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Magic Can't Solve Everything

Summary:

Zed is content with spending the rest of her life with Jim Corrigan, but when John shows up at their doorstep in New Orleans injured and unwell, the old Hellblazer gang might be in for a few more unwelcome surprises. Major John Constantine whump, because why not?

Notes:

Jim was supporting a very injured Constantine. He was huffing in painful gasps as he held onto multiple bleeding wounds for dear life. He managed to glance up to stare at her. When he saw her terrified expression, he tried to go for a smile, which ended up being more of a grimace.

“Right luv, how are you? Don't mean to intrude, but can I stay here for the night?”

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Zed knew that choosing to stay with Jim had been a good idea. He'd wake her up with a sweet peck on the cheek, and then he'd go downstairs to make breakfast for the two of them.

She really didn't deserve him.

He was so sweet, and pure. He always knew what she was thinking, when she needed space or when she wanted to talk. He never pressured her, and always let her go at her own pace.

When she made the decision to live with him, he even cleared up his guest room to give her an artist studio to work. She didn't think it was possible he could get any better.

So yes, she told herself, this had been the right choice.

Now all she had to do was make her conscience agree with her.

Nothing could stop her from feeling guilty. Maybe she could convince herself that this was best for her, but then the sad look John had given her the first time he witnessed her kissing Jim would always come to haunt her.

Maybe the look wasn't exactly sad. It was a mixture of regret, and relief.

She knew John thought he poisoned anyone that came in contact with him. And because she never knew how many people John had actually lost, she couldn't allow herself to say she knew what he was going through.

She never really believed his bold claims about the people he'd killed.

Until she saw what happened to Gary Lester.

It wasn't John's fault. He never would have done it if there'd been a second option. But it opened her mind to the horrors John witnessed, the pain he'd endured.

And because John was afraid of putting the people he loved at risk, he pushed them away, hurting himself in the process. She knew from Chas that the first couple of weeks she hung around them, John was against her joining the team for that reason exactly.

So maybe that was why he hadn't called, or visited, or even said anything to her since he saw her kiss Jim. Because he wanted her to build a life for herself, far away from John Constantine.

If that was the case, she wanted to smack him just for thinking about it.

Except she couldn't because he wouldn't even call to say hi.

So she went on, day by day, feeling safe and secure with Jim, while the heavy burden of guilt weighed her down. But it only took him a week to realize something was bothering her. And carefully, gently, he asked her, and everything became clear.

“So you're worried about him.”

She threw her arms up in frustration. “Of course I'm worried about him! The last time I saw him was almost a month ago! I haven't heard from him since!”

She knew she was probably overreacting, but as usual when it came to John Constantine, you could never be too sure. Jim seemed to understand this, because he took her hand comfortingly.

“Do you have any idea why he hasn't called you lately?”

She sighed. “I don't know. Chas saw him a couple of times, and told me he was fine when I asked.”

A puzzled look appeared on Jim's face. It was adorable, and Zed was fighting off a smile. “If you know he's okay, why are you worried?”

“Because the last time I saw him, he looked really pissed.”

Even though the conversation wasn't making much sense, Jim was still patient with her. “Where, exactly, was the last place you saw him?”

This time, Zed couldn't stop the guilt boiling in the pit of her stomach. She stared at the floor.

“Zed?”

Oh well. He deserved to know anyway.

“The last time I saw him was in the bar in New Orleans, when we kissed for the first time.”

Jim took it pretty well. “Was he really that mad? I thought there was nothing going on between you two.”

Zed laughed. “He wasn't mad about that, Jim. I told you, there was never anything going on between us.” She sighed again, feeling worse then she had in days. She knew telling Jim would probably lessen her burden, but that didn't mean it would be easy.

“You know John has trust issues. I can't blame him. His father accused him of being his mother's murderer before he was five minutes old. He was abused, and his only escape was the occult magic he dedicated himself to.”

She took a deep breath. Jim was listening intently. Looking at his face, she wondered if this was the right thing to do. John had a right to his privacy, and she knew sharing his past was the last thing he wanted.

But on the other hand, the heavy feeling pooling in her stomach was ripping her apart. And she knew she could trust Jim with anything.

“John doesn't allow himself to have people who care about him because he's terrified that what he does will endanger them. And the truth, Jim? He's right. People have died, because they got dragged into the mess he's buried himself into. Chas is probably the only person he actually trusts deep down.”

She knew it was a lot to process. Jim knew John Constantine was a complicated person. It just came with the job. But suffering this much? He didn't know how he dealt with it.

Zed continued with her narrative. “So he pushes people away. He'd rather be alone for the rest of his life then send them down to hell with him.”

