was always a yes, a protective joke, more aversion of eye contact and John would go off to his own room and find Chas gone in the morning. It was the same as usual, Chas' got on the couch covering up the blanket that was unspokenly his and Constantine started over to the light. But with a last glance, Constantine noticed Chas' was still shivering and quite noticeably from half a room away. Clicking off the light, leaving a small table lamp on he wandered away to find another blanket which was a rather difficult quest in the bachelor's home. Giving up and just pulling the comforter from his own bed, he tossed the blanket over the kid's still shivering form.
And that's where John Constantine is now.
Placing a hand over Chas' pale skin, warmth radiated off despite his still frigid shivering, and a lingering form of actual fear was present in the mind of the exorcist. Moaning weakly as the kid restlessly turned to the touch, the feelings of protectiveness grew within Constantine. Sitting at the end of the sofa, he lost himself in actual emotions, and surprised himself by running his hand caringly through Chas Kramer's curly brown locks. He was more than an apprentice. He was a friend. A son. Someone that brought meaning to the man's usual empty shell.
And through the worry, John Constantine smiled.