Honestly, slamming a door on him in his own establishment? Midnite had to respect Constantine's nerve, but his actions lacked.. Elegance. Worse, they lacked foresight. It took more than a closed door to keep Midnite out.

On the other side of the door John ran to Chas and Angela. Angela looked as though she'd been arranged carefully as opposed to flung like Chas, shit was it redundant to check if Chas was still breathing? He glanced at the door out of reflex, but what was he going to do? They were Midnite's property the moment they'd walked in. He'd only stalled.

'It's nothing personal you know,' said Midnite, and John jumped.

'It never is with you,' he said.

'Thank you.'

The door looked ancient, probably a relic like everything else in sight. Religious and mystical artefacts were stored everywhere and the door – John felt it before he realised what it was, his chest growing tight and for a second he thought it was panic – the door pounded once in its frame, the wood groaning then leaving silence in its wake. Midnite testing the air. A slight tremor followed, rustling Angela's hair, then John heard Midnite come closer. John went back to the door, leaning his forehead against it, tired.

'Chas, it would be really helpful..,' he said at the same moment as Midnite's, 'What were you thinking Constantine?'

John turned to face the room, coming to sit against the door.

'I'm winging it,' he said.

Next to him sat a box full of crosses; some ornate, some plain, all doubtlessly valuable. He picked one at random, felt the weight of it, and threw it at Chas. Inches from hitting him, one of Chas' wings twitched – John watched as it flew up with a loud rushing noise and batted the cross away from he and Angela, the cross clanging on the stone floor. John stared as he felt a rush of air from the feathers fluttering back down to Chas' side.

..stared back at him baring a rapidly forming key-shaped bruise.

'I don't exactly control it, they– They just sort of react.'

A day ago the wings hadn't protected him from unexpectedly thrown objects. They were getting stronger.

Or Chas was getting weaker.

John narrowed his eyes. 'What's your game Midnite?'

'That's dependent on your friend.'

'It's really him isn't it.'

'Hmm, you can be remarkably slow at times.'

'Always the gracious host,' said John under his breath, then louder, 'And I guess he's really.. One of them. Right?'

'It's hard to say what he is when you're in my way. But from here? I'd say he's power.'

John snorted in spite of himself.

'Yeah, he would love that.'

Was he speaking about a different person?

He wished now he'd talked to Gabriel, learned about her in a context other than how he could, (or couldn't), use her. If he'd taken an interest sooner they might not find themselves in such a stupid position now.

But he was John Constantine.

This was why people stayed in abusive relationships and jobs they hated; everything left a mark on you. There were no fresh starts, only absurd new directions.

Chas could attest to that now, even though he rarely saw things the way John did, much as he tried. It was why John had secretly believed Chas had a future and John didn't.

'You weren't affected when he died,' Midnite said, presumably to distract him as he sent another testing wave through the room, lower this time and it shuddered through John.

'It was a heavy week.'

Another shudder.

'It's counter-productive to shut me out Constantine, we want the same thing.'

'I highly doubt that.'

'Untamed power is a danger to us all, including your friend.'

The day Chas died was the same day John's mission ended. It was just poor planning that he had no idea what to fill his new life with. What was there for him anyway, drink until he killed himself all over again? He'd been fighting to avoid Hell, not to gain Heaven, campaigning for an extension only.

Fail to plan, plan to fail, as Chas would say.

He wondered wildly why no one had ever tried to walk him through this, and concluded that even if they had he wouldn't have listened. Maybe someone down the line had tried to help him. He'd probably told them to fuck off.

With a shift of his wings Chas woke up. John couldn't say why it made him hold his breath, so he just watched, not making a sound. He watched Chas' eyes flash in that unnerving way as they adjusted, watched as they fell to Angela and he immediately scrabbled over to her. When he saw that she was alive he relaxed, and held her head like he had at Ravenscar but with infinitely more care.

And John knew.

'I can't let you have them,' he said.

'And why not?'

A pause. 'You know why.'

'But I wonder if you do.'

Chas looked up at their voices.

'Chas?'

Chas didn't acknowledge him, gave no sign he noticed him, which was a first. He looked at the artefacts filling the room, which wasn't a first.

Then he came to John.

Chas crouched down in front of him, that earthy smell enveloping him, and only now did it occur to John that he wasn't injured. There was no visible reason he should have fallen unconscious. He looked..

The door pulsed again, pushing him forward and into Chas who seemed unsurprised. He smiled without opening his mouth, as if amused by John, very close now.

John saw his eyes were really closer to green than brown, hazel? Wasn't that the word for it?

He could feel the magic increase again, only now he didn't know where it was coming from.

'Chas..'

Chas shook his head.

He crossed the minuscule distance between them to run a hand through John's hair.

'John, don't worry..'

A final wave went through the room, strong enough that the pages of the many texts around them fluttered, low enough that John could feel his heart drop.

Chas was right in front of him. He was in touching distance.

John's eyes flickered to the smile playing on Chas' mouth, and in the moment before the rest of the world came rushing in there was just them; so leaning forward to meet that mouth, breathing deeply and feeling Chas kiss him back..

That was the last moment to make sense.

More to come. Thanks for reading!