Part IV: Whipped

Angela breezed into the precinct that day, and Chief Marsden smiled and commented on how much a good night's sleep had obviously done her. She nodded it off, seating herself at her desk somewhat awkwardly—did nobody think she hadn't noticed them sneaking surreptitious glances at her and wondering if she was okay since her sister's death. Marsden was overly sympathetic, always insisting she take off as much time as she needed to mourn Isobel's passing, despite that she maintained that she was perfectly capable of doing her job, and needed no more vacation time. And, she really didn't. Isobel was in Heaven, now, and there was nothing to mourn. Angela smiled to herself, tugging her white shirt down at the hem—remembering how she'd had to tiptoe through her chaotic bedroom to dress herself. She reminded herself to ask John exactly what he'd been doing in there—what he'd been talking about when he meant 'demons'. Mammon was back in Hell, and without that power, no demons could cross the planes…correct? Angela definitely smelt something fishy there, but even the prospect of evil demons from Hell couldn't ruin her mood.

The three occupants of the taxicab sat in rigid silence, Chas driving, John staring straight ahead, and Jade stroking Isis. John cut the quiet, "Take a right."

"Thank you, John," Chas muttered, and switched the radio on. Traces of Dave Matthews echoed through the car, and Jade finally appeared fed up.

"Let's not bother with the façade," her voice was acerbic, "And let me out."

John didn't turn, but Chas flicked his gaze at her through the rearview mirror. John didn't speak. Chas cleared his throat, "She's got a point, John. Why are we bothering?"

John continued to stare straight ahead, "There are some things I need to figure out. Jade is a minor. She's in my custody."

Chas nodded, trust his mentor not to give any actual reasons for what he was doing, and Jade rolled her eyes.

"What, a minor for, the next six months? Not like I'm not totally capable of being on my own."

Chas glanced at her again in the rearview mirror—she really was pretty, too bad she had the mouth and attitude of her older brother. And, to think, they hadn't even been raised together. Guess family ties really do count. Jade's brown eyes met Chas's hazel ones for a brief second, and he could have sworn he saw her shudder, and then shake her head as if to clear her head. Well, wasn't that nice—he didn't think he was that scary. Chas sighed, and pulled up onto the curb outside the apartment, opening the door. John got out, as well, but Jade stayed where she was, as if debating on whether or not to follow acquiescently to the apartment or make a run for it. Finally, she opened the door closest to the curb and stepped out, as well—Chas figured she'd realized that if not pleasant, life with John—for the time being, anyway—would at least guarantee some sort of security and stability.

Jade gazed quietly up at the old bowling alley as the taxi driving kid gallantly grabbed her bag from the trunk and bounded into the building. She had been debating on whether or not to stay with John or make a run for it, but in the end, she figured that life with John would at least allow for some security and stability. And she didn't particularly feel like living off garbage for the next few months, so she might as well. Either way, it didn't really matter—it wasn't like her life was really going anywhere. She'd had her parents, but even in the later teenage years with her parents, there'd been an unspoken tension that hovered about the house. And now…well, now she didn't even have that familiar—however unpleasantly abject—tension about. Jade gulped down what might have been a tear, if she ever cried. And she didn't. Not unless…no, just…never.

The taxi driving kid was standing next to her. He'd presumably taken her bag into the building and come out to guide her in upon realizing that she wasn't following him. What was his name, anyway? Jade decided to ask, "What's your name, anyway?"

"Chas," Chas replied, giving her a tentative smile, "The apartment's on the second floor. I think John's already up there…probably muttering to himself in Latin, or whatever John does." Chas began walking, and this time she followed.

Whatever John does, indeed. John Constantine was an enigma she wasn't sure she wanted to uncover the truth of. Related to her? Hardly. But there was an aura around him that screamed a lot of bitter regret, hardened cynicism, and…well, something Jade couldn't quite put her finger on. Even if she was going to be sharing house with this man, she felt no obligation to know or relate to him—as she was sure he felt none toward her. She always knew she had an older brother—though not explicitly. It had never been a source of pride for her parents, and she often felt that perhaps she was born into this world to succeed where he didn't. Where he couldn't, according to her parents.

