Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I know I tend to get like this, but holy shit, how I miss London. And Liverpool. And damn, if you'd hurry me up, I could miss that little place, Newcastle. Where my fucking life turned to shite, where I crapped all over the glass and spilled the whole bloody cake. Why, you may ask? To tell you the truth, I haven't the faintest idea. It's probably just that this whole shitty country gives me this visceral reaction, that's all.

I hate the States. I hate the friggin' Yanks. I hate the goddamn Southern hillbillies. I hate their stupid families with their made-up traditions. I hate their vacuous celebrity fucks. I hate those sick Evangelist pricks with their crappy megachurches. And I fuckin' hate all those racists and Nazi scumbags that swarm like wanderers on the highways.

But most of all, I hate the shitty bloody US magic. Everybody in this fucked up country is looking for the same goddamn thing. Sex. Drugs. If anything, a little bit of money to settle down. They never ask for anything creative. And as a consequence of their frivolous desires, they summon demons that their tiny heads fried by hours and hours of consuming news from Fox News, or CNN, or any bloody TV station in this country, fail to comprehend, and unleash evils that in their frakking lives they would be able to forgive themselves. Of course, because they'd be dead.

If it weren't for me. Because you see, I always have to go in. I don't know why, but I always go in. Either I owe a favour to a prostitute, or the feds are looking to put me in jail and I have to do them a favour, or an old girlfriend wants to escape from a town gone mad with porn money, or if I just want to settle the hell down and forget that I'm older than the freaking Queen of England, or at least I think I am, I have no idea how old I was last time, being young forever makes things harder even if it doesn't seem so, but always, I end up involved in one of these stupid things.

In seasons like these I long for the old days and my old loves, especially Piffy, but whatever, no relationship I had was going to work out anyway. So now this is who I am. A lone ranger, a horse with no name, riding around England, unless I'm needed in some other country. Even Chas has grey hair now. And I still look like I'm in my fucking 30s. What a bloody marvel, isn't it? Bollocks to that.

Anyway, it's not like any of this really matters, considering that finally, I'm going to settle down, at least temporarily. I'm on a bus. It's not exactly my preferred mode of transport, but I can get used to not being in a comfortable Taxi. This bus is empty anyway, so does it even matter? I look out the window of the bus, and honestly, compared to all the nasty, arid sights of this horrible country, these aren't bad at all.

Trees, oaks, big and strong, clinging to the ground to live. Huge cornfields. And then signs, indicating the entrance to a place which, in all honesty, I had always ignored on the dollar maps I bought of the country. Faraway Town. A small town in the middle of nowhere. I'd pray to god it's not another clusterfuck of Rednecks, but honestly, I don't think the Almighty would be too happy with my prayer. He must hate me.

So I arrive. And I get down of the bus. The entrance tells me that at least it won't be filled with Adolfs addicted to the meth. It's a fairly ordinary entrance, with a well-kept street and an information booth. There is no obstruction or overwhelming vegetation. Just a free access for visitors. So I head towards the information booth, and I see a quite handsome guy watching who goes in and who comes out. And I start popping questions.

"Hey! Good morrow, mate!" I say in a strong voice to get the attention of the watchman, who seems to be reading a book with great interest, and immediately turns his sight to me.

"Hello, good morning sir, welcome to Faraway Town! What can I do for you, you look like someone new!" says the watchman enthusiastically, as he looks out of the window.

"Indeed mate, I'm new round here, how did you guess, mate? Can you spot people by face?" I ask to get some chat about the town from him, I need to be aware of my surroundings.

"Yes I do! Only a thousand people live here and we all know each other!" comments the watchman as he starts to check his manual.

"Brilliant, matey. I'd like to know if there's a hotel near here. Or in town, ideally," I say as I lit a smoke out of reflex. For how many years now have I quit getting the horrible taste of chems or the scorching in my throat? I don't know. I guess it's the result of smoking 20 cigs a day.

"Oh no, I'm sorry sir. Not here in the town. There is a hotel in the middle of the road about a mile away, but there are no hotels in the town. There has never been enough demand. But, if you like, one of our more prolific residents rents her house every time she goes on a trip, and these weeks she will be on a trip to the nearest city." At that moment I see the watchman writing down what I assume to be an address on a scrap of paper, and then handing me the scrap of paper. "Have a nice day and enjoy our town!"

With a wave of my hand, I thank the watchman, and start my walk, while I drop my first cigarette inside this village. I know I shouldn't be this bitchy, but it all feels oddly... suitable, and above all, eerily calm. I mean, it's not wrong, I've been through some very nasty shite over the years, but the extreme calmness freaks me out a bit too. Moreover, there's another fact that disconcerts me.

And it's this feeling in my gut. The essence of demise. The presence of something else that holds this town captive somehow. It's not that I see it, I just feel it. Still, I keep pushing these sensations aside. It's hardly the 'first friggin' time my irretrievably cracked psyche plays a dirty trick on me when I'm not speaking to someone. It should be just that. Just my bloody mind.

It's bizarre. There's one more sensation. Stepping into this town gives me a funny sensation. A silly enough one. Sorrowful melancholy. Like... broken memories. Longing. Shattered dreams. My mouth suddenly tastes of everything but Nicotine and chemicals. And then, out of nowhere, I feel like I want to burst into tears. Pathetic old man. Suddenly you start to miss your buddies and your lovers. Just by entering a town that looks like it's going to look fairly good. But such feelings can't overtake me, just like that, out of the fucking blue.

After all, I'm John Constantine. I'm just that guy who steps from the shadows. All trench coat and arrogance. Ready to deal with the madness. I'll bring your demons out of you, even if it takes the last drop of your blood. I'll kick those bastards in the bollocks. I'll spit on 'em when they down. Leaving you with merely a wink, a nod and a wisecrack. I tell that to myself a lot. To remind me who the fuck I am. Because there are times when I wish I was somebody else. But I know who I am. I'm fated to follow this path I've taken...alone.

Then I am greeted with the bigger shock of my lifetime. It transpires that this small town in the midst of bloody nowhere doesn't just look good. No. It looks stunning. As I stop walking down the main street and come to the first intersection, I notice a fairly small neighbourhood. That's not what's shocking. It's the homes that are striking. All of them...so well kept and neat. Well, except for about three. But who really cares about those particulars? The rest of them, they look pretty darn decent. Like the fucking American dream. There's even a little church. No hotel, but a church. That's the power of faith, eh?

Afterwards, I keep walking towards the next crossroads and finally realise that this is no more than a town of moneybags. Certainly some of these folks have their holiday homes, although come to think of it, why would they have them here and not on the freakin' beach? And, why do I say that? Well, when there's no hotel, but there's a fucking supermarket, diner, arcade and game shop, repair and flower shop, and well, a school I can see in the horizon, you start to realise that this isn't what you'd call, "A humble town in the middle of nowhere".

As I follow the directions, I come upon a surprisingly spacious park. And the first thing I see is a blond, teenage boy crying in a corner, and a gang of punks. Well, the definition of a gang of punks in a privileged, upper-middle-class town in America. And from the looks of it, I'd argue whether these kids watch too many movies. All thuggish with their bikes and stuff. If you'd hurry me, I'd say they're just a buncha lonely kids in need of companionship. I also see a few tall teenagers playing some basketball. And that's all I could see, as I continued on my way in the direction indicated.

Finally, I came to the last batch of houses. And these were... holy sod ing heck, they were particularly large. If I'm guessing, they're all from hard-working families. Whatever. All the way to the end of the bloody town, I finally find the address. And just as I set foot in front of the house, that feeling in my gut gets real fucking heavy for an instant. Just one. That scent of demise. And then, it's gone, it stops. It made me sweat for a second, one fucking second. And that was enough to get my attention even more. Hey, I know I said I'm gonna lay low, but, this could be important. For me, at least. I'm gonna stay in this house. So I tap on the door, and a very polite lady answers the door.

"H-Hello, sir, good afternoon!" Very polite lady, and a little bit small. It doesn't matter. I try my best not to be rude and look her straight in the eye.

