Wounded warlock
Zed had been cooked up in the millhouse for so fricking long she even had started decorating the place with some flowers and art of her own. The interior of this millhouse was actually potentially cozy, but it was in need for a woman's ouch, sort of. That was what Zed had been convincing herself when she took a few pretty gemstones out of a forgotten box somewhere off a shelf full of junk. Then she remembered John specifically telling her to not wander around alone in this place. Because everything within this millhouse was too dangerous to lay around in this world and fall into the wrong human hands. Even exploring all the rooms wasn't meant to be for everyone, and certainly not someone like her. So maybe it was better if she just put the stones back into the box, don't touch anything. Before all hell breaks loose.
Zed stayed in the main room, settle down on the couch like a proper lady and so she did. In her mind she chuckled. 'Proper… my ass,' At least the couch was comfy.
Last time she heard from Constantine and Chas, they were on a case. Concerning a young girl claiming her mommy was possessed. She had the feeling they wouldn't want her to be around.
"No, Luv. Stay home and get a breather. You're noggin' needs rest. Remember?"
John had been very clear about staying away from them for a few days. Just until she felt better. Her headaches started to get worse and worse whenever she got a vision. Her mind needed some rest and distraction. She already passed out from a vision ones. Certainly John Constantine didn't like that for one bit. So she agreed to stay at the house, just until she felt she was needed.
Zed already tried to make spiritual contact by wanting to see what they saw right now but she was too distracted. Maybe because she had promised not to peek on them until her monster headache had passed.
And it hadn't. Meanwhile she picked up her drawing pad, trying to create a beautiful scenery of trees and flowers. A place where she could escape to. Far away from this millhouse, she meant. Her mind was set on a beautiful old oak tree with thick roots and branches. Her fingers swiped away some of the dark charcoal, her favorite medium, to make the shades on the leaves softer and friendlier. She liked this drawing. Then, all of the sudden a flash of red light distorted her sight. A vision blurred her reality.
A link… to… something dark. An image of a pig on a poke, two shadows lurking over it. A smell of copper and alcohol. Sounds of dripping water. A faint voice, she couldn't recognize it. Something red and leaking. A cigarette burning a hole in the carpet. A vision of red dots fell on her drawing and a feeling of horror, a pit in her stomach consumed her mind.
With a gasp she snapped out of it and Zed couldn't calm down. In her heart she knew… something did go wrong with this case Constantine and Chas was working on.
She picked up her phone but Chas line goes straight to voicemail. Same for John's. With a curse she plopped down on the couch again. Forgetting her drawing. Forgetting her jasmine tea she had made earlier. Her head hurts. Overwhelmed by all the feelings Zed sunk against the backrest of the couch.
Zed suddenly got shaken up by a harsh sound, coming from outside. How long had she been resting? Car doors smacked shut, she never heard them open. Two heavy footsteps walked in an odd pace towards the door. She shot up from the spot on the couch, franticly looking upwards to the stairs. The pit in her stomach overtook her monstrous headache.
"Chas? John?" The door opened with a little more force than normal. Now Zed saw why the footsteps didn't sound familiar. Chas grunted as he carried a lifeless Constantine inside.
"What the Hell?" she exclaimed, eyeing the strong guy getting the blond inside all bridal style.
"Zed, get the First aid kit and some blankets." His voice stern and rushed. As soon as he got the deadweight on the couch Chas started opening John's red-stained shirt.
"What happened?" Zed had to ask even thought it was clear something went terribly wrong. She brought the kit and dropped on the ground near the couch to look the demonologist over. Chas was already starting to unpack some bandages and alcohol. Not wasted time to dress the bleeding wound in the man's stomach. A faint grunt was coming from the warlock's mouth. Sadly too weak to fight against the obvious pain.
"Chas?" Zed asked again.
"Short version: exorcism gone wrong. Put some pressure here." Chas started draping the blankets over the man's legs for some comfort. Zed did her best not to freak out about the whole thing. As soon as her hands pushed on John's stomach they were stained with crimson red blood.
"Why is he injured? The girl, is she alright?" Zed tried to understand this situation.
"The girl is fine. The mom was indeed possessed. Stabbed John with a meat fork. Making a scene. John managed to exorcise the demon out of her, sending it back to hell. She will be fine too. Thank God. Just shaken up by the whole experience. Called an ambulance. Neighbors called the cops on us. I had to get him out of there. You know how he gets." Chas eyes were red and frantic. Some of John's blood stained his shirt. Letting Zed see how bad it had gotten. Still, she couldn't believe Chas had taken him here, instead of a hospital. She had to speak he mind about it.