Jim almost shuddered. He'd heard about this part, from John himself, muttering about it darkly while swigging from a beer bottle.

He knew Zed was done talking. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, the warm weight soothing against the tension invading her muscles.

“It's not your fault, you know. None of this is.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

His face brightened. “I have an idea!”

Before she registered what was happening, he was picking her up and carrying her to the living room.

She yelped as she bounced around in his arms. He laughed like a madman, a grin stretching his face.

Finally he set her down, gently placing her on the couch. He gave her the remote and gestured towards the TV. “Pick something to watch. I'll be back in a sec with the popcorn.”

Before she could object, he was gone.

Seven hours, three Jurassic Park movies and various snacks later, she was cuddled up to Jim on the couch, a blanket wrapped around the two of them. She sighed happily and he smiled softly.

They were contemplating whether to summon the energy to walk upstairs to the bedroom or just fall asleep on the couch when the doorbell rang. It was so jarring in the middle of the peaceful night that they both jumped when they heard it.

She exchanged looks with Jim. Who on Earth could be at their door at this hour?

She was about to get up to answer it when Jim stopped her. “I'll get it, don't worry.” She almost melted when he pecked her on the forehead before he left.

He went to answer it, reaching the door. From her seat on the couch, Zed didn't hear the doorbell ringing anymore. She began to wonder if the person at the door was still there when she heard Jim open the door.

From there all she heard was his gasp of surprise and then mingled cursing.

She got up to run, fearing the worst. The minute she was off the couch, she heard him call her name, filled with panic and dread.

The scene she found wasn't one she was likely to forget for a while.

Jim was supporting a very injured Constantine. He was huffing in painful gasps as he held onto multiple bleeding wounds for dear life. He managed to glance up to stare at her. When he saw her terrified expression, he tried to go for a smile, which ended up being more of a grimace.

“Right luv, how are you? Don't mean to intrude, but can I stay here for the night?”

She nodded without thinking, he looked so pathetic.

“Great. Thanks Jim, I'm pretty sure I can walk by myself.”

His tone was light and carefree, but his features hardened as he shrugged Jim off. Unfortunately, the second he tried to stand without help, he almost fell. She was glad his hand snagged the hand railing before he hit the floor.

Jim moved to help him back onto his feet, but as soon as he extended his arm towards John, the blond warlock flinched violently, almost as if he wanted to curl up and protect himself. It was taking all of his willpower not to strike out, Zed could tell.

Sadly, she wondered what could have made him react so suddenly. But before she could fully understand the state her friend was in, his mask was back up, displaying an easy grin and careful eyes. They were all familiar with this John Constantine, the one who never backed down, never let himself have a moment of vulnerability. She sighed.

John brushed off his flinch like it was nothing. Honestly, she should have expected that. He waved away their attempts to help him, and hobbled to their living room. He was about to sink onto the couch, when his eyes took in the scene in front of him.

Zed knew exactly what had made him stop and change his mind so suddenly, snacks, the tv remote and warm throw blanket were occupying the sofa space, clear remnants of their cozy movie night displayed in full view. A sharp stab of guilt hit her for a second. Why was she allowed to be so safe and happy when John had injuries to deal with alone?

He turned to face them again, but instead of looking at them, he stared at the floor. “Nevermind luv. I think I’ll just take a shower and be on my merry way.”

Zed was about to protest. John looked like he’d been through hell and back. He was pale, with dark smudges under his eyes. He was also skinnier than usual. She could tell because she could see his shirt was barely hanging onto his frame.

Actually, when she focused on his shirt and the rest of his clothes, she saw they were coated with something black, foul and greasy. She knew it was probably in his hair as well. She realized why he asked for a shower before he hit the road.

She swallowed her protest, John looked tired enough already. Pointing down the hallway, she said, “The bathroom is down the hall to the right. I’ll have a fresh change of clothes out for you when you're finished.”

John opened his mouth, then looked down at himself and nodded. His expression was relieved, an argument obviously didn't seem to be his forte right now. He lumbered to the bathroom, and they watched him go. It was then that she realized he was limping, hardly putting weight on his left foot. There were blood stains dotting his shirt, and she was pretty sure they looked fresh.

She tried to swallow past the lump building in her throat. Jim wrapped his arms around her, and she knew without looking at him that that concern was dominating his features.

“He’s going to be okay, Zed. You know that, right?”

She nodded, knowing she was lying to herself. Would anything ever be okay? She knew John was going to end up in hell. Chas didn’t like talking about it, which was understandable. But she’d heard John mutter about it darkly, sometimes even grinning, when he was nursing a drink or ten.

She sighed. “I’m going to get towels. Do you have spare clothes that’ll fit him?”

