A/N: Well, this is it. The end. HOWEVER, I am writing a sequel- set in the same universe, so there will be Eva and Chas and John and Midnite and Finn and River and maybe even Angela- but that storyline didn't to fit here since this was, after all, formatted around the film. The next story will be leaving that particular plot, but will still use some of the canon characters.

Thank you all for your tireless, patient support and commentary. I love having readers who care about what I'm writing. It meant so much to me, especially because I was writing most of this during a period of my life when I didn't know exactly what I was going to be doing or where I would end up.

I may do some edits, but whatever edits there are will be small. The formatting on goes wonky sometimes and I've only just noticed some of that in the earlier chapters.

The morning light was bright and fierce. I wasn't expecting him to keep his word and show up. John Constantine was not a morning person. Neither was I, but I was the "I sleep whenever the fuck I can" type of person.

The sidewalk was still crowded with people. Los Feliz was like that. It didn't matter what time of day it was. I sipped my tea peevishly.

The doctors- I'd finally been convinced to go to the hospital, mostly because I wanted Finn to stop hopefully offering me blood since I didn't know what it would actually do to me even though he said it would help- had insisted I cut back on caffeine while my body was still on the mend. That meant no lattes or cappuccinos.

The end total of damage had been impressive, but not insurmountable. A mild concussion, bruised ribs, one cracked rib, my left shoulder had been dislocated, and they'd also had to remove my spleen, which had ruptured at some point. Thankfully you didn't need a spleen. I'd been in so much pain anyway it wasn't as though I could catalogue what, exactly, hurt most.

Balthazar had also left his mark in the form of fingerprint bruises around my throat and the spectacular black eye that was still a faint bruise, and the hospital had sent me numerous women's crisis counselors. I couldn't tell the truth. I lied and said I'd been mugged and couldn't remember the details. It wasn't a farfetched lie. Everything seemed like a dream. A very long, drawn out, and horrible dream- except, of course, it hadn't been. River was still in the hospital and most likely would be for another two weeks. It had already been three, but Balthazar had done more thorough work on him than on me.

"Morning."

I smiled at John. "Hey," I said, voice raspy from disuse and the damage done to my throat.

He pulled up a chair to my table. I was expecting him to also pull out a cigarette; his fingers twitched but he didn't reach into his blazer pocket after all. That was progress. "You look better."

"So do you." He did look better: less haggard. Stopping smoking had meant he'd gained some weight. There was also some color in his cheeks for the first time since I'd met him. I decided I liked it. His aloof, unreadable expression was still the same, though.

"It's what a clean bill of health will do to you."

We regarded each other, both veterans of a particularly bad battle. "Everything's settled down, then?" I'd been out of the loop and I was in no hurry to return to the astral realm.

"For now," he said. "The calm never lasts, though."

He would know. For most of my adult life I'd been hearing about what this man did to keep the world safe, although I'd learned it was hardly ever as glamorous as hanging out at Midnite's and looking coldly sexy. Just because this apocalypse had passed didn't mean there wasn't going to be another one. But John, while not old by any means, deserved rest in my opinion. I wanted that for him. There had to be an upcoming generation of hotheaded exorcists. I knew there could only be one Constantine, but it wasn't as though his adventures had ever been completely solitary. There'd been Beeman, Midnite, Hennessy, and even Finn.

I still didn't know what relationship Finn and John had, but was three-fourths sure it had at some time involved sex.

"Why don't you just retire? Pass the torch? Now seems like a great time."

I was thinking of Chas, so I wasn't entirely comfortable with the evaluating look he gave me. I knew what it meant. Suddenly, I knew why he'd consented to meet me hours before he normally woke up, and in public, and in a café. "Doesn't it."

"Why?" I said.

"Why not?"

"Because everything was trial by fire for me."

"That's the best way."

I put down my mug. "I'm not even trained."

"I could fix that," he said. "There's not much you'd have to learn from me, anyway."

"You can barely stand one apprentice."

"Chas has graduated, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, yeah, John. He died." Sighing, I skimmed his aura to see if he was serious. He was. The slate gray didn't waver and held no other colors but the usual black."Why me?"

Despite his lack of care for social empathy, he knew this was an important question for me to have answered. There could be no sarcastic retort or ambiguous witticism. I wouldn't say yes if I didn't know exactly why. He leaned back in his chair.

"There are certain qualities I have, and they're the ones that have kept me in this the longest. Longer than anyone I know, except for Midnite. I don't count Finn- even though he's pushing 400- because he wasn't always in this for the balance. Resourcefulness and pigheadedness come to mind. I act first and think while I'm acting. It makes me more effective than the others- wilier and harder to catch." There was no arrogance in his words.

I waited. He continued, "You have those traits too. It annoys everyone else; it annoys me. But they're what you need. I'm not asking you to totally take over, but some help would be nice."

Well, he had that right, at least. I thought about what he said. If I said yes, would it be so different, really, from what I'd been doing? I reflected on my behavior during the past few months.

No. It wouldn't be, when all was said and done. The only difference would be having the intent to enforce the balance rather than only protecting my brother, Chas, John, or myself. Chas couldn't do it the way John could, and somehow I knew that. It didn't mean he was weak or inept. Actually, it probably meant he was a much better person than the rest of us.

But where there should be something rash and unyielding within Chas's soul, there was only eagerness. And anyway, a three-headed monster was more effective than a lone wolf. John knew those days were gone. He'd only taken forever to admit it.

I'd seen what the darkness kept secret. I didn't want to be passive and reactive any longer, even though the idea of taking on responsibility was daunting. There was still the Nothing Man. There were still demons, still half-breeds. There was still enough danger to make my head spin, and the difference between my earlier mentality and the one I had now was purely that I knew what kind of danger there could be.

And the people John cared about hadn't died because of him. They'd died because people die, and because he tried too hard to keep them safe without empowering them. I reached over and took his hand. He looked surprised, breaking into one of his wry, lopsided almost-smiles, but didn't stop me.

"What do we do now, then?"

"We start."