"He's cold, Chas. We have to take him to the hospital. What were you thinking? He needs help."
"Damnit Zed. I am not truly convinced the demon left him only with that wound. He… might be cursed." His last words came out shaky and unsure.
Zed blinked up in horror.
"I don't know for sure but he was acting different when-,"
"Different how exactly?" Zed gasped, slowly backing away from the passed out form that had taken up her space on the couch. Blood was dripping from her fingertips, making spots on her own clothes.
"Don't know yet. But we have to keep a close eye on him until I am sure. This demon was chanting some words before leaving it's host. It got John taken aback. He lost control for a second. That's when he got stabbed like a little piggy. He wasn't talking much on the way home. Seemed himself, though. Hey! Keep pressing that wound!"
"Sorry." The man was bleeding out. Possessed or not; letting go of the wound wouldn't help this situation very much. And proceed slowing the flow by applying pressure. Again, John made an uncomfortable gurgle with his throat. Zed shook her head.
"I should have been with you guys. Maybe I could have prevent all this w-with one of my visions."
"Don't. These things happens, it's not your fault."
"..hmph…" the wounded man grunted in agony.
Chas looked down at the shivering ball of misery.
"That thing came flying out of nowhere, stabbing him in the abdomen. He took it out while I was driving. Told him not to mess with it until we were home. John being John." Chas held his hands up as gesture of being helpless. Sure Chas had the right to be angry at the carelessness of his friend.
"Dark world," Zed mumbled, sunken deep in her thoughts.
Some demons that walked the earth were just here to damn Constantine to hell before his time. Seemed like. Demons hopping meatsack to meatsack like it was nothing. This time it was a mom and a child with no connection to Johns' wellbeing. This world was just so unbelievingly dark sometimes.
"It was in there, deep, Zed. We need some needle and dread later on."
Zed nodded to the first aid kit.
"It should be all in there." Suddenly John started coughing and tensed up under her hands. His eyes rolled around his sockets before he went slack. His body was vibrating out of pain, though.
"Calm down, John," Chas exclaimed, still busy with gathering the stuff they needed to tread the wound.
"You should have taken him to the hospital." She meant it. John Constantine might be a powerful warlock, he is still human.
It got quiet after that. Meanwhile Zed pressed down on the demonologist's stomach wound. The bandages were seeped through already. Some of the blood dripped down on her forgotten art, making her perfectly drawn oak tree look sad and scary. Her eyes caught the sight and let out a shaky breath. Her vision…
It took a while to stim the bleeding. But after a good twenty minutes the bleeding had stopped and Zed could finally let go. John hadn't moved much except for occasionally huffing against her harsh pressure. Sweat was forming on the poor man's forehead, telling his own tale of how much it hurts.
"I am sorry, Zed. You are right. I should have taken him to the hospital. This doesn't normally happen in cases. I-I panicked," Chas spoke apologetically. Meanwhile pleased that his old friend had stopped leaking. Zed shook her head.
"Let's patch him up, first. If he gets worse, we can get him to the nearest hospital which is seventeen minutes from here." They both shared a look.
…
It took John a few hours to gain a bit of strength back and started to stir under the blankets. Chas was sitting nearby and looked up from his book. "John?" he asked carefully.
"Huhhhn… Mate… what's with all the lights?" Two glazed-over eyes peeked up to him. "Worse hangover…" His voice not more than a painful croak.
"Got stabbed in the gut, remember?" Chas was testing the man's memory but it was hard to get something from those hazy eyes alone.
"Chilly in here. How come?" John looked around finally figuring out where he was. Chas worried about the bloodloss and start reaching for a glass of orange juice with a straw in it.
"Might be low on blood. Drink this. It will make you feel a lot better." He handed the glass as John tried to sit a bit up from his position on the couch. By the looks of it John was confused and disoriented and in a lot of pain.
"Where's Zed?" he croaked.
"I am here," Zed said while hurrying towards the couch. "You up? Here, let me help." She replaced a pillow behind his back, helping him sit upwards in a more comfortable position. John's eyes started to droop while chugging the juice slowly. "Was hoping for something… stronger, luv." Came out as a mere whisper. Zed shook her head at this. Nearly huffing at his request.
