simple twist of fate
by red-starshine
part thirteen: ball and chain
Buer, in Taylor's body, was breathing heavily, like a cornered animal. He was still tense, waiting for John's reaction.
"The angel?" said John quietly.
Buer gave a weak nod. "Nergal was...not pleased afterwards."
John sighed and then lifted his hand back up towards Chas and Buer. "Ut abire ex regno protinus," he said, and Chas could feel the power of the spell, mercilessly pulling at something inside the body he was holding down. Chas grunted and kept him restrained. He could feel the intense heat of the demon escape from Taylor's body. It was like plunging his arms into a metalworking forge.
The demon shrieked and flailed, Taylor's skin lighting up a faint orange, like a fire was burning inside of him. "We had a bargain, Constantine!" he shouted despite the smoke pouring out his mouth.
"Sod your bargain. I never said yes to it," growled John, staring down at Buer. "But do give the First my regards when you see him, will you?"
With a final scream of pure rage, Buer convulsed in a cloud of oily smoke before the human body he'd overtaken went limp. After a few seconds, Chas slowly released Taylor from the chokehold and let go of Taylor's hands from where he'd had them pinned to his back. Taylor coughed but remained unconscious, curled up on the tiled floor.
"He'll live," said John after a moment. "Demonic healing. He's extraordinarily lucky, but Christ, what a moron – there's only several thousand ways that could've gone bad. Buer would've disemboweled every man, woman and child inside this building in under an hour once that kid's soul was out of the way."
Taylor was a fairly small man, and Chas was able to drag him over to the bed and lift him into it without much trouble. "Do you think it's true?" he asked.
"What's true?" said John.
Chas stared at him tiredly, not buying that one for a second. "What Buer said about Astra."
"Demons are notorious liars," said John with a shrug. "Goes with their whole 'being evil' shtick. Perhaps Buer just wanted to mess around with me head. Wouldn't be the first time."
Chas remained quiet as he drew the covers up over Taylor's chest. "I dunno. He sounded pretty convincing."
"Well, he's had millennia to practice," said John. "The best con man in the world could look you right in the eye and tell you the most blatant lie, and you'd believe it."
Taylor stirred on the bed, letting out a low moan. He slowly opened his eyes.
"Hey, you okay?" said Chas.
"Water," croaked Taylor.
Chas looked around. There was a small plastic pitcher and cup on the table near the bed, and he gave Taylor the cup after filling it with water.
Taylor took the cup and greedily guzzled it down, his eyes wide as they nervously flitted between Chas and John.
"Uh, how're you feeling?" asked Chas after Taylor had emptied the cup. After Buer had healed his body, he appeared to be fine, not at all like a man who'd been at death's door less than half an hour ago.
"Fine?" said Taylor, shrinking into the pillow. "Who are you guys and what're you doing in my room? You don't look like doctors."
John scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Are you bloody serious? You've just been inexplicably healed from injuries that by all rights should've killed you stone dead and that's the first question you ask?" he said, looming over Taylor. "Stupid git. I've got half a mind to take your rubbish soul anyway."
Taylor stared up at John, completely unfazed by his tirade. "Did you break out of the psychiatric ward? Do you need me to call someone?"
"Christ, I don't have the time for this," said John in irritation. He thrust two fingers against Taylor's forehead. "Sleep," he commanded.
Taylor's eyes rolled back and he fell back onto the hospital bed limply, his mouth hanging open.
John stood over the bed for a terse moment, and then sighed, shaking his head. "There. Hopefully he'll convince himself that was all a dream when he wakes up again," he said to Chas, opening the door leading out into the ICU's hallway. "Although I have no idea how his doctors are going to explain his, er, rather miraculous recovery from the brink of death."
"Huh. Does it still count as a miracle if a demon did it?" said Chas, making sure the heavy door shut quietly behind him.
John shrugged. "A miracle's a miracle no matter who did it, demon or angel. That alone is going to keep Buer out of the First of the Fallen's good graces for a very, very long time." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring of keys for the House of Mystery and sniggered slightly. "Least I shouldn't have to worry about that bugger popping out of Hell with revenge on his mind anytime soon."
John stopped in front of the supply closet again, moving out of the way of a harried-looking nurse carrying a laptop. He quickly unlocked the door leading back to the House and pushed it open. "After you, mate," he said, removing the key from the lock.
Chas crossed the threshold, walking towards the table.
"Oi, Chas! Look sharp!" John called.
Chas turned around just in time to see something shiny and jangling fly towards him. He automatically raised his hands and caught it against his chest. It took him a moment to realize what it was: the ring of keys to the House of Mystery.
Chas looked up, puzzled. "John, wh-"
John was still standing in the doorway, his hand on the doorknob. He looked tired and resigned. "I'm sorry for gettin' you mixed up in all this." He slammed the door shut.
"John!" Chas bellowed, rushing back towards the House's door. He threw it open.
On the other side of the door was a beautiful Georgia morning.