Jim nodded. “Yeah probably. Give me a sec.” he smiled at her as he left, pausing to peck her on the cheek first.

By then she could hear the water running and John’s hiss of relief when he let the hot water overload his senses. She sighed and sadly wondered how long it had been since he’d had a proper hot shower.

She left the towels outside the bathroom door, where it couldn’t be missed. Jim had already laid out a sweater and jeans. She snorted and dimly wondered what he would look like wearing them. She hadn’t seen him wearing anything but his usual white shirt, tie and traditional trench coat. Well, it couldn’t be any worse than seeing him naked and covered in pig’s blood.

 

___________________________________

 

 

The hot water was blissful. It sunk into his stiff muscles, breaking down the thick shield that was John Constantine. He leaned against the shower tiles, warmed from the steam oozing from the showerhead above him. It drifted aimlessly in the shower, making shapes around him. Dimly, he tried to form pictures out of the steam.

A useless task, he knew, but it was better than keeling over in the shower.

He was so tired, and the hot water was cocooning him in warmth, making it hard to think straight. He never wanted to come here in the first place, but he knew he needed it. There was nowhere else to go, and besides this place, the only place left was the hospital.

He shuddered at the thought.

His earliest memory of the hospital was when he was ten. It had been a particularly bad day. Cheryl had settled him down in their tiny bedroom upstairs, trying and failing to coax him to sleep. When the door opened and slammed abruptly, his eyes widened. Cheryl ran to the window and peered through the curtain, the smile falling off her face.

There was always a day or two when their father had left for the pub and not come back for a day or two. Those were the days that the siblings got a reprieve from Tom’s rages. They were hoping that would happen today, but apparently not.

John shivered despite the heat in the shower, the memory overwhelming him. It's been awhile since he’d thought about that particular day. A long while.

Cheryl trying to calm him. Him slamming her aside like a fly. Her small trembling form on the floor. He was mad.

So, very, very, mad.

John shivered in his memories, he shivered in the shower. He remembered audibly what he had tried to do when he was younger, that first and last time.

He snapped himself out of it. Now, the present, was the only time that mattered. Not old, useless memoirs of his broken, battered childhood. He shook his head, water flying from his scalp. As he tuned back into the world around him, he dimly realized there was still the foul black stuff coating the inside of his hair. He scowled with disgust and reached for the shampoo.

He had know idea what the stuff was. The creature he’d tried to send back to hell had writhed and screamed as it was forced into the portal, but that was expected. What wasn’t, was the black stuff that shot out of the portal at the same time as the creature had wrenched free from John’s spell and escaped.

John had never seen anything like it. Never had a monster or demon been able to resist the spell used to take them back to hell. Heck, up until now, he’d thought it was impossible. And the black goo. What was it? He assumed it had to do with the rising darkness. Almost everything did, nowadays.

It was foul, greasy, and smelled worse than hot tar. If he hadn’t been so tired, he probably would have taken a sample back with him to the Mill House to check it out.

It didn't matter anymore, and John had the feeling he’d come to contact with the mysterious substance sooner or later again.

He rubbed the sweet-smelling soap into his blond locks, the water slowly turning black under his feet as he got it off. Unfortunately, the soap was lavender-based. He wouldn’t usually care, but when Chas got back from visiting his daughter, he’d wonder what delayed him, and would notice the smell when he got back. He would have known that whatever happened with the creature, it’d been bad enough to make John camp somewhere overnight. It left very little proof if he wanted to lie about how badly he was hurt.

John snorted fondly, Chas was perceptive that way.

He rinsed the soap and turned off the water, knowing he couldn’t stay here for very long. He washed out his stinging cuts and gently washed over his bruises. They’d probably need bandages, but that could wait. He grabbed the fresh towel and dried off, grabbing the clothes Jim had left out for him.

He grimaced. There was a sweater and a pair of jeans. They looked like they were the right size, but it irked him to be wearing what he knew was definitely Jim’s clothing. That, and he knew what the reaction would be when he came out wearing this. It wasn’t something he’d be caught dead in.

However, his traditional white shirt, black pants, tie and trench coat, were nowhere to be found. Knowing Zed, she had probably done him a favor and tossed them into the wash. He glared sullenly at the sweater as he dragged it towards him.

There was a first time for everything.

 

 

__________________________________________________

 

 

“I haven’t heard a single noise coming from the bathroom in ages, Jim! Nothing but running water.”

Jim smiled at her, she was cute when she was worried. “He’ll be fine. What do you think could happen to him in the shower anyway?”

“He could be wondering why the two blokes chatting so nicely about him weren’t doing it more quietly.”