"Hello madam" I say as I stub out my smoke and crush it on the floor "I hear you're renting the house while you're away on a travel. And actually, I'm quite interested in staying in your home."

"EHHH?! Oh yes! It's true. Ah, listen, I'm going on a business trip tonight and I was already a little worried. I thought my son would have to take over the house again. I'm glad you can stay and do it. Would you like me to give you a tour of my house?" says the lady as she invites me in.

"That won't be necessary, ma'am. Just let me know where I can't go and I'll be all set. By the way, which is your name?"

"Keiko, what's yours?" asks the polite lady, and I respond with the same politeness.

"John. John Constantine." I answer casually, as I check my area and the house with my eyes. Suddenly, all the essence of demise is gone. Out of nowhere. But it's strange. It's as if the thing that lured me here has taken off, running away with its tail between its legs.

Perhaps it knows me. Maybe it knows my profile. Maybe it was savvy enough to get the frak out of here. Or perhaps it was foolish enough to sneak away from me. It don't matter. I'll deal with it later.

"Okay, Mr. Constantine, what do you do for a living?" asks the polite lady, and promptly, I panic, although externally it may only appear as if a mere millisecond has passed. I lay on the tray a thousand reasons or crafts I might name, all needing to be mundane enough to guarantee I won't catch her eye. What would I say to her? Howdy, name's John Constantine, I'm a magician of the dark, a necromancer, a demonic investigator, an exorcist, and an FBI wanted one. Either it scares the bejesus outa her and she rushes to denounce me, or I'll attract her attention in a big way. And no good ever comes of that. So, after a hasty consideration, I leap at the best shot for me and her survival.

"Oh, naught exciting, ma'am. I'm a simple underground musician who's retired and now spends his income on world travel," I say with a partial truth, whilst I dig into my pockets for cash.

"Oh. You look European, that's why I was asking. Where are you from, London?"

" Nah, ma'am. Pride of Liverpool eternally, ma'am." Shit. I nearly felt grubby saying that I'm proud to be from that shithole.

"I was just asking because it's curious to see anyone visiting, especially people from out of town. Which is strange, this town is made up of immigrants. I, well, I'd expect people to visit more often". says the Polite Lady. I suppose I see the rationale for cutting this town off the maps of America. You cannot be throwing immigrants in crates, butchering 'em on the river and expect to not be perceived as hypocritical to have a town made up of foreigners.

"Well, at times you're so disregarded people can act as if you don't exist."

"You're right, sir. Well, um, speaking of inaccessible places, only my son's bedroom, which is across the hall, up the stairs, to the right," says the polite lady, as she leads me round the house, and, with my eyes, I keep scanning, spotting a door at the bottom of the stairs, more pointedly at the left side of the stairs, which draws my attention powerfully, although I choose not to ask.

"Alright, I only have one query. The kid is not coming out of his room? It struck me, pardon me, but, I mean, if he's going to stay here, is it fine for a stranger to be here?" In that moment, I witness the polite lady shift from a fairly gleeful expression, to subtly, begin to show signs of concern. A small nervous twitch is visible on her jaw. And at that moment I remember that feeling in my gut. But I keep quiet. I can't be absolutely sure of anything at this point.

"O-Oh, he'll be completely fine, he only leaves his room at night and occasionally goes to the bathroom, he won't be an issue and he'll be completely fine with your presence," says the polite lady almost robotically, as if she's rehearsed this dialogue a hundred times already. Which puzzles me.

"Okay... well, how much do you charge for the accommodation in your home?" I ask, masking a calmness that I too have rehearsed a hundred times before.

The transaction is then executed. I am told the appointed time for the keys to be delivered to me. But as there are still hours to go before this polite lady leaves on her trip, I decide to venture out and scan the town a bit, again, to familiarise meself with me environment and get a proper bearing on where I am and the situation I'm in. I head to that park that I had glanced at out of the corner of my eye and sit on a bench, staring at nothing, at the sun, at any crap that could distract me. Then I light up a ciggy. Trying to smoke, to forget about the peculiarities I spotted in this town, and turn the other way. It should be nothing. And so I'm drifting. Lighting smoke after smoke, until a little punk girl with brown shaved hair approaches me. And out of the blue she takes my cigarette from me. The audacity of this rascal.

"I've been putting up with your stupidity for thirty minutes, but you better stop smoking here, you idiot, or there will be consequences!" she says, with a lot of bloody bravado, the fool. But that's not what outrages me. What makes me outraged is that in this bloody hellhole of a country I have been able to smoke anywhere, and now, out of the fucking blue, it turns out that in this specific park, in this specific town, I can't do it. Yes, of course. At that instant, with a swift flick, I toss a cigarette into the air, catch it in my mouth and light it, immediately challenging this brat.

"Are you... Are you challenging me, jerk?"
"So what if I do, brat? What will you be able to do exactly?" I ask back, responding to her pitiful attempt at intimidation.
"Ehm...ehh...Aubrey!" oh wow, cool. Back in my friggin' day the real Punks would not only put up with this, but they'd set their opponent's house on fire. They weren't good times, but hey, at least we were tough as nails. And this girl, she immediately resorts to calling her leader. Which is a pink-haired girl whose only asset is a spiked baseball bat. Wow. How intimidating. I'm shivering with dread.

"Sir..."
"Aha, Aubrey, I assume that's your name. Or are you the Queen of England by any chance, punk?"
"Son of a... Listen to me sir! We're not against smoking, but it's not allowed here! Stop that now or we'll be forced to-!"
"Ah, hang on, now I catch on. You're Bernard Montgomery, ain't you, kiddo?"
"Stop messing with me and stop smoking in here for fuck's sake!"
"Calm down, young girl! I was just messing with you, for chrissake! You should stop bossing adults around, though. It's not that we're brighter than you, it's just that in exactly four years you'll see how utterly bloody humiliating it is to have a sixteen year old kid try to order you around," I say, as I stop antagonising these kids and put my cigarettes away. Not because I've been intimidated or anything. But because it's legitimately moronic to see a man who looks like he's in his thirties being insulted by a teenage girl.

"And who are you anyway? We've never seen you around here before," says this pink-haired girl.
"Me? I'm a great artiste," I say as, using the oldest trick on the list, I make my lighter appear as if it had appeared out of nowhere, when in fact I was carrying it under my sleeve.
"You don't look like anything but a homeless man to me. Let's go guys, we've got more important things to do" Like going on talking in a ball in a corner for example. Anyway, I don't really care. So I just get up from the bench, seeing that I won't get any peace, and decide to wander around the village.

And thus I keep wandering round the town for hours. I also realise that the church makes more sense, because behind the church there is a graveyard, so I might have jumped to too many conclusions just by sight. And secondly, that in the local pizzeria, which also serves as a restaurant, dance floor and performance venue, there is also a small bar. It is called Gino's. There is not much of importance, but it was still a pleasant walk. It is the ideal place to just lay low and relax.

And everything tells me that this would be a perfect place to do such a thing... until the night starts to fall, and I go to the polite lady's house, only to realise that the keys are hanging on the door handle, and the lady is nowhere to be seen. And it is at that moment that everything changes.

And it's when the sky turns orange and the whole world reflects the warm mother star, that I suddenly feel that feeling in my gut again. Not as strong as before. But it definitely gets me. It hunts over my head. It embraces me with gelid arms and fills me with a spectral chill. And when I look out into the forest surrounding this particular town, I can only make out shadows moving, like children playing. As I pass through the park, I hear laughter. Cacophony of times past. Echoes of yesterday. Soon the whole town is covered in a light mysterious mist, and my mind, at the same time, is filled with the fog of mystery. However, I can see people on the street, walking, and they don't seem to notice the mist. Is it only me who can see it? Has my mind finally surrendered to the hellish madness that is my life?