"No, alcohol. It will only make your blood thinner. You want to bleed out faster?"
"Zed," Chas interrupted. The patient was clearly in pain and closed his eyes with force. Trying to contain himself from his friends but sadly failing at this point. Tears streaming down his white cheeks. "Hey, you okay?" she asked. At this point John wasn't responding to her voice anymore. This was bad.
"He's probably bleeding again."
Zed made way for Chas how carefully started tugging at the shirt. John grunted and moaned as the hands touched his sore gut. Shoulders shivering from the lack of blankets. He must be feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Meanwhile Chas was too busy examining the wound. Zed was taken aback by all this. John Constantine was just as human as everyone else. Why did this come as a shock to her?
"Lay back down. Easy now." The poor man felt useless and weak. His pained body sunk into the couch, ones more. "No more sitting up," Chas told him. John nodded slightly before sobbing quietly. This was not normal for him.
"You need more stitches. It started bleeding again. Damnit. Just as I thought." Chas gave his friend's shoulder a squeeze for comfort.
"A-Alright daddy. But before you start butchering me again, can I get something for the pain? It's getting a bit nippy down here." His voice shaking with discomfort.
Zed bit her lip. Immediately started rummaging through the first-aid for the stuff they needed to stitch him back up. This was going to be painful. Last time John was out. She actually hoped he would be going out again before they started.
"We do not have anything strong enough. Only your sleeping pills," Chas confessed. John grimaced.
"No… I-I take them as vitamins. Doesn't work on me, mate. M-my bag… please." John sounded horrible.
"I left your bag in the car," Chas said, looking at Zed.
"On it." She nodded and got to the front door.
There was nothing much to do than wait for a bit. John wasn't talking much after this. His eyes got cloudy and his color drained. Now that Zed was away Chas had to ask.
"What happened back there, John?" Chas tried. John glared at him only half conscious, now. "W-whot?" Chas furrowed his brows.
"You know what I mean. That demon… what did he do to you?"
John shook his head, turning his glance away from him. Sweat was dripping from his chin.
"Not a clue… But I felt a nasty pinch in my gut afterwards…"Chas huffed at that.
"I am serious. John."
John tried to look up at him but felt too weak.
"I am too, mate." John grunted at Chas grip getting tighter on his wound. It gave him a bit more energy to talk, though.
"D-demon… just used… confusing spell o-on me. Oldest trick in the book. No worries." The tight grip eased down again. Causing him to look up at his friend. Chas nodded at his words. He was kind of relieved.
"Sounds obvious."
John nodded. Finally able to let his head rest against the pillow. Then the door swung open.
"Got some pills. Saw the back of the car, by the way. There is even blood on the ceiling." Zed hurried to the bundle of pain and handed him two pills and a glass of water with a straw. John didn't need water and eagerly swallowed the pills for the blissful relieve.
"What kind of pills did you give him?" Chas had to ask. Zed threw the bottle at him. He caught them with one hand and looked the label over. Confusion was on his face.
"How did you even get these?" He eyed the patient who was already looking a bit calmer.
"Stole them… Hospital, mate.… Never know what's going to happen. I always think ahead, you see." The faint smile was about the last thing before he dozed off a bit. Shoulders relaxed. Breathing got deeper. It was time to get to the stitching part.
Even sedated to the point his lights gone out, John instinctively tried to fight his way out of its' needle way. "Sorry, buddy." Chas had to focus on his work and not look too much at the raw flesh around the wound.
"After this you and I need a drink." Zed nodded. "He stopped shivering," she noticed. Her hands felt for a pulse. The warlock was calmer now. But still felt cold to the touch.
"He was in a lot of pain. Get the scissors, nurse." Zed cut the dread with care, not minding the nurse thing. It was the last one. Hopefully the wound stayed close from now on.
"Eight stitches. Let's hope it's enough." Chas heaved a sigh. "Would you mind staying here for a while? I need to change my clothes." Zed eyed the red stains once more in sorrow and nodded. "Sure."
…
John slept a long while, thanks to the pills he took, By the time the morning came he was the first to make a sound. Nothing more than a dry cough that send him immediately in total agony. With a breathless moan he huddled forward, forcing himself to get up from the pillow. A sharp pain was coming from his abdomen, only reminding him that yesterday was not some kind of bad dream. One hand pulled down the blankets in surge for the bandages. Only pleased a second later, finding out there was no blood.
'I let my guard down for a bit. And look what happened.'