They spun around, like two guilty children stealing something. But they were met with John’s easy grin, and laid-back expression. Even more surprising, he was dressed casually, in the sweater and jeans they’d left out for him.

He looked different, anyone with eyes could notice that much, but it was more than that. With his blond locks freshly washed and the lack of the trench coat that always made him look like he was on the move, he almost looked younger, more vulnerable.

However, that didn’t change the fact that his skin was still paler then normal and he had shadows under his eyes.

“Stop staring at me.” He complained, breaking through her reverie. “I don’t like these clothes anymore then you do.” He looked expectantly at Zed. “well, Luv? Where are they?”

She crossed her arms. “They’re in the wash. They were covered in this weird black goo.”

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his tired face. “Yeah, still trying to figure out what the hell that stuff was.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Zed’s eyes were widening. “What happened out there, John?”

John’s eyes flitted back and forth between her and Jim. “It doesn’t matter. I did say I’d take a shower and hit the road.”

Zed held her ground. “Yeah, you did. But, unfortunately for you, we still have your clothes in the wash. They still have about half-an hour to go. And I don’t really think you’d leave that trench coat anywhere without your supervision.” She smirked.

He glared daggers at her. She returned his stare, not backing down.

Jim cleared his throat. “John, you look terrible. Some food and rest wouldn’t hurt, right?”

John groaned. “Not you too, mate. I’m fine, and thanks for the shower, but I really have to be going now.”

Zed grabbed her phone and waved it in the air threateningly. “I still have Chas’s number, John. Don’t make me call him.”

Damn.

He should have known Zed wouldn’t back down. Calling Chas, she knew just what buttons to push to get him to do what she wanted.

So he followed her, albeit sulkily, towards the kitchen. Jim trailed behind, looking uncertain. If John had been in a better mood, he probably would have laughed at the look on his face. The kitchen was cozy-looking, warm and close-knit.

Yeah, as if Zed would be stupid enough to leave a place like this.

The stubborn voice wouldn’t leave him alone. Too late, he realized he was clenching his fists hard enough to leave marks, and Zed was staring at him worriedly.

That did it. John knew he had to pick up the pace, get out of here as fast as he could. He still had bad feelings about the creature he’d left behind, he needed to see what he could do to catch it again. Come to think about it, he probably had an old book about it back in the Mill House, he could keep up with some reading-

“John?”

Jim’s voice brought him back from his string of musings, the pair of them had evidently been calling his name while he was thinking. Crap. He was going to have to start paying attention if he was planning on ditching this group later.

He shot them one of his signature smirks. “Yeah, what?”

Zed motioned to two steaming bowls on the kitchen table. They both smelled delicious, and even he knew his usually uncooperative stomach wouldn't disagree with this meal.

He waved his hand dismissively. “Anything will do, luv.”

She ladled what looked like a thick stew into a bowl for him, Jim pouring water from a jug into several glasses.

They really did make a good couple, John mused. Working together without talking, harmonious in their actions. It was like they didn’t even need words to communicate, just simple touches and light glances.

He shoved a spoonful of stew into his mouth to stop himself from staring. What was this feeling? Was he jealous? He knew no matter who he ended up loving, there would be no chance for even a semi-stable relationship.

Whatever the reason, the stew was definitely a welcome distraction. It was creamy and rich, full of vegetables and savory meat. For the next twenty minutes, there wasn’t a sound to be heard except the clattering of spoons and forks. John couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a home-cooked meal. Between cases and he’s own destructive behavior, Chas could barely get him to eat as it was.

He was finishing off his second bowl when Jim was reaching over to grab the bowl of stew and knocked over a glass of water on the table. The glass fell to the floor and shattered, water sloshing on the varnished wood.

He didn't know if it was the sound of the glass hitting or the water droplets dripping from the table to the floor jarring him back to bad memories.

He could dimly register Zed and Jim cleaning up the mess, one of them grabbing paper towels, the other, he thinks it was Zed, warning them about the broken glass. He could feel reality washing away somehow, and soon cold, bare tiles were replacing the cozy wood floors, leaving his insides feel distorted and nauseous.

The broken glass was like a beacon on the tiles, he couldn't force himself to look away. Or maybe, it was all he could look at, anything was better than the terrified look on his sister's face. Tom Constantine was looming over her like some sort of snake, his features tight and coiled, ready to strike out.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!? I never raised you to be so clumsy, did I?" rage clouded his face when she refused to answer him. Her lip was trembling, she could barely look him in the eye. "Talk to me when I'm speaking to you!" he roared, slamming her aside with her fists. She fell to her knees.