And just when I think I've gone mad, something tells me that my sanity remains undefeated. "Something awful happened here". Anne-Marie's words echo in my head, echoing from the past. Is it her ghost? I look back and expect to find a Nun with a deformed face. I find nothing. So it's not my madness. It's not my mind playing tricks on me. It's not just a strange town. And then I remember, for a few moments, before I start to cry about it, Newcastle. I force myself to remember. And then, I can feel it, as the hairs on my arm stand up. The same feeling as when I walked into the Casanova Club.

And it is then that I use the keys that were given to me, and enter the polite lady's house, as if fleeing from my call. Sepulchral silence. A huge and horrifying lack of sound is created inside the house. It feels as if my eardrums create white noise to compensate for this. And also...the occasional interruption of crickets. Anyone else would be shitting their pants to be in this situation. The thing is...I'm not just anyone.

I turn on the lights...or at least I try to. And I notice that they don't come on. It's not much of a problem anyway. I can guide myself perfectly well in the dark. So I do just that, I guide myself towards the kitchen, when I see a small note stuck on the wall. I can't read the writing well because of the lack of light, but apparently it's one of the household chores for the polite lady's son.

I open the refrigerator. From the looks of it, the electricity from the connectors in this house works perfectly. The fridge is quite full. In the middle, I see a cooked steak. As I inspect it out of the corner of my eye, I realise that there is a medicine inside, as something is sticking out of the middle of the steak, in the shape of the medicine. I decide not to look any further and close the fridge. After that, I head down the corridor, and by chance, I spot a room with no door, which I hadn't seen before.

A room with a couple of pieces of furniture, and in the centre, a grand piano. I assume it is simply a piano belonging to the mother, and decide to stop looking at it, and head upstairs, towards my room, which I assume is the one on the left at the back, possibly belonging to the nice lady. Still, there is a great hesitation within me as to whether to open the boy's room or not. But in the end, I decide that it's simply none of my concern, and choose to head to my room, and go to sleep.

And sure enough, I could have stayed there for long hours, but there was a slight inconvenience. It turns out I couldn't sleep. I don't know why, but my mind decided that today, I just wasn't going to sleep, no matter how much I wanted to. Which honestly, although at first I didn't think much of it, as the hours went by I began to despair. I tried to come to various conclusions. Either everything that was happening had really upset me (I doubt it), or I just had insomnia. Neither was convincing but I decided to go for the second one.

So after a long time of trying to sleep, I finally gave up, and decided to leave my room at about two in the morning. And I guess that finally, one of my skills was doing all this work, because when I left the room, I, being only in my trench coat and trousers, came out in sync with the boy. The polite lady's son. Although I've seen people in worse, I have to stress, much worse, states, seeing this boy, makes me very slightly surprised, and I shudder for a millisecond.

The boy has a blank stare. No, I have a better description. Have you seen that famous picture, the one of Theodore James Miller? Twisted grimace. Mouth open. Eyes fixed on nothing. Dead. A completely shattered countenance. His physical condition is best left unsaid. The boy is completely pale. He looks like he hasn't grown from the age of twelve in anything but height. As if he has stagnated. At the point of greatest suffering. His clothes don't seem to have been changed in days. His hands, from what I can see, are full of wounds. And his arms too. The boy looks like a living dead. And then I notice his gaze again. And he's no longer looking at nothing. But now he's looking towards the stairs.

And then I see something completely different in his gaze. And I also go into shock at the same time as him. It's like I'm that brute Punk again, in the seventies, looking at Astra. That girl who, because of my stupidity, I sent to hell, together with my friends. I see those same eyes full of terror, of the most intense horror one could ever experience. This boy. This boy has the same look as Astra. The same eyes. Newcastle's eyes. And then I make the connection. And out of instinct, I start to pull myself into the room again. "It's not my bloody problem," I try to repeat to myself like a mantra. "It's not your bloody problem, John Constantine." I remember when that moron Gary tried to restrain Mnemoth. But then I remember who the fuck condemned him. Who the fuck made him. Who the fuck sent him straight into the addict's life. I remember when I tried to help at Doglick. It wasn't my stupid problem. I meddled. But they were doing something horrible, and I was the only one who could send them out of sight. You've always been the one who condemns people, Constantine. You've always been the bastard who sent them straight on their way to hell. You fooled your own sister. I'm trying to light a cigarette, run away from the situation. Ignore this kid. You're a coward. You're always a coward.

And then I realise I'm out of cigarette packs. There's no way to run away from this, Constantine, I quickly realise. My head hurts, my body hurts. Everything tells me this is a bad idea. But what's wrong with helping a child down the stairs? I sit up again, and gather enough strength to keep walking. And then, I go down the stairs, just two steps, and very carefully, I position myself in front of the boy. I hold up one of my hands. I know that interfering with something like this could cause something worse, so I decide to keep calm, and speak to him in a calm and gentle way, while keeping my hand raised.

"Kid. Hello."
"Wh-what...are you...no...that's everywhere..."
"Yes, I see it. And don't worry. That won't hurt you." I lie. I don't know what the fuck he's seeing. But, really, is it good to interfere with his perception of reality?
"N-No... You're lying! I-I must...!"
"I'm not lying. Look..." I take out my lighter and light it, handing it gently to the boy, making him squeeze it with both his hands "This will light your way. This will chase away the shadows."
"I-I...W-What are you?"
"My name is John Constantine, boy. I'm here to help you." I lower my hand, and opt for this boy to follow me. I then slowly start to walk down the stairs, taking soft steps to avoid scaring the boy away. And before I know it, the boy begins to inhale and exhale. And little by little, I start to see the boy calming down. Still, he keeps clinging to my lighter. As if he fervently believes in what I told him. And after a good five minutes, walking very slowly down those stairs that would normally take you exactly fifteen seconds to go up and down, we reach the ground floor of the house, and there, finally, I see the boy with the same gaze as at the beginning, although this time, it's not fixed on nothing.

It is fixed on me. He immediately drops the lighter, still lit, and quickly, I manage to grab it and close it. I'd start yelling at this guy, but it's clearly not right. So I prefer to keep my mouth shut and just keep my lighter in my trench coat.

He keeps staring at me for a long, agonizing two minutes. Until finally, he speaks to me, in a whispery, robotic voice.

"My name is Sunny."
"'Pleased to meet you, Sunny."
"What are you doing here, Mr. John Constantine?"
"Your mother let me stay at yer kind home."
"Do you want to have something with my mother?"
"What? No. Not at all. I only stayed here because it was the only place I could. Your mother said nothing to you?"
"No. I don't remember."
"Hey kid, your mother slipped one of your pills in a steak. If I were you, I'd take the pill on the side to avoid the awful mixed taste of pill and steak."
"I don't take those drugs. They don't allow me to dream."
"Yeah, erm... no offence, eh? But I think they might help you control whatever... whatever happened to you up there."
"I don't quite remember."
"Fuck," I mumble.
"I'm hungry." Sunny says in the same robotic, whispery tone.
"Yeah, I guess it makes sense that you're hungry. Although I guess this isn't really the best time to eat, don't ya think?"
"Never mind. I'm hungry."

Bloody hell. His insistence is almost surprising. I let him go get food from the fridge, and just as he requests, I take the pill from the chop he was going to take. Aripiprazole. Twenty milligrams. That's more than the recommended adult dosage. It shouldn't even be legal. And yet some damn doctor is giving it to him. I'm all right with this kid taking medication. He desperately needs them. But this amount? Either this "polite lady" is fucking irresponsible, or... "Something awful happened here". And seeing as how this kid avoids windows, avoids doors, and avoids looking at the outside world, I think it's clear which option it is. And then, it's decided.

I don't know how I ever felt any doubt. Honestly, it seems bloody stupid to me to have felt that doubt at any point. My name is John Constantine. And this town will be my friggin' project for the next week. And I'm gonna help this kid. I don't have a good feeling. But honestly, I've never had a good feeling. So screw it. Fuck my feelings. Fuck my cowardice. The Englishman has come. The prick's arrived. I'm going my own bloody way.

I always have.

Chapter Text

"I couldn't wait for the time when you arrived, Ellie."