There was a fresh wear of clothes laying on the table next to the couch. It wasn't his signature white button down shirt, he saw. Just an old oversized hoody that was Chas', no doubt. John tried to reach it, didn't care about the looks of it. Hell, he was freezing cold. "Aahhrg... Oi…" he couldn't reach it. His muscles jolted in the wrong way, pulling at the wound, shooting stars up to his eyesight.
"Bloody Hell…" he hissed, all teary-eyed and helpless. While looking down, John found some interest in the smutched drawing. The trees. The flowers. Spotted with dried blood of his own, probably. Zed must've been working on it when he and Chas came in. Speaking of which…
Where the hell was everybody?
"John Constantine. Looking like dead warmed over," The familiar voice came from upstairs. With a faint grin John looked up at his old friend.
"Chas. Mate… came just in time. My arm span seems to have shrunken overnight. About an inch or two, can't reach for the marvelous sweater, you see. Kind of helpless over here. I'm freezing my nips off." Already feeling tired, John waited patiently while Chas came down the stairs.
"You do look awful, John. I wasn't joking. You scared the hell out of us." Chas figured John probably needed some help with putting the hoody on and without words he got to work. It scared him how un-faced and cooperating John actually was. As soon as he got his arms through the holes he let Chas do all the work while hanging forward.
"When is the last time you ate?" Chas had to ask after feeling his spine and ribs sticking out.
"Don't remember, Daddy," the demonologist joked. But he… really didn't remember.
After the task of getting the hoody on, John was getting woozy and let himself ease back down on the couch.
"Well, you will need something to get your strength back up. I'll ask Zed." But John furrowed his brows.
"No, she is still with the headaches, mate. I am fine with what we got." Chas nodded.
"We got soup."
"Oi, lovely, mate."
"Fine." At least he was cooperating.
When Chas was in the kitchen John pushed himself off from the couch. Immediately taken by the blinded pain the demonologist exhaled loudly. Grasping the bandages instinctively didn't help much either. But after a bit he could see clearly again. There, swaying on his bare feet, John thought it was a great plan to wander off to the toilet, and he used that term loosely, on its own.
It seemed like a wrong idea after all, because with every step the stubborn blond took, it took some energy with it. Not coming very far, John started wavering dangerously and sought support against the nearby bookshelf.
"John!" Zed came around the corner carrying some fresh bandages and stuff, but forgot all about it. She dropped everything in order to support the man's weight. "What the hell are you doing up?"
John grinned despite hating himself for not being able to stand. His abdominal muscles didn't allow him to straighten his back fully either.
"I need to take a piss, luv. Unless you have an empty bottle on hand I have to go to the powder room." He lost his footing for a split second nearly falling sideways against the bookshelf, probably making this scene look more pathetic on his end. With a grunt of discomfort, John closed his eyes, not wanting to she Zed's pity-face while trying to find his balance back.
"What's going on here?" John heard. Chas was there now, too, he figured.
"Bollocks, mate. I am fine. I can handle myself pretty well!" His words spat out in anger. But he wasn't angry at them. More like at his own weak self. And just like that, het pain in his stomach was getting unbearable. With his eyes closed John let himself lean against the bookshelf. Only noticing his friends grabbing an arm. If it weren't for them he would've probably already collapsed to the ground.
"He said he need to go to the bathroom," he vaguely heard Zed explain. On the verge of passing out John felt a tug on his arm, bringing him back to the living a little.
"Let's go then, master of the dark arts," Chas murmured mockingly. Just for the normalcy of it.
John got helped to the toilet and as soon as he unhooked himself from his friends he smacked the door close. Zed blinked at Chas. "Well, first time for everything. He never closes the door." Chas smirked. Because it was true.
It took a while in there, both stayed at the door just in case. There were some tinkle sounds and a flush. At least the toilet was working again, after being clogged up for months. Zed was standing there with Chas, awkwardly until there was a stumbling sound.
"John? You still alive in there?" Chas asked calmly, eyeing Zed with a shrug. This was John Constantine. He was a stubborn ass, acting like a hangry teenager when in need for help. From the way Chas reacted Zed felt like this situation had happened before in the past.
"Yeah… I'm fine. No worries… Just… eh… slipped and fell into the wall…" Finally the door opened. A very tired John stepped out, immediately seeking support for their endless journey back to the comfy couch.
