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You found him unsurprisingly at the hotel’s bar, gaze lost in the distance, an untouched glass of whiskey on the table in front of him. You could tell he wasn’t well by the hunch of his shoulders and your feet brought you to him at their own accord.
Constantine flinched when you touched his shoulders, brown eyes haunted for just a moment until he registered your presence and looked away. You could almost see his walls building up again.
“What are you doing here?” he all but growled at you and if you weren’t already immune to his sour disposition, you’d be offended.
“Chas called,” you replied, taking a seat in front to him. “You don’t have to do this, you know? You don’t owe that man anything.”
He stared down at his drink for a long moment, lips pressed together in a thin, displeased line. Constantine hated talking about his past. It involved too many feelings and John and feelings were like oil and water: they didn’t mix.
“Not that this is any of your business, but I’m not here for him.” Constantine’s tone lost some of its cutting edges. His voice just sounded cold and hollow, which you thought was worse. You could deal with his crabbiness pretty well. You were used to it. This emptiness was worrying.
You watched as he finally reached for his drink, but his hand shook so hard liquor sloshed to the side splashing his hand.
“Shit!” John cursed, closing his hand in a fist to keep it still.
And now you saw it, the cracks in his armor the unbelievable sorrow in his brown eyes that avoided yours at all costs. John was barely keeping it together and it broke your heart.
“Let me come with you?”
You voiced it like a question instead of an offer as you caught his hand, squeezing it lightly. It was a strange contrast, your small fingers wrapped around his bigger ones. It wasn’t often that you got to comfort John. But tonight, he might just be broken enough, desperate enough to let you try.
After a moment, John just nodded letting his hand fall open under yours and with a relieved breath, you entwined his fingers with yours, suppressing their tremors.
For the first time, John finally met your eyes, letting you see his gratitude for a second before he looked away and reached for the glass once again.
This time, he managed to bring it to his lips without spilling anything.