The dawn in this town has come, and the sun gently illuminates my face. As well as hers. With this woman, we sure have had our share of run-ins, haven't we? Believe it or not, far from her appearance of black hair and green eyes, this woman in front of me is actually a succubus. And succubi aren't exactly pretty when you see their true appearance. It feels appropriate, considering where I am. This town seems to be a succubus, unable to wait for the moment when it will devour me, and rip my guts out. I'm in the park right now. Sunny? Sunny as far as I understand immediately went back to bed after feeding. So what am I supposed to be doing here? Well... let's just say i need a favour. A favour from a good friend of mine.

"Yeah, well, finding your location was a little tricky, considering you're in the middle of nowhere."

Say hello to Ellie. An ally, and a good friend. She helped me once when I needed to find someone to take my cancer out. Then she helped me when I needed to get rid of the bloke who had taken my cancer out. Then for some stupid reason we got into a fight and I condemned her to hell. But she managed to escape. And after a few run-ins, tea, coffee and sandwiches, there are no hard feelings between us anymore. And she helped me steal a book. She's a nutcase. Just like me. And she's heartbroken, still pining for a lost lover. I did all I could. But in the affairs of heaven, there's almost no way to meddle.

"What are you doing here, John? Last time I heard of you, you were dead, man," Ellie says, pretending to be impressed that my death didn't pan out. Again. It's almost funny if you ask me. I'm too much of a prick to die, I guess.

"Aha, but I got better. The last few years I've been trying to keep a low profile. But always, for some bloody reason, I end up in a magical mess again. For the fourth or fifth or sixth time. I'm here because I thought I was going to finally get some rest. You know. Relax. All that. But...well, if I called you, it's because I'm clearly not going to achieve my goal, huh?" I say, my tone clearly fed up.

"So why don't you get out of here?" asks Ellie, to which I obviously have to respond. I'd like to take offence at the question, but clearly she doesn't know the context.
"I had thought about it. But it turns out there just happens to be one factor forcing me to stay here."
"And that would be, John?"
"A child. Another friggin' kid, Ellie."

"...If you know what again you're getting yourself into unnecessary trouble over a kid, aren't you, John?" asks Ellie, already knowing my long history of misfortune on the subject of helping children.

"I know, Ellie. That's precisely why I called you. The boy's name is Sunny. I don't know much about him. I haven't wanted to get inside his head, or hypnotise him or anything like that. He's sixteen, I think. I don't know if he's possessed. But... he's got the same look of horror as Astra, Ellie. I know I sound like a sentimental old fuck already, but I really feel like that kid needs my help, you know?" I say, trying to provide the better words for my situation. Ellie is clearly not convinced of what I'm doing, but decides to play along.

"And what exactly do you want me to do here, John? Startle him until he says exactly what's wrong with him?" asks Ellie, and she clearly looks confused at whatever it is I'm asking her to do. So I decide to be clear.

"Alright, uh. This doesn't exactly sound orthodox, but... I want you to keep an eye on us, okay? From a distance. By yourself. Keep your eyes on us, okay?" At this request, Ellie simply surprises me, and starts laughing.

"What's so funny?"
"Constantine, for fuck's sake, this isn't like you! Are you really so scared of what might happen that you'd ask me to keep an eye on you? Are you serious?" Finally, Ellie stops laughing and immediately gives me a serious look, no irony or anything. What's more, she even looks concerned.

"Does it really seem that serious?"
"It's not that it's very serious. I just don't want a repeat of Newcastle. I've been having a lot of paranoia in my head since I got here. I just, I want to make sure that everything will be, as far as possible, safe for the kid, no interventions from my screwed up luck."

"...All right. I'll do what I can. Stay safe John."
"Yeah, you stay safe too, Ellie."

And just as she arrived, she left. Ellie would normally be right. This isn't like me. To care so much about someone else. And what might happen. But what can I say? I reached that level of despair after seeing the boy's face. I don't want the boy to suffer for my mistakes and my past sins. If I'm going to help him, this time, I won't condemn him to hell. At the same time, though, my luck is so messed up, I don't know exactly how the cards are dealt in this play.

And I have to start my play right if I want to get things right. So, first step: I have to get Sunny out of the house and let's go get something to eat. I've been researching on the internet since I woke up exactly what the kid is. And from what I saw, the Japanese term is "Hikkikomori". This boy seems to have an enormous revulsion at the very idea of leaving his house. It's a bit complicated the situation I'm in, innit? But I think I just have to get my arguments right, and it'll work out, won't it? I mean, what's the worst thing that could happen or be said to me?

"We can't go out," says Sunny looking at me from his room with the door open, like a bloody cat sitting on a throne, but a lot more haggard.

"Erm, did you say 'We can't'?"
"Yes, I did say that."
"Is there...is there anyone else with you I should know about?"
"Yes. You."
"Oh." Fantastic, Constantine. Straight to assuming some demon, or schizophrenia. Or I don't know, some possessed doll. Bloody fantastic.
"Well, why can't we go out?"
"I can't go out. Too many dangers outside. It's better inside."
"Yes, but why can't I go out?"
"Your presence is comforting, Mr. John Constantine. It makes me feel safe. Your face looks like mine."
"Does it? So, how does it look?" Maybe Sunny is aware of his situation. Maybe he'll say something like, "Marred by tragedy," or "Wracked by grief."
"Afflicted. And you don't know why, do you? And you search your dreams for answers. You search where it all went wrong. And just when you're about to get it...it all starts again. And you remember the good times. And it stays that way. Living in happy harmony. But afflicted when you wake up. That's why you sleep. Aren't you like that, Mr. John Constantine?"

"Kid... I..." You know what? Screw appearances. If this kid runs to report me, at least I'll have gotten him out on the goddamn street "I was in an nuthouse, kid."

His slight shock is only perceptible through his small movements. But it seems that instead of repelling him, I've got his full bloody attention.

"Alright, uh, you look like you want to hear this. Just, uh, keep it a secret, and don't tell anyone, huh? Unless they ask for me, in which case, crow like a rooster, okay?" Surprisingly, Sunny plays along, nodding his head.

"Okay...well. I was in an mental institution. And you know, my case was the exact opposite of yours. It turns out that while you want to sleep... I did everything I could to avoid going back to sleep. When I was young, something happened, in England. I'll spare you the details, kid. Let's just say I was involved. And I saw the whole thing. And as a result of it, I was sent to an asylum called Ravenscar. They locked me in a padded cell and threw away the key, until one day, a piece of... filth, because of the inconvenience that was that what I saw was so horrible that I didn't respond to his treatments, decided, somehow, to take my madness right out of me."

"And did that...did that help you, Mr. John Constantine?"

"No, kid. It all got worse. Yes. I was no longer salivating. I was no longer a nervous wreck. But the guilt, the remorse. The consequences of my actions. Those things never go away, you know? No matter what you do. You can't get rid of those things. On the contrary. That ball of madness and guilt fed on me. I kept dreaming. About what I saw. Until one day, I asked a guy for a favour and he made me stop seeing those horrors in my dreams. But I could never stop feeling the guilt. It never stopped eating my brain. I only stopped feeling so bad when I finally dealt with it and went out and faced the horrors and mistakes of the past."

"So, what should I do, Mr. John Constantine? I don't want to abandon my friends. I want to keep dreaming with them. I want to keep playing forever. But I also want to do what you did. I want to know where it all went wrong, and face it. I don't want to see myself afflicted anymore, Mr. John Constantine."

"Please...call me John, kid. And if you want to do that, there's only one way to try." I say as I point in a relaxed manner towards the exit of the house.

"No, I don't feel ready, John."

"You're never ready, Sunny. Just, trust me, kid, okay?"

"Promise me."

Oh, no. Oh, crap. Anything but that damned word.

"Hey, promise you what, kid?"
"Promise me that you're going to protect me from the dangers outside. You comfort me, John. Your presence drives away the shadows. So promise me you'll protect me. Promise me you won't leave me alone. I don't want to be alone. Promise me."