John felt so lost and vulnerable. He hated the feeling, his control yanked out from under him without giving him time to breathe, time to think. He sat up in frustration and fear and made one of the worst mistakes of his childhood.

"Leave her alone!" he screamed at his bastard of a father. For a second, there was silence, thick as smoke, filling the room. Tom turned to him slowly. John could barely swallow, he was so scared. He looked at his sister, huddled on the floor, for comfort.

Her eyes met his blue ones, and he could feel her terror like a blow to his heart. He had never seen her so frightened, it had never gotten this bad, how on earth had it gotten this bad-

His thoughts were interrupted by his dad's voice. Unlike before, his voice was calm, almost steady.

"So the killer finally grew a spine."

John shivered. Tom glared at him. "If your mother was still alive, she'd want me to kill you for the suffering you've caused us."

Cheryl let out a broken sob from the floor. Tom paid her no heed. "Lucky for you, I'll give you the next best thing."

He wasted no time, lunging at his son and pummeling ever bit of him he could reach. Cheryl sobbed harder from the floor and John was in so much pain from the blows he barely had time to scream. He struggled for the first three hits, one each to his stomach, face and thigh. The pain was intense and sharp, ripping through his body like fire-

"John! John, what's wrong?"

He shuddered back to the present, and it took him about three minutes to realize he'd subconsciously raised his hands to protect his face from invisible blows.

He felt like cursing himself. His blurry vision focused on Jim and Zed, their worried faces mimicking the horrified one on his sister's all those years ago.

"What happened? We were cleaning up the glass and you turned white for a minute or two. We couldn't shake you out of it. " Jim explained.

Zed put her hand on his shoulder and he flinched from the sudden contact. She looked scared for a second, then found her voice again. "John, you have to tell us what's going on! You're freaking us out."

The Warlock took a shuddering breath. Her anxious voice was too similar to his sister's and he couldn't risk his train of thought derailing anymore. He counted to five before he dared to look up. And just as he expected, he was met with Zed’s questioning gaze. He sat back in his chair and folded his arms.

“Oh, does the interrogation start now?” he asked coolly.

“Cut the bullshit John.” He was almost shocked by how fiery her words were. Seeing him banged up must have affected her more than she let on. " Something happened that's making you freak out at every touch, and we know something went wrong on one of your cases, you never would have stopped by otherwise.”

He caught exactly what she wasn’t saying. Because you haven’t stopped by in months anyway.

He swallowed. “Zed, nothing happened. Yeah, I might have had a mishap getting this creature to hell, but when don’t I? There are always complications in cases like mine, they happen all the time. You should know that.”

Zed threw up her hands. “Okay, but if you know the case would be difficult, why didn’t you call for backup? Where was Chas?”

John groaned in exasperation. “Chas is away visiting his daughter for a day or two. Did you really want me to spoil that for him?”

“Guys, calm down. This isn’t actually a big deal, John’s fine.” Both of them had almost forgot Jim had been in the room.

John turned to Zed. “See? He agrees with me! Nothing went wrong, I’m fine, and I actually kind of want to leave now, luv.”

Jim turned to the warlock. “That doesn’t mean Zed’s wrong, John. You were hurt when you got here, you're freaking us out, and all she wants is for you to be safe, and maybe explain what happened out there.”

John rounded on him. “Who’s side are you on, mate?”

The tension in the room had reached its peak, and everybody knew they weren’t getting anywhere with their argument.

The once-hot stew was still sitting on the table. John knew he wasn’t the only one who didn’t feel like eating now. Zed glared at him. “Can you at least tell us what kind of creature it was?”

John sighed. “It was a nasty brute. A-”

But that was as far as the warlock got, because just then a huge roar interrupted him. All three of them glanced outside worredly.

Jim was the first to break the silence. “What the hell was that thing?”

Zed shook her head. “It sounded like some sort of bear or something.”

Just as suddenly as before, they all watched in horror as some massive thing scraped against one of the windows. They all saw the visible claw marks defacing the window.

John swore. He quickly drew the curtains over the window, then hurriedly turned to Zed and Jim. That’s a Pamola. It’s the creature I was trying to send to hell.”

Zed arched her eyebrows. “Tried to?”

John groaned. “The bastard must have followed me here! Do you realize why I didn’t want to stay?”

Jim cut him off. “We can’t argue about that now. We have to figure out what we can do to get rid of the thing.”

John almost laughed. “We can’t get rid of it, mate. I need it in a secluded spot if I’m going to send it to hell, I can’t do it here. Our only hope is to out-wait the damn thing. He stared nervously outside. “It’s a good thing it’s the middle of the night. It there were people outside right now, he’d have a feast for himself.”

Zed shuddered. “Will it leave before daylight?”