By the time they got the poor man off his feet Chas remembered the boiling water on the stove. John was half asleep when his friend got back with a bowl of steaming instant chicken noodle soup. The patient eyed it half interested. Zed bit her lip.
"Let's refresh the bandages first, let the soup cool off a bit. Maybe you want it by then?" It was important to get his strength back. "You can't get any more pills if you'll eat something, anyway. It's your choice." Al John could do was one single nod, weakly, but it was there. So Zed got to work. The stitches held up well. Even with his little stumble. The wound looked raw and the skin around it irritated and warm. Some disinfection cream would fix that, hopefully. She grabbed a few things before hand and started working. Meanwhile John's breathing started to even out. He had dozed off by the time she was done and draped a blanked around his shoulders. "You aren't getting a fever are you, John?" There was no response. Zed felt uneasy about his complexion again. Something told her Constantine was getting worse instead of better. Chas walked up to her and gave her a shoulder squeeze for comfort.
"Let him rest, Zed. If we force the soup on him now he would probably choke on it. " Chas joked. But there was a concerned tone in his voice.
The day was still young. Anything could happen. Maybe a nap was all John needed now.
…
John was still sleeping soundly in the afternoon. Both Zed and Chas were hanging out in the main room, basically trying to prevent the demonologist from wandering off again. It had already taken all of his energy apparently.
After a while of listening to the soft snores Zed put down her book and peered at the sleeping blond.
"You still think he is possessed?" she asked Chas. Chas looked up from his ancient demon lore. He eyed the sleeping form with a frown before answering.
"Nah, he is fine. I asked about it earlier, about what went wrong during the exorcism. Some kind of confusion spell got him distracted. Spell got broken when the demon was send back to hell."
"If it helps, I eh.. Touched his wound earlier. I didn't had a vision or felt some kind of darkness around it. I had one before you two came in though…"
Chas glanced at her concerned.
"How's the head, by the way?" Zed just shrugged.
"Fine.. But.. about John. He was running a slight temperature. I think. Should we be worried?" Zed bit her lip.
"He worn himself out. Let's just wait and see. If he gets a fever we will know fast enough."
Zed grimaced. "What do you mean 'we will know fast enough'?" Chas flipped over a page in his book and grinned.
"Oh… last time he wanted to summon the little mermaid in his glass of water. I had to tape his mouth before the whole room filled up with dead fish. Let's not forget mentioning the smell."
Zed shook her head. Chas made her smile.
It got quiet after that.
Meanwhile Constantine rested.
…
Later that day John started to get a bit more restless. It was probably the pain and discomfort from laying in this odd position on the couch all day. Zed was the first one who noticed the sound of a bare foot dropping on the floor as John started to roll over. There was not enough space to get comfy so his other leg swung over the edge as well jolting the poor man upwards in pain. "Bloody… hell..." he grunted.
He was biting the pillow by the time she got to him.
"Hey? You still okay?" she asked at the two glazed over eyes. There was something wrong the way he looked at her.
"Bollocks…yanked out my stitches…" he hissed.
"What, again?" she sighed.
She bit her lip while forcing the man to lay on his back again.
"… torture…" his words didn't sound right to her.
"Let me see." Zed yanked the blankets down and started pulling at the bandages. And of course he was right.
"Jesus," she cursed. The wound started bleeding slowly and it didn't look very good, either.
"This is never going to heal if you don't stop moving so much." After contemplating the damage, she looked back up at the patient. He wasn't looking great. Pale complexion, odd rosy cheeks, sweaty and clearly in a lot of pain. "I have to fix this right away." John stared at her now with no energy of replying. "John?" Zed felt his cheeks with the palm of her hand. "You are running a fever. That's not good either." She was getting really worried. "I have to take care of that too." Then Constantine grasps her hand shakily. His eyes blinked up at her in total agony. He didn't want all of this! This 'taking care of' him. He just couldn't handle it all. She felt his emotional panic. All of the sudden a vision interrupted her mind.
...
What was this? Where was she? She looked down at her feet. It were those of a young boy. This must be a memory… 'You are the son of the devil! You have caused suffering since the day you've been born.' Zed was shocked. This was agruesome childhood's memory of John's. His dad. Hitting him until he felt limp to the ground. Every night. Calling him a murderer. His mom's death blamed on him. The suffering….The pain! The hate. The loss. The guilt! Bloody hands, bruises and an intense fear crawling deep in the skin. Coldness. No exit!