I remember the words of a certain son of a bitch. "A false pledge made in hell will have consequences on earth." And I feel like I'm in damned hell right now. I almost try to take it back again. Ellie's damn right. It's too much unnecessary trouble for one kid. But this kid. He's betting all his bloody cards on me. A goddamned English stranger who's just staying at his house and had the courtesy to hand him a lighter so he wouldn't go downstairs in the dark. And then it hits me. "A false pledge." The thing is... I won't be making a false pledge. I'm finished anyway. I should have been dead years ago. They should have shot me with a dart and taken away this youth and all these powers. The thing is... it wasn't done. I didn't get shot. And then, a few words, seemingly out of nowhere, echo in my head, "It's about time you did something right in your life, you old prick".

I couldn't have said it better. I walk up the stairs, stand in front of Sunny, and extend my hand to him.

"I promise, Sunny."

And the boy squeezes my hand as if his life depended on it. For a single instant, I feel like his arm is going to fall off and I'll hold it in my hand. The bloody memories of Newcastle keep screwing with my head. They want me to mess it up. Screw it all up and have them exclaim "We were dead bloody right about you, you old fart". Yet I'm determined not to mess it up this time. So I nod, and with this action, I seal the deal.

The light emanating from the exit of the house is blinding, and that light is sweet. Maybe it's the start of a new day for the boy? Or maybe it's my desperate hope that everything will be alright this time? Either way, there's no turning back. And there are no exits and no regrets. So we both step out of the threshold, towards our new destination.

A bit theatrical, eh? Well, that's the way I like things. It brings a certain zest to life. Well, here's the situation: It's nine o'clock in the morning, and Sunny is clinging to my trench coat. He shouldn't be doing such a savage thing, but I guess my trench coat won't do anything to him if he doesn't hurt me or take it off, so I ignore him, and proceed to start walking, safe in the knowledge that the kid is going to follow me. First step accomplished, now, I just have to get the boy to eat and that's it. I proceed to light my lighter only to immediately realise that I still have no ciggies. Whatever. I'll get Silk Cuts when I go to the supermarket. If I can go in the day, or if they have Silk Cuts....

We keep walking, when Sunny stops to look at the house next door. This one has an orange painted roof and a doghouse. For some reason, the boy stares at him. He doesn't take his eyes off it. Obviously that house is important, but at this point, the best thing to do is just ignore it, and keep walking. So I proceed to continue with my steps, grabbing the boy's arm.

"What was that, kid?"
"Memories. Good memories."

If he keeps up that cryptic shit, sooner or later I'm going to end up using hypnosis to get him to tell me what the hell is going on. After we get away from those houses, we keep walking, and I notice that Sunny, even though he looks pretty well, gets tired pretty quickly when he's walking. I see this as normal. The boy hasn't left the house in... I don't know how long, I've known him since yesterday, but that could become an inconvenience. Anyway, I have the patience of a monk, deep down inside, so I wait for Sunny to recover a little bit of energy, and we keep walking.

And then we reach the park again. So far I take a closer look, and I notice that it has a lot of games, for babies, and a playground and stuff, even a refreshment dispenser. Anyway, I could keep ignoring this, and just walk towards the supermarket square, but this kid, he won't let me, because the moment we cross the park, he decides to go inside, even though I'm clearly heading somewhere else. Anyway, I follow him anyway.

Today the park is a bit crowded. There is a young adult sitting on one of the benches. A teenage girl is drawing without disturbing anyone in her notebook, or something like that, I'm not very knowledgeable about drawing matters. And there's a boy, I think he's about Sunny's age, quite tall, and he's playing with a boy with a kind of Tamagotchi stone version. And it's this boy, precisely this boy, who caught Sunny's attention. The boy stares at him with that characteristic look for a good thirty seconds. It's as if he wanted to talk to him. Great, love at first fucking sight, at least I think so. I don't have time to deal with teenage drama. So I tap Sunny on the shoulder.

"Hey, kid. We gotta go."
"I just want to see him one more time."
"That's pretty scary, kid. Who's that guy that caught your eye so much, anyway?" The question outrages Sunny. And he starts yelling rather loudly.
"HE'S NOT A GUY, HE'S KEL! HE'S A FRIEND! A GOOD FRIEND!"

He shouts at me as if I have to know his friendships beforehand. I'm about to ask the reason why he's not talking to him, when this kid named Kel, looks up. And for an instant, the gaze between Sunny and this kid intertwines. And from that alone, it's clear to me that these two haven't just known each other for a long time, but that there's clearly unresolved issues going on here. The connection is friggin' immediate. As if a bloody day hasn't gone by without seeing each other. Fuck...there goes the whole "not dealing with teenage drama" thing.

"Sunny?"
"K-Kel..."
"Jay, can we continue playing later?"
"Ehm, sure dude, sure." says the blond boy, who remains seated on one of the benches, watching the whole scene intently. He's clearly as bewildered as I am.

"Sunny..." The boy looks Sunny over from head to toe, as if he can't believe the sight before him. Almost as if it were a mystical vision, of an idol lost for generations. "Wow...it's really you..."

"Kel...I, I, I...you're taller..." says Sunny, words never seem to get to him, but even less so on this occasion.

"Sunny...I...I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU, MAN!" The boy then gives a smile so huge and so pure that the only comparison I can give him is to the smile of a certain Boy Scout in blue tights from the comics, and then immediately jumps up and down three times in excitement, like a kid with a new console. No, his excitement goes beyond that. It's a purer excitement that I've rarely seen. This kid doesn't even care about Sunny's appearance, or his face, or his somewhat robotic tone. He only seems to care about seeing him.

"IT'S BEEN A WHILE, BUT IT FEELS LIKE YESTERDAY! Okay, okay. Listen, Sunny, you kind of dropped out of the blue, but, don't worry! I'll figure something out! Wait! I know! Let's go to Hobbiez! We used to go there all the time! Let's-" Okay, enough, it's time for me to intervene, because this kid doesn't even seem to be aware of my presence, so I proceed to cough loudly to get his attention.

"Hmm? Did you hear that Sunny?" the boy asks. Not only has he not even noticed my presence. It's that for this boy there are only eyes for Sunny. So the only alternative I have left is to stand in the middle of the two boys.

"Oh! Excuse me, sir!" Says this boy called Kel rather upset, "My friend and I are talking!"

"Yeah, I noticed that, kid."
"Then what are you still doing standing there?"
"Hey, Kel!" Raises his voice Sunny, which surprises Kel slightly.
"Sunny? What's wrong?"
"He, well. He's accompanying me."
"Him? This spooky guy?"
"He's not spooky. He's good people."
"Excuse me, man." The Kel boy turns his gaze to me, rather judgingly. "Who the hell are you? And who the hell are you to Sunny?"
"Me? I'm a nasty piece of-"
"He's John Constantine. He has my back." Sunny says, damn proud to have a thirty-something-looking old man acting as his bodyguard. I was supposed to be his caretaker, but me and my kindness make me go soft on this kid.
"Ah. Uhm...aha, yes, I'm John Constantine."
"So how did you two meet? Where's Sunny's mother?" asks Kel. He seems, genuinely concerned about the boy.
"The boy's mother is out of town. I'm staying at her house. I came out in the middle of the night from the main bedroom and Sunny was having trouble sleeping. I decided to help him. And among other things, I decided to help him get out of the house."

"Uh...well, thank you, sir. Uhm...now, could you give me some time with my frie-" Before Kel can finish that sentence, Sunny positions herself next to me, clinging to my trench coat.

"I don't go anywhere without John. He protects me from the dangers outside." Sunny says, rather startling Kel, and at this action, the boy can only ask him....

"Are you okay, Sunny?" asks this Kel boy.

"I'm fine if John is there. There's nothing to worry about Kel. Mari told me that John could be trusted. She told me he'd protect me." Mari? That's a new name. No one had mentioned it until now. And when that name was mentioned, the Kel boy's face changed from one of, well, cheerfulness to one of genuine concern.