John shrugged. “Pamola’s usually don’t prefer sunlight. But if there’s a meal waiting for them, they can be stubborn.”

Another loud roar and crash startled the three of them, making them jump. Another set of claws raked against the front door. John turned to Zed.

“Quick luv. Where’s my bag?”

Zed ran for where she left it, next to the washing machine with the rest of his clothes. She ran back, almost throwing it at him in her haste. The warlock rummaged through it frantically.

His body ached fiercely when he bent over, and he had to bite back a groan. Not bandaging his wounds earlier was looking like a mistake he would regret soon.

He came up with a couple of pieces of chalk and a bottle of holy water. He started with the chalk first, drawing white lines in front of all the entrances. He cursed and jumped backwards when he saw claws scraping for him from under one of the doors.

He drew over the windows too. After he was done, he stood up and chanted, spreading his arms wide. All of the white lines simultaneously glowed, and then faded back to their ordinary white. He met up with the others.

He tossed a bottle each to Zed and Jim. “Douse yourself with these. The chalk provides us with a natural border against the Pamola so it can’t get in. If it does though”, he warned, “the holy water is the only that will stop it from ripping you to pieces, so use it well.”

The three of them covered themselves in holy water as more roars and growls emerged from outside. “Why does it sound louder now?” Jim asked.

“It’s getting angrier. It’s probably sensed the chalk by now, and the bastard’s pissed that we’re keeping him out”, John answered.

The house shook suddenly, the windows rattling violently. John rubbed his temples wearily.

“I never should have come here in the first place.”

Zed shook her head. You were hurt, John. where else were you supposed to go?”

The warlock sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I knew something was wrong. I’ve been tracking this thing for days, I finally got it cornered yesterday, but when I tried to send it to hell it wrenched free and ran off. That’s never happened before. I should have realized the rising darkness was involved and gone after it.”

Jim studied the man in front of him. “John, when was the last time you slept?”

Zed knew exactly why he was asking. John was looking worse and worse by the minute. His hair was rumpled, his eyes tired, his face pale.

"Look, mate, we've got bigger problems to worry about at the moment." John snapped, pointing outside.

As if to punctuate the warlock's statement, a loud growl made the house shake around them as the Pamola grew angrier by the minute.

"Okay, fine. We'll all go crazy if we just wait in here for this thing to get us." Jim said. "I'll take the car and drive it away from here."

Zed looked like she wanted to shake him by the shoulders. "Are you crazy?! The thing will tear you apart before you get in the car!"

Jim looked like he was about to argue, when John broke in. "She's right, mate. Pamola's are fast bastards. You'd never make it."

Jim threw his hands up in the air. "What do we do then? I really don't think that thing's going to leave at daylight. What happens when it sees the street full of people waking up?"

John rubbed his hands together. "I actually think I have a solution to that problem. I can whip up a sleep spell that might keep everybody indoors for a while."

Zed posed the question first."How long?"

The warlock shrugged. "Depends. I can usually keep it up for three or four days with a couple of people. But with a whole neighborhood? I can promise you maybe a day and a half."

"That'll have to do." Zed said, with a determined look on her face.

“Alright then.” John opened his bag once more, taking out various bottles, small bags and sheets of paper. Eventually, he found the one he was looking for and held it up triumphantly. Zed could see two bottles and some paper clutched into his fists.

He chanted fiercely, mixing the two bottles together, finally draining the contents in his open mouth. He winced at the taste but continued chanting until his eyes glowed their signature white. The chanting reached a momentum, and then it was over. There was no magic sparkle, no booming sound.

The warlock had a satisfied smile on his face. “Done. That should do the trick.”

To Zed, it looked like the magic had taken a lot out of John, but when he waved her concerns aside, she knew it wasn’t worth arguing. They had bigger problems to worry about anyway. The growls and shrieks from outside were punctuating her thoughts.

Jim shook his head. “Can you at least give us some information about that thing? What’s it capable of?”

Pamola’s are masters at hypnotism. They have other powers, but that’s the one we have to worry most about.” he gestured at the windows, shielded by the curtains. “That’s why I blocked the windows. If you stare ‘em in the eyes, there’s no stopping him. He’ll have free access into the house.”

The trio shuddered at the thought. The shrieks from outside were deafening by now, and Zed knew that the only thing stopping people from piling onto the street was John’s sleep spell. She hoped it lasted long enough.

It was already 3 am by then, but thankfully, the waves of dawn hadn’t made an appearance yet. They still had some time to form a makeshift plan.

“So what do we do?”

The warlock shrugged. “You’re guess is as good as mine, mate. The only thing I can think of is getting that thing the hell away from here. I can’t exorcise it in a crowded neighborhood.”