…
Zed gasped at the flashes. Dark feelings washing over her like a curse. In the meantime John had let go of her hand in fear of what she had seen. "S-sorry…" John stammered. His eyes grew big and he looked terrified.
Zed had to take a few breaths before letting go of these images. Then she finally had the courage to look him back at him. She just had invaded his privacy.. accidently. A cruel memory…
She didn't meant to.
"Don't touch me… again…please.." John whispered concerned for her.
She got it however what he meant to say and nodded shakily. "Okay, John."
There was a pause. The demonologist faded away in some kind of daydream and all Zed could do was watch him fight against it.
A tear escaped from the man's eyes. By now the heat was radiating from his skin and she could feel the waves. "Stop hitting…" John rolled his head sideways trying to turn away from her. He was starting to feel the effects of the high temperature.
"John? Can you hear me. It's just the fever talking. I specifically told you not to move so much, remember? That way your wound will never heal." John shook his head. Eyes were looking at something that wasn't there.
"You saw him… did you?" John started sobbing.
His legs curled up, his hands clasped the blanket, eyes rolled around, no longer able to focus on anything. "… abomination…killer… b-because of me…mom i-is.." Then john stopped talking. He gasped when Zed put a hand on his shoulder.
"Snap out of it, John."
John panted like he had been running around the woods for hours before passing out.
This was all she could take and needed help.
"Chas!"
She tried to bring John around but he was way out. When she heard Chas coming from the stairs her hands were, again, pressing on his wound.
…
After an terrifying hour of John snapping in and out of consciousness while they tried to stitch him back up, yet again, the patient finally woke up completely.
"..P-pancakes…" was the first word spoken that Chas and Zed actually could understand. They were both exhausted from the current event of try to take care of the wound properly with the patient being delirious.
Slowly the demonologist's eyelids fluttered open. There was a weird kind of smile on his face, making him look drunk on something. "There we go," a whisper came from the left.
John blinked up at the two with no recollection of what had happened and Chas let a chuckle escape his lips.
"For a moment there I wondered if we should've taken you to the hospital. But we both disagreed on this, considering they might actually keep you there for a full psychological evaluation."
Confusion stood out on John's white face as he looked up at them. The wet cloth on his brows fell on his chest when trying to get up from the pillow.
"Oh nononono… You, sir… need to stay down," Zed ordered while pushing the patient down on the couch.
John was acting all slow and docile. It was in their favor.
It took the poor man some time to figure it all out. Slowly the world around him became more clear as he just lay there. There was a pillow under his head and a thick blanket that touches his chin. He was tired and numb. And not in a hurry to get off the couch.
"How do you feel?" Zed, then, asked softly, while placing her palm on his forehead. Chas was still rummaging around in the first aid kit on the table next to him. John took it all in.
"You still have a fever. But you are coming out of it. Finally."
John's jaw dropped in awe.
"What did I do?" he asked concerned but more clearer now.
"Relax, John. You didn't do anything crazy. Just yammering around a bit. It's all good," Chas assured him.
Zed lowered herself next to the couch. "You have to take these for the fever." She held up two pills and a bottle of water.
John took them shakily and had some help with handling the bottle cap.
"Nauseous…" John moaned after getting the pills and water down.
"That's because you haven't eaten. What about pancakes?" Zed insisted while winking at him mysteriously. John gasped at that.
"I was just thinking that…" His eyes grew big with excitement. Chas had to fight off another chuckle.
"Yeah, well. She can read minds, remember." Chas was done cleaning up the bloody bandages and left the room. It had been a mess an hour ago. And he will have a hard time forgetting the part when John Constantine was screaming for his mother. Oh, the fear in his glazed-over eyes. It was an horrific moment Chas will never speak a word of in the presence of his old friend.
…
It was evening. John hadn't been getting worse. His stomach could hold the two pancakes he nibbled on. Zed made a mess in the kitchen, remembering how much fun throwing and tossing them around in the air it was. Chas was away for a few groceries.
When Zed finished cleaning the counter a bit she could hear the patient murmur softly. Pretending she hadn't heard a thing, Zed walked over to the table and gathered John's dishes. John was half asleep, still supporting a flushed color. The damp cloth must've fallen on the ground when he shifted his head around.
"Loving the role of an house wife, luv?" John suddenly spoke. Zed startled at first because she thought the man had fallen asleep. Then she thought about what he asked and couldn't help but feeling offended.