"M-Mari? Sunny, are you-are you playing a joke on me? Ma-Mari is..."
"Mari calls me. Mari tells me everything I need to know."
I can see so many emotional states going through Kel just by watching his little gestures, his little spasms, his little twitches. I don't know who Mari is, but whoever she is has caused a huge conflict in Kel. I'm not an idiot. I'm pretty sure what Kel was going to say was something along the lines of, "Mari is dead." But who the hell is Mari?

"All right, I think that's enough, Sunny. It's time to go get some breakfast." I say as I start tugging on Sunny's arm, who shows no reaction to this.

"HEY! W-WAIT! S-SUNNY!-!"
"And you kid, Kel, you're invited to eat with us!"
I hope this is worth a damn.

We arrive at Gino's. I still have the pill Sunny's mother tried to get him to swallow in my trench coat. I broke it in half. I won't do it yet, but if the situation gets out of hand, I'll try to make him take it somehow. I don't expect much, though. This isn't like in the movies, where you take a pill and you stop seeing the demons in your wardrobe immediately. I just hope that if this gets out of control, Sunny at least has enough sanity so that we can control it all.

There is a jukebox, which is really just a more advanced device disguised as a jukebox. My nerves are on edge, so I immediately rush to the bar and ask for a bottle of alcohol, any kind, honestly, and a pack of cigarettes. The vendor is quite irritated that I'm ordering something that isn't pizza. I check the cigarettes. It's not Silk Cut. Fuck sake. They only have that "Camel" shit. Fuck it. It kills me inside anyway. Or well, it should. I drink half a bottle, and the taste is...quite good, and familiar, and I light up the cigarette, feeling lighter. All this in the space of a minute alone. Kel looks quite surprised. Sunny doesn't look surprised.

"Damn. Your bodyguard's an alcoholic, Sunny?"
"Nobody's perfect."

"Easy guys. It takes at least ten bottles of the hardest to make me feel a little crazy. I'll be fine. I just...needed that."

"Ehm...sure. Hey, Gino!" shouts Kel towards the attendant.
"Hey, hi Kel! What would you like to order today?"
"A table for uhm...sir, uh, John, will you be joining us?"
"I'll pay. And eventually kid. I just, I need a moment to myself."
"Uh, sure. A table for three and three "Pizzas", please!"
"...Uh-huh. Sure." Says the guy who answers. He seems to be annoyed again by the fact that he ordered anything but a Pizza. What could that order be? Three Sandwiches? Whatever, that doesn't matter right now.

What matters to me right now is that out of nowhere, I felt that same nostalgic feeling from yesterday. A feeling that would make a spiritually aged man like me weep. I take one last sip from the bottle of alcohol. That's when I realise what this bottle tasted like. The best alcohol in the world. Holy water. Holy shit.

This restaurant is a shrine. They're casting a spell older than the door and turning a well of holy water, which is probably downstairs from this place, into alcohol to sell to the customers. I'm not complaining though. That booze tastes fucking great to tell the truth. For a moment I allow myself to close my eyes, rest my gaze, and just relax, take my mind off the situation around me.

And then I listen to it. Piano notes. If I'm not mistaken, they are the opening notes of the song "Life on Mars". I open my eyes immediately to check my surroundings and to my surprise, I find myself in exactly the same place. And that horrible melancholy intensified for a single moment. And for a single instant, I came to see something with my eyes closed, and my third eye incredibly open. Like dominoes, they fell one after the other. A boy crowned in flowers that made him bleed. A key. And a girl... no, it wasn't a girl at all, something, with long hair, swayed as if agitated by the wind, and from between her hair, an eye turned to look at me. I would say that emptiness turned to see me. But long ago the emptiness looked at me and smiled. And I spat in his face and lit the bastard's face on fire with alcohol. Still, I can't help but think about that hair. The same shade of hair as... Sunny. And then, I make the connection. So, that is, "Mari?"

"Hey, 'Constanteen'! Our sandwiches are here!" shouts Kel from the table where they were positioned. Sunny is sitting in the spot closest to me as he stares at me.

This damn confusion again?

"It's not 'Constanteen', kid, the correct pronunciation is 'Constantain'." I say as I toss my bottle of alcohol into a nearby bin and put away my pack of cigarettes, getting up to walk only about five steps towards the table Kel chose.

"What's the difference? You need to stop judging things based on narrow-minded cultural assumptions, 'Constanteen'." Kel says as he begins to ingest his sandwich. Sunny, for the first time all damn day, forms a tiny smile. A smile so minuscule that only I, already experienced in facial expressions, am able to recognise it. What the fuck does this Kel think he is?

"W-what? I'm not, I'm not, I'm not judging anything, I'm not uh, I just, uh, corrected you on the correct pronunciation of my name, kid. Like, just eleven minutes ago you were treating me like I was the scariest, most malicious guy in all of England and now out of nowhere you're getting all sassy with me." I say, trying to defend myself against what they just did to me. No one mispronounces my name and gets away with it.

"Easy sir, I'm just kidding, don't get mad! But boy did I corner you at your own game, huh?" says Kel, rather damn proud of having made me doubt my arguments.

"Rrr...you're lucky you're a brat." I take a good bite of the sandwich, it doesn't taste like much but the boys seem to be enjoying it like never before, especially Sunny. Expectedly, considerable as the boy seems to be barely eating any food at all. And it's until now that i realize that this kid Kel seems to have completely forgotten, or at least skips, talking about the subject of "Mari".

"Hey, Sunny" says Kel with his mouth still half full from a mouthful of sandwich. Sunny startles slightly and turns in his direction, pointing to himself, as if the question had been directed at someone else "Tell me man, what have you been up to in this time we haven't seen each other?"

Sunny stares at Kel for a few moments, to swallow his bite, and begin to speak. I've detected it before, but Sunny seriously seems emotionally crippled, especially when it comes to interacting with people other than me. I mean, it was already obvious with me, but with much more normal people, the kid seriously seems "off". The only thing that seems to keep him on this "plane of reality", so to speak, is me, or this guy, Kel.

"Nothing important, Kel."
"Uh, I understand. Hey, don't you think this is kind of like...uhm...what was it...huh?"
"Like the date we agreed to last time we met, Kel?"
"Yeah, exactly! We agreed that we would meet here, and that we would order this very thing, and that afterwards, we would start talking about, well, you know, our future!"
"We were actually going to talk about our next study plans, Kel."
"That's right! How did you always have such a good memory?"

Good memory?
From the jukebox Orinoco Flow by Enya starts playing. I don't know who has such shit taste in music, though, who am I to judge? My taste in music is stuck on The Stooges and The Sex Pistols.

"Oh." Sunny expresses, turning to the jukebox, not responding to Kel's harmless questioning. "That song."

Kel turns away, as if trying to ignore what Sunny means at that moment, I think he knows full well what he means.

"That song Mari listens to all the time."
"Yeah, kid, speaking of which, this is something I've been meaning to ask you for a while now since you brought it up...uhm...who's Mari?"

The three of us are silent for a moment that feels like forever. I decide not to say any words, and before Kel can say anything to deflect the conversation and avoid an awkward moment, I shake his leg slightly, making it clear to him that this is a necessary thing to do.

"Mari." For an almost imperceptible instant, I see Sunny's deadpan stare. Not expressionless. Completely dead. It was strange. It was almost as if someone else had taken his body, and not a possession. It was worse. It was almost as if the horror had fried him, and a different engineer inside his head had taken over. And then, it's gone. It was almost imperceptible, but that simple expression told me almost everything I needed to know.

That horrible thing that happened with Sunny, it had to do with Mari. But what was it? Did he witness her death? Did she commit suicide in front of his eyes? And why did it affect him so much to the point of leaving him in this state? And then, the next thing he says to me, makes it clear to me why it would leave him like this.

"Mari is my sister. She went away to university. She calls me. She must know you, John. She told me you were a good person. That you could be trusted."

