Author's Note: Still very little interest seems to be being shown to this story. I don't know what to do... I don't know if I'm going to keep updating it. Hmm. Please leave a review for this chapter, if you read it, just so that I can get an idea.
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Tidying his room had been Chas' idea. Chas had said it would help get his life in order. It seemed like quite an interesting idea to John, but now he was doing it, he was starting to regret agreeing to it.
The late afternoon sun fell on a cardboard box in his arms. He recognised it instantly, though it had been stashed under his bed for many years.
John knew it was full of pictures he had drawn in Ravenscar.
He swallowed. He was confused enough already without going through this.
"No," he growled, pushing it back under his bed.
Stupid Chas. What did he know?
John cradled his head in his hands, sitting on the edge of his bed. His head was spinning, fighting back the memories of Ravenscar which threatened to overwhelm him.
"John, why have you stopped?" Chas appeared in the doorway.
John glared at him.
"What happened?" Chas asked, his voice suddenly soft, as though he could see the pain John was feeling. "John?"
"Nothing." John sighed. "Well... I found a box... Ravenscar..."
Chas walked over to him quickly, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry, John, I forgot."
"It's alright," John shrugged, comforted at the feel of Chas' hand on his shoulder. "I have to face it sometime."
Chas knelt down beside him, unnervingly close. Without speaking, he took John's hands, pushing his shirt sleeves up slowly. John stared, transfixed, as Chas revealed the scars on his wrists. Tears filled the angel's eyes, dropping down onto the scars. John's wrists tingled, and as he stared the scars faded, finally disappearing.
"Chas..." he breathed.
Chas smiled sadly. "Don't mention it."