"You ever think if you told me more now that maybe I could help out?" Chas asked. He'd been badgering John ever since we left the apartment. We had pulled up beside the bowling centre and Chas was still asking questions as the four of us exited the cab.

John took a drag on his cigarette and ignored the question.

"No?" Chas assumed.

"Nope."

"Nope? Of course it's a nope," Chas muttered.

Constantine and I started to move up to his apartment above the bowling centre. Chas gathered a bag out of the trunk of the cab and Anput went with him to notify Beeman of the "new game" that was afoot, giving the bag to John.

Inside the apartment, John walked over to a wall and pulled on a chain. The effect was instantaneous. Shutters covering the windows that stretched along the length of the room were pulled open. Sunlight gave the room an almost orange/yellow tinge. Nevertheless, I couldn't stop a small smile from gracing my face.

"Home sweet home," I said.

Constantine coughed. "Sure."

My smile vanished. Constantine coughed some more. I bit my lip and waited for him to stop. When he finally did, he took off his coat, hung it up, and dropped the bag he was carrying in a corner.

"Do you have anything for that cough?" I asked.

"Yeah, but I ran out yesterday." John's voice sounded hoarser that usual.

"Well, Beeman will bring you some more tomorrow."

John crossed the room, finding a packet of cigarettes and taking one out. At the far side was an area sectioned off as a bedroom. He sat on the bed.

"You should probably see a doctor," I advised, following him slowly.

The cigarette between his lips bobbed as he spoke. "Why?"

"Because it's going to get a lot worse."

Constantine fished his lighter out of a pocket and lit the cigarette. The lighter snapped closed. He turned his head and looked at me, his expression was hard to read. He took the smoke out of his mouth, then sighed and stared at the floor. He looked, and probably felt, miserable. I glared at the smoke rising from the cigarette. It probably wasn't his fault that he was addicted, but as far as I knew, he had never tried to quit and that was just as bad in my opinion.

"At least promise me that when - not if, but when - you start coughing up blood, you'll go see a doctor."

Constantine looked at me again. His dark eyes searched mine. He really didn't look well. I tired to lighten the mood with a small smile. "Savvy?"

He arched an eyebrow. "'Savvy?'" he repeated. He rolled his eyes. "Great. Another Pirates of the Caribbean fan girl."

My smile widened. "Actually, I was the one who guided Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Yeah, sure." Sarcasm oozed from those words.

Now my eyebrows shot up. "I did! I got impaled to the door of the blacksmith shop!" He still didn't believe me. I rolled my eyes and stretched down the collar of my shirt just far enough to show him my scar. "See?"

"So all that stuff that happened was real?" Constantine's voice was deadpan. He took a drag on his cigarette and shook his head. "Cursed pirates don't exist."

"Says the man who has literally been to Hell and back," I muttered. John gave me a sour look. I sighed and tried to explain. "It happened in its own world. In its own dimension of time and space." I shook my head. "Look, don't worry about it. It's not important here and now. All that is important are you and the others here; Hennessy, Beeman, Chas, etcetera." I was careful not to mention Angela or Midnite. Constantine hadn't met Angela yet, and although he did know Midnite, mentioning his name might give away a hint that he was going to be involved soon.

After Constantine had gone to bed, I took some time to explore his apartment. I found some photos of two girls. One could have been his sister. The other girl in another photo didn't look so much like him. Old girlfriend, perhaps.

I began to receive flashes in my mind of detective Angela Dawson going to confession, admitting that she had killed another man and worrying that she was damned because she always knew where the bad guys were, "where to aim, when to fire". The priest reassured her that God had a plan for her and that she "mustn't let your faith be overshadowed by guilt." In her apartment near the freeway Angela went through her routine of going to bed, all the while her brain was churning over thoughts of guilt, God and damnation. Then she had the vivid nightmare about her twin sister Isabel, waking up in Ravenscar hospital and running to the roof. She knew that he wanted her, had marked her with his symbol. She knew that killing herself would be a sin and she would be punished in hell for all eternity, but it was either that or allowing Hell to come to Earth. So she tore off her ID bracelet, letting it flutter away on the wind, and fell from the roof of the hospital. A tragic nightmare, only it wasn't just a nightmare. It was really happening. As soon as Isabel died Angela awoke, gasping and afraid.

At the same time, I heard a noise from John's bedroom. I shook myself out of the trance I had gone into and saw John run into the bathroom. His coughing was so bad it sounded like he was going to hack up a lung. I rushed to his side as he bent over the sink and spat. We both saw the red liquid mixed with his saliva and knew its ominous meaning.

"Now will you go to a doctor?" I asked.

Constantine wiped his mouth and stared at himself in the mirror. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He took deep breaths. I'm sure this must have been painful for his ailing lungs. Breathing always hurt for him nowadays.

I resorted to pleading. "Constantine, please?"

He gave in and nodded. "Okay," he replied hoarsely.

For the first time I realised that he was shirtless. I smiled faintly when I spotted the conjuring tattoos on his arms. He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry," I said. "Spirits aren't allowed to get romantic with their assignments. Not that you'd want to get romantic with me."

He rolled his eyes. "You're not that bad. I've seen a hell of a lot worse."

I smiled and sighed. "Thanks. You want to try to get some more sleep? You're going to need it."

"Just got to make an appointment first." He said sarcastically.

"Call them now," I suggested.

Constantine shot me a dark look, but went and called Ravenscar hospital anyway. I closed my eyes and used some of my powers to make it possible for John to get an appointment the next day. That done, he walked back to the bed and sat on the rumpled sheets, rubbing his eyes. A near-by clock read 3:00 AM.

"You had something to do with that," he said tiredly. "No one can make an appointment at three in the morning."

I let a smile escape. "Yep."

"It won't matter, you know. Even if I am really sick and going to die, we both know where I'm going."

I sighed. "You go there, I go there too. You're stuck with me, no matter what happens to you."

He looked at he, something sad in his eyes. "Can spirits like you die?" he asked. I sighed again.

"Yes, but not in the same way you can. I've been impaled through the chest and lived. I don't need air when I'm under water, so I can't drown. I'm immune to cold weather too. I'm not immortal though, eventually I'll fade away." I didn't particularly want to think about this though. "You're worried about another ghost following you around, aren't you?"

"Got enough of them already," Constantine muttered, going for a cigarette. I knew that he did, even though for once I could not see or sense them. He could though. There was probably one in the room right now, watching him. Some old companion now dead because he trusted Constantine and was killed by a demon or some similar entity.

"I'm not going to haunt you for the rest of your life," I said, ignoring the smoke and sitting beside him on the bed. "Unless, of course, I ever get the chance to see you again after this little adventure is over." He gave me a look. "But that wouldn't really count as haunting," I added with a smile. "It'll just be because you need my help again."

Constantine blew smoke and said nothing for a short while. "What if I don't want to see you again?" he asked at last.

"You don't have a choice about that," I said, feeling a little put out. "If my masters decide you need me again, they'll send me."

Constantine puffed on what was left of his cigarette. "You sound like a half-breed angel or something." I smiled and shrugged. Constantine stood and crushed out the cigarette in the astray on the table.

"You should get some more sleep," I advised, also standing.

"I won't be able to now."

"Yes, you will," I insisted. "I can make you fall asleep. Now, get into bed or I'll make you fall where you stand." It was an empty threat, but John flopped down on the bed. He really was exhausted, despite what he told me, and I knew that a few sleepless nights lay ahead for him. Thanks to me, John Constantine was dozing in no time.

AN/ Thank you to those who took the time to review. The next chapter should be up within a week.