Kel at that moment, any hint of doubt he might have had towards me is gone as soon as he turns his gaze towards me. I don't see the same horror as on Sunny's face, but this is definitely as close as it gets. The brightness of his face, his smile, is gone. Instead, he's looking at me in horror. Not of me, but of the situation. He searches my gaze for some comfort, searches my words for some relief. I look at him more closely for a second and he looks like he's about to burst into tears. The only move I can make to reassure Kel at this point is to grab his hand from under the table, and squeeze it gently, and give him a slight nod of my head, reassuring him that everything is going to be alright. After this, I turn my gaze back to Sunny, but not before lighting a cigarette quickly to focus.

Here we go...

"Sunny, you have a very good memory. Your sister must have said more than just that. Try to remember."
"I... I don't..."
"What? What's the matter, kid?"
"I...fragmented...all of it, fragmented..."
I inhale some more of my cigarette.
"Concentrate Sunny. Look at me. Look at Kel. Look at both of us."
Sunny does just that. The poor kid is shaking horribly and hyperventilating. He has no control of his own body. Whatever the memories are attached to Mari, they've definitely destroyed him. And from what I can see, he can't even access them. I inhale some more of my cigarette. Alright, I tried to do this without going to this resource, but under the circumstances, it's impossible without this.

"HEY, GINO, I NEED A REFRESH!" I shout rather sternly towards the manager, drawing the attention of the whole place. Fuck them, I need to get this fucking situation under control. At first, evidently, this guy, Gino, doesn't realise what's going on, so he gets angry at my attitude, although he decides to keep his anger to himself, channelling it with his shout.

"WE ONLY HAVE ORANGE JOE, IDIOT! IS THAT OK?" And that's enough. Look, I've tried to control myself in front of Sunny and his friend, but I definitely can't take it anymore.

"DO I LOOK LIKE I'M IN A SITUATION WHERE I GIVE A FUCK ABOUT FLAVOUR?!"

It's at that moment, that Gino realizes what's going on with Sunny. And he seems to know him, as the watchman had already told me from yesterday, so without another word, he runs over, and drops the soda on the table for me immediately. Kel looks at me, expectant of what I'm going to do, and when he sees me take out half a pill, he knows things aren't going to be pleasant.

"NO! NO PILLS! NO DREAMING WITH THEM!" Sunny tries to get up from the table, but in one swift move, I set the soda down on the table and grab his arm, forcing him to sit down. I know I'm being harsh, but I need to do this. I need to make it clear to him that this is only for his benefit.

"Listen kid. I hate this stuff like the next guy. They used to make me eat them like candy at the loony bin. These things don't make your life better. This stuff doesn't make your life brighter. But if anything I know this shit can do is at least clear your head a little bit and calm you down. I need you to do this."

"No-no dreams with them. And-no-no friends with them..."

Hearing this, Kel immediately reacts and decides to talk to Sunny, taking him by the arms, and feigning as best he can a serene and happy face.

"Sunny. Listen to me. I am your friend. And I am real. And I promise you, I'm not going anywhere. And as long as I'm by your side...you won't need dreams to know that I'm there..."

"Kel..." Sunny hesitates for a second, but with his shaking hand, he takes half of the pill, and swallows it, then takes a sip of the soda.

We wait a few minutes for Sunny to sit up, and for the pill to take effect, and as soon as it does, he lifts his face, and his countenance is one I haven't seen before. I mean, it's not much different from his normal face, but I don't know, it's more "human".

"John. Thank you. You're right. This pill didn't make the situation any better but I think I have a clearer head." Sunny slowly stops shaking, and his robotic posture, changes to a more relaxed and a little more expressive. He's still emotionally crippled, but hey, this is progress.

"And John. I'm sorry. But I swear that's all I remember."
"...I understand. Don't worry, kid. I'm sorry I took you so far."
"...So...uh..." Kel seems to rummage around and try to find some way to divert the conversation, until finally, he finds the perfect excuse when he notices that the soda Sunny drank is Orange Joe "How'd you like Orange Joe, man?! Isn't it the most delicious drink in the world?"

"What? This?" I check the ingredients and OH MY GOD. "Coffee and Orange?!" I taste the soda and OH MY GOD. "Who the hell came up with this insult to good taste?! This bloody drink tastes like you mixed that crappy Coke with pure Orange Juice! THIS DRINK LOWERS THE STANDARDS TO A LEVEL I DIDN'T THINK POSSIBLE!"
"Haha! I know! Isn't it fabulous?" Says Kel. did this kid hear absolutely nothing I said?!
"IT WASN'T A COMPLIMENT!"
"I like Orange Joe too. I've tried it and I really liked it, despite the circumstances." Sunny says.

"Ah...oh..." I look at the two of them, and Kel is already making eyes at Sunny, while Sunny does the same, well, under what little expressiveness he can show "Oh my god, you two are made for each other."

Kel immediately turns to look at me blushing, while Sunny does the same. It's the first time in all this time he's shown any blushing, and it's adorable, especially considering how pale he is. It's just too obvious.

"What are you implying by that, 'Constantain'?"
I let out a laugh and finish my cigarette.
"I'm not insinuating anything, kid. I'm just commenting on what I observe. And, oh, look, now you're pronouncing my name right."
"Yeah, well...it's just that..." Kel closes one eye, smiles and turns away "Now I see you do want to help Sunny."

"Ha, well, I think we've done all we need to do here."

The three of us get up, and I leave all the money for the bill on the table, finally leaving the place. Although it didn't really take long, it felt like an eternity.

Kel yawns and stretches, as he does a few stretches.

"Ahhh, well, that was, erm, that was cathartic, huh?" says Kel, as he looks at Sunny, smiling. Sunny isn't quite capable of smiling, but he does the best he can.

"Yeah, well, I could tell you guys needed it." I light another cigarette, as the three of us look off into the distance and start walking towards the park. For some reason, I feel like I'm being watched, but whoever is watching me, it must be Ellie, right?

Suddenly I feel very cold as we make our way to the park. There's a bad feeling growing in my body that completely takes over my mind. Still, I continue to move by inertia, as I watch the boys walk casually down the street, while my legs move automatically. I still don't know what it is that makes me feel this way, I feel that at any moment I will return to the events of the Fear Machine, and I will have horrible nightmares again. I only know one thing: Whatever is about to happen is not going to be pretty.

And as soon as we get to the park, I get proof of that. What follows is definitely not a pretty scene.

"Just give it back!"

The blond boy from yesterday. The one I saw crying. He's yelling at the pink-haired girl I challenged yesterday. I can only note that I've been pretty stupid not to check faces since yesterday. Because looking at Kel's face, and Sunny's face, I only know one thing: These four definitely have history with each other. The blonde boy and Sunny look at each other for an instant, and that instant tells me absolutely everything I need to know about these two. Whatever happened with Mari, these two witnessed it, or at least the blond boy knows something about Sunny, or something else. Because as I saw the look on the blond boy's face, I could see the same look of horror I witnessed on Sunny as he tried to walk down the stairs.

And the next thing I know, a baseball bat with screws in the end hits this blond boy hard in the face, making his nose bleed. And the baseball bat? It obviously comes from the pink-haired girl. Promptly, this girl, who I think I remember calling herself Aubrey, kicks this blond kid in the stomach.

"Get away from me, you scumbag."

"BASIL!" shouts Kel, referring to the blonde Boy, as Sunny is completely shocked at what he's witnessing.

"Wow...it's really you..." says this Aubrey girl, turning to look at Sunny, as she swings her baseball bat, as if trying to intimidate Sunny, to subsequently put that bat over her shoulder, and finally, reveal valuable information to me "I was hoping I'd never have to see you again. It's been, what, 4 years now? It must have been great living in your little bubble."

"Aubrey! You don't know... You don't know how hard it's been on all of us! It's not as easy as you think!"
"Oh yeah? What's not as easy? What do you even care what I say to this anti-social creep?"
"I CARE BECAUSE WE ALL USED TO BE FRIENDS!"
"Friends...? Please don't make me laugh. What did you call friendship? A relationship merely held together by staples, whose only damn thread is gone? That's what you called friendship?"
"Well... We all protected each other, and looked out for each other!"
"That's bullshit. There was only one person who did all that...and now, she's-"
"DON'T SAY THAT!" Kel is trying to stop this Aubrey girl from saying that word. But at this point, it's unavoidable. They're so focused on their conversation that this Aubrey girl hasn't even noticed me. All right, then. Let it stay that way. I just have to wait for an opportune moment or when everything gets out of control.
"Please...don't make me laugh, you're pathetic, Kel. What don't you want me to say?"