Jade followed Chas up the stares and through a doorframe marked with odd patterns and symbols. A large, single room, lined with empty plastic water bottles. At the end of the room were a double bed and a faded, cracked red leather chair. An ancient wooden table, kitchenette area, and the shadow of a hallway were between them and the bed. John came walking out of another part of the apartment—the part where Jade assumed the hallway to be, and ran one hand through his dark hair. He motioned behind him, "Bathroom. Extra room, we can set that up as a bedroom for you later. Tonight you're sleeping on the couch. Chas, floor."

Chas looked more than slightly offended, but John shrugged, "Or go find someplace else, you have wings."

Chas had wings?—Riiight, John. No wonder Mom and Dad thought you were slightly off your rocker, Jade thought, dismissing that last comment with little confusion. She dropped Isis onto the counter, and walked over to where her suitcase was, picking it up and walking toward the bathroom.

"Towels in the cupboard," John called after her.

John sat at the table, sipping vodka and musing to himself, while Chas sat across from him, pouring over a book on ancient curses. Just like old times, John regarded Chas bemusedly, who was stuffing pretzels down his throat and scrunching his eyebrows in concentration. Chas looked up, "What?"

"Have you noticed anything strange about Jade?" John took the opportunity to ask.

"Um. No. Aside from her being the female version of you." Chas started to return to his book but John's steady gaze stopped him, "Why?"

John turned his empty glass over and rested his hand on it, frustrated, "I don't know. I…just…don't know."

"The great John Constantine doesn't know something," Chas teased, "Let me call the papers!"

John glared, "No, but I think something's going on. I walked into that office today and there was a half-breed sitting next to me. I…didn't even notice. Not until the very end."

"It's okay, John, senility gets all of us, eventually…"

"Chas. The half-breed was my uncle. And he wanted Jade. Pretty…badly, but I don't think he wanted to make a scene. I've talked to Michael before. Last time I did, he wasn't a half-breed."

Chas looked thoughtful, "Do you think he died?"

John shook his head, "No…I don't know if it was my uncle, at all."

Chas nodded, "Well, we can always go to Midnite's." He attempted to sound nonchalant and casual. John flipped the glass back over and poured himself some more vodka, "I was going to suggest that, and I know you really want to go…but I need Midnite to see Jade. And I don't think she…can."

"Why not? She is your sister."

"Not everyone is born with the 'gift.'" John shook his head, "I don't need Midnite on my case about anything, either. I'll go talk to him tonight. We can take her tomorrow." With that, John downed his vodka and walked over to his dresser, pulling some money out of one of the drawers. He grabbed his trench coat and pulled it on, heading for the door.

"Wait…where are you going?" Chas inquired, "Midnite's? So early?"

John rolled his eyes, "I'm going to stop by Angela's. See if she wants dinner."

Chas gave him a wounded look, "But you don't want to know if I want dinner? What about Jade?"

John slapped a twenty on the table, "Get a pizza. Stay here with her."

Chas sighed, "Sure, John, fine. Wha-pashaaaaa," he muttered the last part under his breath, halfway through making a 'whipped' motion when Jade stepped out of the bath. Which was probably a good thing, because John looked like he was ready to kill Chas, despite Chas's already-deceased state. Jade was wrapped in a towel, wringing her almost-waist length hair out. Chas stared.

"Do you have a hairdryer?"

John blinked at her.

"Oh-kay…no." Jade finished wringing her hair out, leaving a considerable puddle on the floor, and turned to walk back into the bathroom.

John smacked Chas upside the head, and called out to Jade, "Jade?"

"Yeah?"

John pointed to himself, and then to Chas, "Guy. Guy. Get a bathrobe." Jade raised an eyebrow at his flat tone, but gave him a mock-salute and returned to the bathroom. John gave one last warning glance at Chas, who raised his hands in mock-surrender, before striding out the door.