"What? Because I am actually taking the dirty dishes to the sink where they belong?" John just shrugged.
"What about the flowers, then? The cleaning. I saw a smile on you." John summed everything up he had seen but surely missed a few considering his fevered mind.
"Talk all you want, Constantine. The pancakes were a one-time deal." She placed the cloth back on his head after drenching it again. Water fell in his eyes and neck because she deliberately 'forgot' to wrench it first.
John could take it. He smirked while closing his eyes again. I seemed to even like the cold water, or maybe he just hadn't had any energy to bicker some more.
It made Zed laugh a bit. He was doing better because he was acting like an ass again.
…
"John, wake up." Chas was shaking the patient awake and John blinked at the tall figure standing over him. "Chas… What's wrong, mate?" His eyes had a burning sensation while looking up to the lights. He must've been sleeping for a while now.
"It's just that… Your fever broke and I don't trust you spending the night here on the couch. You might want to sleep in the comforts of your own bed for a change." John thought about it. He was tempted to push himself up, trusting his own strength, but two hands pushed him back down.
"Save the energy. I can bring your bed downstairs if you want. Might be a bit less of an effort on your end. But the bathroom is next to your room. What do you want me to do. I can carry you if I must."
John blinked up at Chas. What an odd way to go upstairs.
"You want to carry me to my room? Don't be ridiculous. I can walk to my bloody room on my own. But I might need some help getting to my feet." John was happy to sleep in his own room. The couch was getting a bit annoying. He also felt a bit better now that his fever seems to have broken.
"Just give me a hand, mate. If I pass out you may carry me like a bloody bride." Chas chuckled.
"Wouldn't be the first time," he murmured calmly. Causing John to grimace out of confusion.
"I literally carried you from the car into the millhouse yesterday," Chas explained and rolled down the blankets to help him sit. John blinked, trying to remember last night.
"It's okay, John. You were out of it. Now on three. One. Two.." Chas hooked his hand under John's armpit and hauled him to his feet. The patient got a stinging reminder how much his gut hurt. Both hands clasped the end of his friends shirt in total panic and fought back a scream. "Bollocks…" John spat out. His eyes started watering. He couldn't take another step despite Chas suggested, so his friend did the next best thing. And hauled his feet of the ground.
"Hold on tight, Princess." Chas adjusted his grip and started walking upstairs. John didn't say a word because he was too embarrassed he couldn't make it on its own. By the time they were above the stairs, John wiggled around.
"Put me down. I think I can make it from here." He got his feet to the ground and straightened his back but ones again the skin around the wound pulled at the stitches and he basically yelped in fear of busting another stitch. He swayed and sought some support against the wall. Chas looked him over with concern.
"You'll need some actual physiotherapy, John. If it hurts that bad…"
John grunted.
"Let me be, mate. Maybe it's because of your bloody stitches." He tried to get further but he was failing. Chas took the insult as if it was nothing and grabbed his friends arm.
"Come on, grandpa. Let's get you settled in," Chas joked.
…
The next morning Zed was on her way to check up on her patient but walked in to an empty bedroom. There was a black trouser on the ground and underwear. The trail of dirty clothes stopped at the bathroom next door. To her surprise she heard the shower running. And the door was locked too.
"John? You're in the shower? Remember to not use any soap around the wound because it will hurt."
"Sod off, Zed. Let a man shower in peace!" Zed blinked at the angry tone to her. Chas came walking by and snorted. Zed didn't understand the behavior.
"Has he been always like this?" she asked while folding her arms.
"Not to worry, he is just pissed he can't handle himself being vulnerable."
…
"Chas! I need my pills, where did you leave them?" came yelling from upstairs. Chas was just about to make himself some tea when a stumbling sound sounded upstairs.
"Bloody hell!" John cursed. Chas wasn't surprised to find the man sitting on the ground crumpled in pain.
"What did you do now?" Chas sighed as he kneeled down next to him.
"Stumped my little toe, you wanker. It's my bloody wound, alright! I reached for something in my closet and yanked at the stitches again. When I yelled for my pills I couldn't find I got… woozy…"
Chas furrowed his brows.
"Okay… John. Then stop yelling at me. You're acting like that hangry teen I dealt with before. We talked about this. Remember? And I hate to say it but: Calm. The. Fuck. Down." His stern eye contact came through. John heaved a sigh and stroke his blond tousled hair. Then Chas took John's shoulders and pulled the man back on his feet again. The patient nodded his thanks while finding his balance.