"That Mari is dead, and that freak couldn't save her and abandoned us?" Says this Aubrey girl while pointing at Sunny. At that moment, the boy's whole world, completely collapses. There isn't even a look of horror. There's just a dry stare. Eyes wide open. The boy falls limp to the grass. His face seems to unravel and his jaw unhinges.

"...How could you say such a horrible thing about someone you loved, Aubrey?" Kel asks.

"Oh, for God's sake, Kel, grow up already. The world kept turning. Any feelings I had for all of you have vanished. My unfinished business with Basil doesn't matter. Don't get in my way, or your pale little friend, and everything will be fine."

"You can't go any further, Aubrey. That's enough." Kel gets into a very beginner's fighting stance. Okay, this whole thing got out of hand a few moments ago. I start walking, while lighting another cigarette.

"Yeah right, come on you idiot! Face me if you're so brave!" Aubrey also gets into a much more experienced looking fighting stance, as she holds up her baseball bat. As I'm about to intrude, I spot Basil, who is getting up, and he sees me...I don't know why I get the feeling that he seems to sense me, or recognize that I'm...something else. But his gaze reflects an admiration and fear that I could only recognise in people who have seen the devil in the face. Anyway, I walk about four more steps, and before the fight starts, before the whole thing gets blown out of proportion, I step in between the two of them, while in one swift, simple motion, I wave my trench coat, hurting Aubrey's hand ever so slightly, but enough for her to drop her bat. Kel, upon seeing me, immediately pulls back, but Aubrey tries to get brave with me...but that all ends when she sees my face.

"HEY IDIOT, MOVE AWA- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Aubrey immediately backs away, like she just saw a specter.
"Hey, girl, what's up?"
"W-what's this hobo doing h-here?!" the girl shouts, realizing that she has no shelter anywhere, so she tries to get up and get into a defensive position.
"W-What?" Kel says, trying to pull herself together from the string of emotions he has just felt, only to later manage to pretend everything is okay again, and speak to Aubrey face-to-face again "Ahem! H-Hey! He's no hobo! His name is John Constantine and he's our friend!"

"W-What the fuck?! He's with you guys?!"
"That's right girl" I inhale some of my cigarette, then place it in my mouth "Tell me, why so scared?"
"Why wouldn't I be scared?! Since I saw you yesterday you look like a fucking terrifying guy!"
"Ouch. I'm not terrifying. I'm just a British guy, for fuck's sake."
"That's the scary part! Nothing I say affects you! You look like a fucking robot!"
"And you've assessed that by, I don't know, watching me for, like, four minutes or so? Listen kid, why exactly should I be affected by attempts at intimidation from a punk attempt and her little gangbanger posse? Are you used to that working?"
"Son of a... Listen, you idiot!" Aubrey sits up. She looks like I'm touching a nerve. "You don't know anything about me! You don't know who I am! NEITHER ALL THESE PEOPLE AROUND ME!"
"Ah! Now you'll play the misunderstood, poor girl who is incapable of being accepted! Bloody marvellous! YOU'RE PATHETIC, SHIT!" I enjoy the look on the brat's face. There is a gigantic terror in her. What will she see? The same fear that the people she bullies will see? The same fear she inflicts with her pathetic attempt at a punk band?

"Constantine...I think you've already taken this too personally, ehm...wouldn't it be better if you let me handle this?" Kel puts his hand on my shoulder. Is he really asking me for that shit, after leaving that Basil kid and Sunny in that state? Is he asking me to let this brat go just like that? She preys on the weak, takes out her anger that will come out of nowhere on others. I don't even know if she really loves this little group she has or if she's just using it for her own ends.

And then I see her gaze again. Another look of abject horror. And then I also see the irony in someone like me talking about "people taking advantage of the weak", or someone like me talking about "using people for selfish ends". And when I blink, I realise what's going on. I don't see a girl named Aubrey. I see a punk asshole who thinks he's more than he is, physically abused by his father, who decides to take out his anger and resentment on the world and take advantage of his friends. I see a punk asshole who destroyed his life because he thought a cheap spell would make him look like the great hero of the dark arts. And I keep my head down.

Kel's right. I made this topic too personal. I'm a fucking asshole. And effectively, I'm a guy who looks thirty antagonising a sixteen year old girl. Bloody pathetic.

"...Hey, sorry, kid, I-" Evidently, I get a strong punch in the stomach from this girl. Not only did I antagonize her, not only did I humiliate and terrorize her, but I underestimated her. This girl hits too hard, and manages to knock all the air out of me, sending me tumbling to the ground, and then, with all her rage, and the fact that I am a much stronger adult than her, she takes no consideration with me, she smashes her bat into my face, causing me to hear a resounding crack of my skull, shattering half my face, to the horror of everyone present. Screws fly and Aubrey drops what's left of her bat. And after learning my last name from Kel, this girl blurts out words that, though painful, I'm more than used to by now.

"Constantine. You're a bastard."

Subsequently the girl walks away, leaving me behind spitting blood while only the three boys approach me, and the rest of the people in this town simply decide to pass me by. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Ellie, hidden in the middle of the trees, watching from afar. Her gaze reflects an eagerness to help me. However, things haven't gotten out of control yet, so she proceeds to hide back inside the trees.

"JOHN! ARE YOU CONSCIOUS?! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH AUBREY?" Kel asks as he shakes me, but I, instead of bothering to pretend much, decide to pop another cigarette into my mouth and light it, despite the pain I feel in my lips and the left half of my face, and subsequently, sit up as best I can, staggering, slightly dizzy. I'm not really conscious of my actions.

"It was my fault...I'm...fine...nothing I...haven't suffered before...How...is...Sunny...?"

Sunny is still broken, but he reacted towards what happened to me. Even so, he still looks like a mess. So, trying to comfort him, I stagger over to him, even as Kel insists on pulling me by my trench coat to keep me down on the ground, while the Basil boy just looks on in deep shock at everything that's happening. My vision is slowly blurring. Finally I kneel down in front of Sunny, facing him, and begin to speak, cigarette still on my lips.

"J-John..."
"Sunny...I'll be fine...I just...wanted to tell you..."
I had a whole speech in mind to comfort Sunny. To tell him that really, this is what life is like, and sometimes it deals you some big fucking blows, and sometimes, it deals you some well-earned happiness. But, when my vision gets more and more blurred, and in the distance I only start to see silhouettes that form the image of hundreds of people, that in the front are Anne-Marie, Gary, Frank, Benjamin and Emma, everything goes to hell. Because just behind a silhouette that I assume is Sunny, I see something fucking horrifying.

I see reality itself, I see the fucking abyss. Made of hair and twisted into shreds. And in the centre, a fucking eye. And three ghosts. Three unreadable silhouettes that I could only describe as what stares back at you in the abyss of the deepest stretch of hell. Demons. More horrible than anything I've ever seen, and more powerful than any shit I've ever faced. Negativity, broken childhoods attract them. Reality-Benders. Doom-Fates.

It is then that I fall, passed out, but not before stammering out some words that have always stuck with me throughout my life. Rather terrifying words that have always guided my actions, and have guided me in preventing other idiots from making the same mistakes I did.

"tell you...the ultimate secret of magic...any cunt could do it..."

I hope he never understands the meaning of those words.
Everything goes black when I close my eyes. Or at least it should, shouldn't it? As I hear cries of despair in the distance, and my consciousness slips into another plane, I feel at peace. For a moment. Bloody ephemeral. Until in that moment of transdimensional slipping into sleep, I hear a faint voice transcending barriers. And as it speaks, it speaks only a prayer. A prayer I have never heard before in my life.

Welcome to White Space. You have been living here for as long as you can remember.