Jim sighed in exasperation. “We get that, John. But letting you drive it away alone would kill you for sure."

Zed cut in, flinging car keys in Jim's direction. "Then we're not letting you go alone. Simple as that."

She crossed her arms defiantly, and he wanted to yell out in frustration at her stubbornness. Instead, he took the keys from her hand and started for the back door, mouth set in a grim line.

Jim followed the two of them purposely, and he had to give it to the guy, most people would have started screaming by now.

The Pamola was nowhere to be found, Zed and Jim were obviously relieved. John was uneasy though. He knew the Pamola had been confident about getting a meal, even with the approaching sunlight. It knew it had them trapped, why the hell had it fled? Besides, he thought, he preferred a monster he could see instead of an invisible one.

He kept his face free of concern nonetheless. He knew it had been awhile since Zed and Jim had done something like this, and he didn't want to scare them so early in the game.

He swung the car door open and hauled his body into the front seat, barely concealing a groan when his abused body protested the movement. Jim looked like he wanted to say something for a minute, maybe offer to drive, but an ear piercing cry suddenly shook the air.

The pamola was staring at them through the car, and despite everything John had ever gone through, he still felt a chill when the creature stared him in the eyes. Eyes. He was forgetting something, wasn't he? What had he been thinking about? Something about the eyes. Gold eyes woven in with black, the patterns were mesmerizing, God his head was foggy, what the hell was going on-

He snapped out of his daze with a yell. Bloody hypnotism, how the fuck did her forget? The Pamola was attempting to pry the car apart while Zed and Jim were glassy-eyed.

He shook Zed's shoulder frantically, praying she'd wake up faster.

"John? Wh-what's going on?"

John breathed a sigh of relief. "Bout' time you woke up, luv. Wake up Jim, we have to get out of here."

She nodded and started shaking Jim's shoulders, while the blonde warlock jammed the key into the ignition. The loud start of the car sounded like a bullet in the deserted street, and the Pamola shrieked along with it.

John gritted his teeth, the combination of noise mixed with the recent hypnotism was seriously giving him a headache. The car jolted forward and the warlock breathed a sigh of relief when the Pamola lost its grip on the car.

Finally, they were making progress. He hated staying at the house, doing nothing made his skin crawl. He swung around to look behind them and just like he'd hoped, the Pamola hadn't given up. It was determinedly following the car, and at this rate, he might be able to lead it somewhere secluded enough where he could banish it properly.

If. His brain taunted. If you can banish it.

He just hoped he had enough strength to keep the sleeping spell working, he didn't know how much longer he could hold out. He was mentally and physically exhausted, the only good thing about this situation was that it kept him from thinking about his flashback. Images of Cheryl hunched over on the floor of their crappy apartment in Liverpool were flickering incessantly between his eyes. He shook his head, annoyed. He didn't have time to deal with this right now.

The Pamola's increased shrieking ripped him thoroughly out of his thoughts. If he hadn't looked towards the back of the car, he could almost forget that he had passengers. Zed had stopped shaking Jim's shoulders, the man's eyes were glazed but open.

No wonder Chas never lets me drive the cab, he thought sarcastically, as the car jolted harshly at a right turn. He realized his mistake quickly, there was no way he could drive the car any further this way, if he passed the oncoming intersection, who knew how many people they'd cross paths with?

Zed looked at him from the backseat, terror plain on her face, and his stomach twisted with guilt. He made a promise to himself after how happy he'd seen her look in New Orleans. That he would leave her alone, finally let her have a normal and safe life. Just get them out of this horrible mess you created, then you can really leave them alone for good, he promised himself.

"Hold on tight, luv. This is going to be rough", he warned, and Jim nodded as he wrapped his arms tightly against Zed.

He turned his attention to the Pamola, who was gaining speed. He never prayed, but God dammit he hoped this worked.

He pulled the car sharply off the road, the wheels departing the asphalt with a sickening hiss. The grass was wet and slippery with morning dew, and no matter how many times he'd whined about not being allowed to drive the cab, he knew he'd sacrifice his trench coat to have Chas with him to drive for once.

"John!" Jim screamed out, he was literally bouncing in his seat from the car's fierce vibrations. "Slow the fuck down, you're going to kill us!"

"Oh, and wait for that thing to eat us?!" he yelled back, jerking his hand at the Pamola.

Zed interrupted them, and probably for good reason, because the warlock had driven them off the road and through a forest clearing.

