It's starting to get dark.

We've had almost half of our twenty-four hour truce already, and we're no closer to finding a way out. In about twelve hours and forty five minutes…

…Something's going to happen.

We don't know what. Will they send out the invisible assassins? The police? Will they cast some sort of spell? Not knowing is awful. They're powerful. They're devious. They can probably get their hands on government resources or demonic power with a mere click of their fingers…

… And I almost wish they'd just get on with it. Just about anything would be better than just sitting here worrying, listening to the whinging and the bickering and the speculations. After a while, I just couldn't cope with people anymore. I walked out. Now I'm lying on Giles' bed, staring at the ceiling. I can still hear the arguing downstairs, and I've just about memorised the pattern of cracks on Giles' bedroom walls. I'm so tense, I can tell if this drags out much longer I'm going to do something stupid. What exactly, I don't know. Maybe I'll walk out into the waiting claws of our invisible friends. Maybe I'll punch Ethan so hard I break his jaw.

I guess that's the point, really. It almost like a form of psychological torture. They hope that if they leave me here to stew long enough, eventually I'll get so jumpy that I'll just hand myself in just to get the waiting over and done with.

I never was the patient type.

After a while, there's a slightly tentative knock on the bedroom door. I sigh loudly, and roll over, hunching my back against the door.

'John, are you all right?' Giles calls softly.

'Never been better,' I answer sarcastically. I hate that question. People only ever ask it when you're clearly not all right.

Giles comes in and sits down on the bed. I close my eyes. Whatever it is he has to say, I'm sure I don't want to hear it.

But he doesn't say anything. He sits there in silence. After a while, I sigh and look up at him. He's worried.

'I'm alright, I suppose,' I say eventually. 'I'm not about to drop down dead right this minute, anyway.' I force a smile. 'Are you all right?' I ask, slightly hypocritically. Giles looks almost as tense as I feel. I can't tell whether he's afraid or angry. I don't think he can, either.

'Yeah, I'm fine, John,' he says. 'Although, I think I'm going to murder Ethan,' he adds after a moment's consideration.

'Oh good. Can I join in?'

We both laugh, slightly strained, nervous laughter, but it still releases some of the tension.

Even if only momentarily. Suddenly, the faint sounds of bickering from downstairs have been replaced by confused shouting and the sound of shattering glass. I freeze. The commotion sounds like… fighting.

Me and Giles look at each other nervously, and then he bolts from the room.

'Is everything all right?' he calls. That bloody question again! Despite everything, I could almost laugh.

There's a loud crash from downstairs, and suddenly fear courses through me. I jump to my feet. These aren't just the sounds of an argument that's got out of hand.

Someone's screaming.

Bastards! They said they'd give us twenty four-hours. I should have known they were lying.

And I don't know what to do. Just for a moment, self-preservation takes over and I hang back, because above all else, I don't want to be caught. It's not cowardice that I can't bear to face an eternity in hell. It's just common sense.

But a strangled yell from Giles quickly makes up my mind. I run down the stairs two at a time…

I'm too late.

The door is open, broken off its hinges and hanging crazily. The table's been upturned; books and broken glasses litter the floor.

The Slayer and Ethan are nowhere to be seen. Xander's missing too. Willow's kneeling in the doorway. She looks up at me anxiously.

'Are you all right?' I ask.

'I'm fine. But… Giles…' she says.

Giles is unconscious, slumped against the broken doorframe, one arm thrown up as if to protect his face, the other twisted beneath him.

A hundred thoughts whirl around my mind. I don't understand what's happened… we must have… misunderstood… or, or something… It looks like no one was out to get me after all… It was Ethan they wanted all along, or maybe the Slayer, or… I don't understand… and I don't have time to work it out now…

I kneel down beside Giles, and touch his shoulder gingerly. He stirs and groans.

'Giles?' I say gently.

His eyes snap open and fix on my face.

'John. You're all right…' he says, his voice tinged with both pain and relief.

It's a long time since I last felt quite so guilty.

I get my arm around his shoulders and help him to sit. He closes his eyes and leans his head against my shoulder, his face white with pain. I think his arm's broken.

'I'm sorry,' I say softly. He shakes his head weakly, and then winces.

'Where's Buffy?' I ask Willow.

'I'm here,' the Slayer says quietly, walking slowly in through the ruined doorway. 'It's no good. They've gone…'

Willow rushes over and embraces her. Briefly, Buffy buries her face in her friend's shoulder, and then she comes over and kneels by me and Giles.

