Constantine suddenly found himself pinned to the floor underneath the bare foot of the angel Gabriel. Gabriel was now dressed in an assortment of white clothes - his angel garb. He had descended on top of Constantine, trapping him. His foot was on his throat. It wasn't hard enough to choke him, just hard enough to keep him there. Constantine's hands went to the angel's ankle, but he had no strength to move it.

"Your ego is astounding," Gabriel declared with a smile, folding his steel-grey wings behind him. I glared up at the angel from my place on the floor, seething with restrained anger.

"Gabriel," Constantine growled. He thought about it for a moment, and then added with a slight cough, "Figures. And the wicked shall inherit the Earth."

"You judging me now, John?" Gabriel asked. His voice sounded too pleasant. It grated on me. Gabriel shoved Constantine's face into the tiles with his toes. Constantine fought to look up at him.

"Betrayal, murder, genocide, call me provincial."

Gabriel shrugged. "I am simply seeking to inspire mankind to all that was intended."

"By handing Earth over to the son of the Devil?" It understandably didn't make sense to Constantine. He demanded an explanation. "Help me here."

Gabriel was happy to oblige. He bent down towards Constantine and replaced his foot with his hand around Constantine's throat. My assignment gasped at the contact. Gabriel straddled Constantine's chest and raised his face to look up at him.

"You're handed this precious gift, right? Each one of you granted redemption from the Creator."

Constantine's head lulled back onto the floor. He seemed more ill now then he ever had been. He avoided Gabriel's gaze, yet still took in everything the rebel angel said. I held on to my assignment's arm to give him support, though I knew it was next to pointless.

"Murderers, rapists and molesters…" Gabriel continued. "…All of you, you just have to repent and God takes you into his bosom." He made a face and shook his head, like it was the most incredibly stupid notion in the world to even consider. "In all the worlds in all the universe no other creature can make such a boast, save man." Constantine closed his eyes as the angel rolled his head back and forth. John didn't even try to put up a fight. He was beyond that now. I felt a surge of sadness for him.

Gabriel sighed and leaned in closer, holding Constantine's head in his hands. Their noses were less than a foot away from each other. A quiet growl developed in my throat. John weakly opened his eyes and looked at the angel. "If sweet, sweet God loves you so," Gabriel said. "Then I'll make you worthy of His love. I've been watching you for a long time. It's only in the face of horror that you truly find your nobler selves. And you can be so noble."

I gritted my teeth. I hated to admit it, but Gabriel had a point. Horror did tend to bring out the best in some people. However, it could also bring out the worst in them, and the worst of human nature is a frightening thing indeed.

"So…" the angel summed up. He nodded to himself. "…I'll bring you pain, I'll bring you horror, so that you may rise above it." He grinned at Constantine and lifted him up, his hand grasping his shirt collar and tie. I also got to my feet, trying to hide my awe at how easily Gabriel could lift Constantine. My assignment's toes were barely touching the ground. "So that those of you who survive this reign of Hell on Earth will be worthy of God's love."

I felt a flash of anger. Wasn't that entirely missing the point of Jesus' sacrifice? Didn't He die so that everyone would be able to go to Heaven? Who did Gabriel think he was, anyway?

Constantine voiced my thoughts perfectly. "Gabriel, you're insane."

Gabriel only smiled, mildly amused. "The road to salvation begins tonight, right now."

He took a breath and blew at Constantine with the force of a small tornado. He let go and Constantine was blown back to the far side of the room where the half-breed demons had once stood waiting. He bounced off the tiled floor and impacted the glass doors, shattering them. I ran up to him before the sliding doors could close behind me, separating us from Gabriel and Angela. I slipped on the wet floor but caught myself before I fell on the remains of a half-breed.

When I reached Constantine, he was lying on his side. If possible, he looked even worse now; his skin was deathly pale and he had red rings around his eyes. He could barely breathe and was aching all over. Everything bad that had happened had built up to this point. It was just blow after blow after blow. Cancer was hungrily eating his lungs and zapping his strength. Chas, one of his last remaining friends, was dead and his murderer, an angel, was about to release the son of Satan into this world. Doing so would also kill the woman John was falling in love with. He had nothing left except me and even then he knew I couldn't really do anything productive other than stick by his side.

I knelt by John as he gazed towards the ceiling, towards Heaven. Then he did something he would only do in absolute desperation: he prayed.

"I know I'm not one of your favourites," he said quietly. His voice was horse with exhaustion and sickness. "I'm not even welcome in Your house. But I could use a little attention. Please."

We waited a moment. Nothing. I wasn't surprised and nether was he. If God was going to respond, He would have done it in that time. The room was depressingly silent and still.

I bit my lip, forming words in my mind. I didn't want to say them, but I saw no other option. "You know…" I faltered, swallowed and tried again. "You know who will come up here, if you call him. He could stop it too, providing he doesn't already know about it." I paused. Constantine said nothing as he mulled this over. "What other option do you have?" I asked softly, feeling time tick on. I was probably voicing John's own thoughts.

John looked at the shards of glass littering the floor around him. He saw one that was particularly large and sharp. He reached over to it and lifted it up. Then he made his final decision of what to do.

"You knew about this all along," John said to me. He sounded empty inside.

"Yes," I replied quietly.

"Then you know what I'm going to do next."

I nodded. "I do." I looked at the piece of glass in his hand and sighed. I helped John up into a sitting position, his back propped up against the doors.

In my mind's eye I saw Gabriel circle around Angela, then kneel down and make a cross on her forehead. Angela's skin became demonic again.

John removed his watch and dropped it to the wet floor beside him.

Gabriel placed his hand over Angela's stomach and told Mammon to come forth. He did so, appearing just underneath the surface of Angela's skin again. For a second, Gabriel seemed unsure as to whether he should continue, whether it was really the right thing, but it was too late now to back down.

John moved the piece of glass into position over his wrist. I couldn't bear to watch so I looked at his face instead. He hesitated as he pressed the glass to his skin, then with a wince he brought it swiftly across. I also winced at the sound and his expression of pain. The beginnings of tears welled up in my eyes, though I tried to suppress them. He transferred the glass to his injured hand and did the same to the other wrist. Then he tossed the shard towards me. I watched it clatter, stained with blood that was shockingly red against the clinically white tiles. John let his arms rest limply by his sides. Dark blood pooled out of the cuts as if eager to escape. John took a deep breath. He would already be able to feel his arms becoming heavy and a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach as his blood pressure dropped.

"Hurry," he murmured.

"Yes, please hurry," I prayed silently to whoever was listening.