"Fine… Just… get me my bloody pills, I'll be in my room for the day." Chas watched the man stumble back to his room and shook his head.
…
Zed and Chas were hanging around in the main room when they heard someone moan in agony. Zed immediately stood up from her chair but Chas eyed her. "Let him ask for help first. He needs to learn a lesson." Zed nodded and settled back on her chair.
From upstairs their patient started taking the stairs, bravely. They both heard him grunt in pain and now Zed eyed Chas, because John wasn't going to ask for help if he fell down and broke his neck.
So she got up and met the demonologist halfway.
"What's this? Don't like to be alone in your room anymore?" Zed tried and took his arm to support half his weight. John shook his head.
"Was graving a siggy. But I don't have my lighter on hand, luv. Is in my coat," he panted. His energy was draining by the second but his love for a smoke got him down the stairs. Zed snorted.
"Really? You just got a bit better, and now you want to smoke one of those disgusting cancer sticks?"
John pulled himself upwards on the banister to look her in the eye.
"Yeah well, since you promised me no more of those one-time special pancakes this is the next best thing," he joked. After peering down the room he spotted his coat somewhere tossed against the wall, bloody and filthy from their last adventure. He didn't care much of it and felt the pockets. But there was no lighter.
"You dropped them on scene. My mistake, probably I was too busy carrying you out the house before the cops came, I totally forgot tho pick them up for you." Chas told calmly. The cigarette, hopefully pinned behind his ear, dropped on the ground. John hung his shoulders.
"Bollocks."
…
Two weeks had passed and John Constantine was getting restless. He had been practicing a few spells and annoyed the hell out of everybody with his temper. One time it got so bad that Zed actually emptied her glass of wine on John's head and threw her vase with flowers against the wall. Chas had the feeling he dealt with kids that needed his supervision all the time. He actually missed the quiet sick puppy dog Constantine sometimes, who couldn't held up his own glass of water.
The only thing that could shut him up for hours were the painkillers the warlock conveniently stole from a hospital. The thing was that John was still in a lot of pain and discomfort. A weird kind of limp got developed along the way, over the past few days that indicated he had still trouble to stand up straight. It will pass, for sure. But Chas wasn't agreeing on any case yet. Just until his friend could tie his own damn shoes again.
...
Chas was reading the paper when a dusty bag plunged down on the table. With a sigh he looked up at the grinning demonologist. Chas put down his paper and remained his calm self.
"Alright. I bite. What's in that bag, John?" his glance was neutral, and maybe a little tired.
"Glad you'll asked, mate. Behold the eye of Bahdrüne, Goddess of magic and spiritual forces. I forgot about it for a while but this artifact might help us during a divine protecting spell. I actually know someone who can help us creating a sacred place to do this spell. All we need is the occasional stuff like my bag, a handsome driver and a lot of-,"
"-No, John." Chas interrupted. He shove the bag off his paper and heaved a sigh.
John flexed his shoulders and cursed under his breath.
"Chas. It has been a month. You can't hold me here forever, mate. Look at me. I am doing great." Chas looked up from his paper.
"We agreed on six weeks. It takes six weeks to heal a bullet wound. Your wound had been popped open several times and you got very sick."
"Bloody hell. Stop pampering me, mate. I've had worse." John folded his arms.
Chas stood up from the table and shrugged.
"Fine. Prove it," he said. John blinked at his tall friend.
"Alright… how?"
"Touch your toes with your hands. You could do it before, now let's see how far you get without hurting yourself." John snorted at that. But when he knew Chas was being was serious he gulped.
"Your joking right?" he asked to be sure.
Chas shook his head.
"I am not. Let me see."
"Fine."
Behind Chas, Zed came walking into the kitchen just in time to see John Constantine bend over trying to reach his shoes. "There, you see… convinced?" He was sweating by the time he got to them and shot up, glad this was done and over with. Now he noticed Zed standing there too and huffed.
"Alright... You're healed. Tell me when you're ready."
Zed held back a grin.
"Laugh all you want… but your precious playtime is over. Because we… got work to do."
John Constantine closed the bag with a blank face, put up his color and strode to the door.
It was time for a new adventure.
…
The end
…
AN: This was my first fanfic based on the characters in John Constantine series. I own nothing! But it took a little spin on a hurt/comfort kind of story. I hope you liked it. Please review. I am rusty with writing in English.
Xxx
Josie