'Is he ok?' she asks.

'I think his arm's broken.' I say.

'I'm all right,' Giles insists faintly.

'I can't find Xander,' Buffy says after a moment, almost inaudibly. Then she frowns angrily. 'I don't know how you ever could have trusted him!' she says accusingly.

'Trusted Xander?' I blurt out, confused.

'Trusted Ethan!' she snaps.

'I didn't! I don't! I've never bloody have!' I say. I'm really not thinking straight.

Buffy scowls, and looks like she's about to say something, but I interrupt her. Giles is gripping my arm hard, and I can tell he's in pain.

'We need to talk,' I say urgently, 'But I think we'd better get Giles to a hospital first.'

Giles shakes his head, although he doesn't lessen his grip on my arm, and his voice is full of pain.

'Buffy… what's happened to Xander?' he says dimly.

The Slayer's face falls, and she shakes her head.

'He's gone,' she says wretchedly.

'Gone?' I echo stupidly. Buffy glares at me angrily.

'Buffy, he didn't see what happened…' Willow reminds her anxiously. Buffy draws a deep breath.

'Ethan took him,' she says flatly.

Ethan took him…

I was right not to trust that bastard all along.

Oh god, I'm such an idiot. I knew. All this time I knew, or at least I suspected, and I didn't say anything.

I never told Giles about that phone call. I was never sure that it had actually happened…

But I knew Ethan was an untrustworthy bastard.

It's all my fault. I should have… should have said something. Should have warned Giles. Should have confronted Ethan. Should have done something…

If he hurts that boy… I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive myself…

He'd been after the Slayer, really. He'd grabbed Buffy's arm, and twisted it up behind her. She'd been so bemused she hadn't even bothered reacting. In fact, at the time, I think she found it funny.

Then Ethan looked anxiously at Willow and Xander, and muttered something about informing Giles. Nervously- very nervously- he'd told Buffy that if she came with him quietly, no one would get hurt. Predictably, she'd laughed at him. Also predictably, she'd broken easily out of his grip. He'd sworn, grabbed her top, tried to drag her after him. She'd punched him, in the face, hard- I have to admit, I smiled when I found that out- and then he'd grabbed her hair. She'd kicked the table over struggling to get free of him a second time. That was the crash that had sent Giles running down the stairs.

At the sight of Giles, he'd given up all hope of dragging off the Slayer. He'd made a dash for the door, lashing out at Willow, and then grabbing Xander on the way out, almost as an afterthought. He'd used magic to bar the door behind him, locking Buffy and Giles in. It had been Buffy who'd broken the door off its hinges, trying to force her way out. Once she'd got the door down, she'd chased after Ethan and Xander. Giles had followed after her, furiously angry.

But as soon as Giles had left the house, something had slammed into him. Invisible hands had punched him and beaten him, and finally thrown him through the air, to land unconscious, slumped against the doorframe, one arm twisted and broken beneath him…

Buffy and Willow tell me the story on the way to the hospital. Thankfully, the invisible assassins didn't interfere with us leaving the house. I'm driving Giles' car. He's in the back with Buffy, and I think he might have passed out again…

A while ago, I said that anything would be better than sitting there and going slowly insane waiting for the council to make their move. I was lying. The waiting was the easy part.

All I can think is if Ethan harms that boy in any way… the blood will be on my hands. And I'll have let Giles down again.

We get back at gone midnight. Giles collapses onto the sofa. He looks awful. His arm is bandaged up, his face is pale, and his mouth is set tight with pain.

But the worst thing is, he looks… guilty.

'I'm sorry, Buffy,' he says miserably, touching the slayer's arm. 'I should never have trusted him. Not again. Not after last time.'

'It's alright,' Buffy says, clearly holding her anger in check. 'You couldn't have known.'

In a sudden show of affection that almost shocks me, they throw their arms around each other. The slayer leans her head against Giles' shoulder, and he strokes her hair with one hand.

'We'll get him back,' he promises.

'Yeah, Buffy,' Willow says with a slightly nervous stutter. 'Xander'll be fine.'

'I know,' the slayer whispers. 'I know, it's just...' She breaks off, and her face hardens. 'Giles, they were after me. There has to be something I can do…'

Looks like the slayer's suffering from a healthy dose of guilt, too. Well that makes three of us. Buffy wishes she'd saved Xander. Giles wishes he'd never trusted Ethan. And me… I wish I'd never come to Sunnydale. I was a fool. I've caused nothing but misery to those who were trying to help me… again.