"Guys, maybe not the best time right now!" she shouted. John narrowly avoided a patch of trees, his breathing erratic and his palms sweaty. He knew that taking them off the road had been a good idea. The abrupt change of direction had confused the Pamola, and probably brought them a couple of minutes to gain some distance. The fact that the clearing was deserted helped as well. On the otherhand, he knew he'd be a fool to think he could go any further, he was going to have to get out of this fucking car and start the damn exorcism already.

What's going on, John?

Chas's voice was so clear in his exhausted head. But Chas was right. If this had been any other case, any other simple exorcism job, he would have already fucked his chances and got rid of the creature already. What on earth was he waiting for?

He didn't need to look back to see the terrified faces to get his answer.

Dammit, Constantine. You're getting soft.

He couldn't stop the car. Stopping the car meant endangering Jim, endangering Zed, the very people he vowed to leave alone and never drag into sinkholes like the rising darkness. He gritted his teeth. This was his fault. He would fix this somehow.

Suddenly, with determination, he pressed his foot on the brake pedal, cutting the gas and stopping the car for good.

"John?" Jim asked, voice almost calm. "Don't do anything stupid."

The Warlock flashed him his signature smirk. "Can't make any promises, mate."

He turned around fully to face them, ignoring the roars that signified the Pamola's rapid approach. He clasped one of his hands in Zed's, and placed the other on Jim's shoulder.

"Sorry about this. But I'm getting you guys out of this mess if it kills me", he declared, letting them go to grab his faithful bag under the car seat.

He rummaged around frantically, going through each object and bottle hurriedly. He knew Zed and Jim were both confused, and he had to act fast before they caught on to what he was planning on doing.

Or if the Pamola caught up with them first, either way.

Thankfully, he found what he was looking for, two round, smooth objects, pale as milk that smelled sharply of incense.

"What the hell are you doing, John?", Zed asked worriedly.

"Something good, I hope, luv." he replied, his voice confident despite the fact that he was pretty sure his hands were trembling uncontrollably. He ignored it though, and distracted himself by carving something on the white objects with a curved implement, covered in symbols.

The Pamola had reached the car by now, and was once more shaking it, trying to make his way inside. John could only hope his carvings were eligible, or this would never work.

He pressed the objects into Zed and Jim's hands, one each. He stared at them in the eyes fiercely, leaving no room for argument. "Just take these and trust me, okay?"

They nodded, no questions asked.

Dammit, they were really going to hate him for this.

And like countless other times in his life, he blocked out the world and started chanting. He turned to the occult once more, his life's work, exactly like he'd done when he was running from his father, when Astra happened, when he'd needed to save Chas or Zed numerous times before.

His words were loud, distinct and cutting through the cold air around them. It turned the air electric, made the adrenaline in John's body vibrate with delicious energy.

It was times like this when he knew his profession wasn't completely useless, and that it didn't have to always bring devastating loss and heartbreak. That dedicating his life, his entire being, hadn't been a total waste in the end.

The expression on Zed's face just before she disappeared was almost enough to remind him of his sister, huddled on the floor in Liverpool, not sad and defeated, but the terrified look she had when she realized her younger brother was attempting to protect her, and that he was willing to hurt himself for her safety.

"JOHN, NO!"

He grinned sadly at her, and at Jim. "Take care of her for me, mate. And tell Chas I'll be home soon."

Home.

Thinking of the Mill House sent a pang of loneliness through his system. If he ever came out of this alive, Chas would kill him for sure.

He forced himself to look away as their figures were swept away with his magic, his chanting taking them away to safety. He tried to erase their looks of shock from his memory, it made him feel strangely guilty for deceiving them. It was technically for their own good though, he reasoned.

His musings were ripped away from him as the Pamola sunk it's claws once more into the car. He winced.

Yeah, he still needed to deal with that.

 

__________________________________________________

 

The sudden rush of magic was making her dizzy. She could dimly feel Jim by her side, a strong, comforting weight to anchor herself with. She had no idea where they were headed, but god dammit, she wanted to kill John.

He left them behind. How could the selfish bastard do the most caring thing he'd ever done and stayed behind?

She was interrupted by the harsh impact of wooden floors under her feet. The familiar surrounding of the Mill House wrapped her in a sense of Déjà vu, reminding her of so many of their old cases.

Jim stared, enraptured by their surroundings. "This is the Mill House, right?"

She smiled at him. She'd forgotten he'd never had a chance to see the place yet. "Yeah. I've always wanted to show you around, but we never had the time."

Suddenly, a deep voice echoed from around the door frame.

"John, that you? Rene had a rescheduled business meeting, I got back early."

The familiar face of Chas Chandler made her want to cry with relief.

"How was the-" his sentence stuttered to a pause. "Zed? What are you doing here?" he saw Jim standing next to her. "What's going on?" His next question chilled her to the bone.

"Where's John?"