If the boy dies, he'll be coming back to haunt me.

'I'll go after him,' I reassure Giles. But his eyes widen in horror.

'Constantine, no! You don't want to fall into their hands.'

'Giles, I don't think they were ever after me! I think it was the slayer they wanted all along. And… and even if I'm wrong… Buffy's right. We can't just sit here. I'm going to go after him.'

'Constantine, I don't think you should do anything unreasonable,' Buffy says calmly. 'I've fought Ethan before. Xander's my best friend. We can't afford to do anything stupid.'

Giles nods in agreement.

'Buffy's right, John. Try not to be impatient…'

'I'm going after them,' Buffy interrupts loudly. Giles stares at her in dismay.

'Buffy, no!' he says urgently. 'Please. The pair of you… just calm down. We don't know what we're dealing with.' His voice is tight with pain and frustration.

'All I know is that they've got Xander,' Buffy says. 'But that's enough!'

'Buffy, you don't even know who they are, or what they want, or even where they've taken him!' Giles says.

'I can find out,' Buffy says, determinedly.

'We could research…' Willow says timidly. I sigh, and Buffy scowls.

'There isn't time! Look, for all we know, Ethan's turned him into a demon already…'

The phone rings, and we all jump. Giles doesn't answer it straight away.

'Promise me you won't do anything rash,' he says, looking Buffy straight in the eye. Then his gaze shifts up to include me. 'Both of you. Promise you won't go after him.'

We glance at each other. The phone shrills a second time. Buffy looks away and stares at the floor, and I nod slowly.

'I promise,' I say sincerely.

'Me too,' Buffy murmurs. Giles nods, and turns to answer the phone.

He listens in shocked silence for a moment, gradually turning even paler than before, although I wouldn't have thought it possible.

'Giles?'

'What is it? Is it Ethan?'

Giles doesn't answer. His hand is shaking. Wordlessly, he hands the phone over to me.

'Your time's up, Constantine,' the voice at the other end says. A clipped, English voice, a voice that I was sincerely hoping never to hear again.

I almost drop the phone.

'What! But I… I thought…'

'You thought wrong.'

'I don't understand! Ethan… Xander…'

'Constantine, you're babbling,' Quentin says. He sounds bored.

'That wasn't twenty-four hours!' I say desperately. I almost hear his shrug of dismissal.

'We got tired of waiting,' he says, simply. 'We're coming for you…'

I slam the phone down, angry and afraid, and then I swear, realising that it was a mistake. I should have pumped him for all the information I could... but I'm not thinking straight.

'Constantine?' Buffy says, almost gently.

'They're coming for me,' I say dully.

'It's all right, John,' Giles says. I shake my head.

'I can't stay here. I'm sorry, I thought… but… I'm sorry.'

'John…' Giles says, reaching out to touch my shoulder.

'No!' I say forcefully, shaking his hand away. 'Giles, I can't stay. I can't do it. I thought I could let you risk yourself for me, I thought I could use you the way I've used all my other friends… but… somehow… I can't. I'm leaving. Don't come after me. I've hurt you enough as it is…'

'John, you can't! The assassins…' Giles says desperately, but I break him off.

'The assassins won't touch me. I think… I bloody hope… that they need me alive. If not…' I take a deep breath and shrug, trying but failing to feign nonchalance '…what the hell, it's only dying a bit sooner anyway. I know they'll get me eventually. I think I've known it all along. And I can't drag you down with me.'

I turn to Buffy.

'You asked me when we first met if you could trust me. I couldn't answer you…'

She doesn't let me finish.

'I do trust you,' she says, looking me straight in the eyes.

'Thank you,' I whisper.

I grip Giles' shoulder, hesitate for a moment, and then embrace him. Briefly, he leans his head against my shoulder, and then I pull away, swirl my trench-coat around my shoulders, and disappear into the night.

They're coming to get me.

I may only have a few hours left to live. But it's all right; because there's only one thing left I have to do.

Find Ethan.

I don't know what it is he wants with the Slayer anymore. It may be just some petty grudge, like the one he holds for me. But even so… if Xander suffers, if he's hurt, if he dies, the blood will be on my hands. Even if I'm dead.

So I'm going after him. With a little bit of Constantine-speciality sheer dumb luck, I should have time to rescue him before they come for me.

I'm in over my head.

I'm going to die.

But this time, none of my friends will have to suffer. This time, I did the right thing, and no one will be dragged down with me.

And somehow, it doesn't matter anymore.

Coalitions