I like writing sad fanfic and I decided to whip this bad baby out. This is just one of the many fanfics I've started for the show, so they'll get posted soon. I'm on a good pace with all of them so they won't end up in dead space aka not being posted.

Again, I'm not sure how old Geraldine is gonna be in the show so I headcanon'd her as a twelve year old. I'm basing Renee from what I've seen of her in the comics. I tried doing my best to keep John and Chas in character so yeah.

I guess this can be seen as platonic JohnChas or sexual tension JohnChas.

Trigger warnings: mentions of past child abuse, alcoholism and dead characters.

Thanks to my beta, Kat, for betaing and doing her magic! Go check her out! She's consultingstarkofmischief, has hella rad fanfics. Love ya sis!

Anyways, disclaimer is obvious, I don't own Constantine. Enjoy!

John spent the rest of his night on the hood of his old truck, drinking beer and taking drags of his cigarette between sips. The case was done and over with. The little ones were still running around in costumes, Halloween in full swing. The little buggers didn't know how easy they had it. Best for them not knowing, that's for sure.

He was debating making it a drinking game to see who could spot the most primary school girls dressed as princesses that ran by the truck, but seeing that Chas was the designated driver, he dropped the idea.

Unlike being at the school, his presence didn't arise much suspicion from other parents. He was still parked in front of Henry's parents house, just leaning back on the windshield. For all anyone knew, he could've just been a family friend visiting. And they were all too busy with their own kids to even notice him.

Chas was inside of the truck, still recovering from the strong hit possessed Henry threw at him with. And by recovering, he was laying down and using a spare blanket to keep himself warm. He needed the rest desperately. Not just because of the hit, but because it was a long drive back and John had no idea how to drive.

Concerning Chas's health, John knew he had nothing to worry about. Chas could and would heal right back to original factory settings.

This case had felt a little more personal than others. The troubled soul, the history behind each victim, they all hit a little bit too close to the home John swore he had left behind. Sure, he was no Zed, but that bloody tree stump had given off so much dark, and troubled energy that he hadn't felt in a long while. It left chills on his skin, feeling the aura of the cruelty that the parents did to their son.

Some parents he knew were great. Others were absolute shit, and really had no right to be parents at all.

He knew how it felt first hand.

Bloody Manny. Bastard angel, unplugged all those holes I made sure were corked.

Just the thought of his father made him rub at his arm, all in the same spots that were used as a makeshift ashtray many, many years ago. When he was a young, confused and scared kid back in Liverpool.

John had been jumpy all night, all for the same reasons. He guessed he did a decent job on hiding it since Chas didn't press him on it, or asked him about it. The seance (that only summoned a three legged Bambi) had reminded him of Newcastle too much, and that itself was already dark enough. The fact that another innocent child's life was at stake scared him more. Astra had already been lost due to his mistakes, he might as well add Gary to that list. The freshly dug grave a couple dozen meters from the mill house proved that.

Families were at risk due to a troubled soul, and John didn't want to add another kid to the list. No more death, just for once. No more sodding death.

The actions of the troubled soul, just how dark the things he had gone through, the atmosphere of his parents…them going as far as to chop off his fingers.

Jesus, it was too much to handle.

John let out a sigh and leaned his head back onto the windshield, looking up at the trees illuminated by the streetlights. The cigarette was still between his fingers, feeling the heat and smoke hanging in the air. He brought it up to his lips, taking a long drag and letting it out. The burning at the back of his throat feeding his mood. He had accepted the beer Chas offered gratefully, because he knew damn well that after something as chaotic, as nerve wracking as tonight, he could at least use a beer.

Then again, a stronger drink could do the job. But they didn't have any in their cooler. Something for another time. But for now, he was just worn out. Done. In the need to sleep and keep on sleeping until all of this was behind him.

Cases were never just a risky thing themselves. Sometimes, they posed a life threatening situation, when one move could easily leave someone dead.

Today had been one of them. John's been through those all too many times before, but he still couldn't get used to them. He'd stay shaky and nervous, feeling the after effects of the situation. Adrenaline kept him up at night, bringing back too many reminders from the past.

Goddammit, not again.

Shit, it was happening. Unplugging something you worked so damn hard to not look at ever again meant that when those things started flowing back, and they flowed back hard. Like a dam breaking, like a empty bottle shattering in the dead of night, like a hand swinging at him for dropping a dish.

Ah shit, not now.

John gritted his teeth and massaged his temples. He really should take a swing at Manny next time he saw the that sodding angel. He played with his lighter more than necessary and squeezed the neck of the beer bottle a little too tightly. That annoying leg jitter that Chas always hated was coming around. John's hands were becoming sweaty around the bottle and cigarette, his body was starting to feel the nerves he had in the fun house. And that sinking feeling in his stomach he had years ago, when he lived back in Liverpool in the home he swore to never return to, was coming back.

Abandonment, begging Cheryl to take him with her. To not leave him with their father, crying his eyes out. How old had he be been? 11? 13? Being utterly terrified, so scared of doing anything that provoked his father.

No one should go through that.

No, no, no, these memories were supposed to stay back in Liverpool.

Dropping the lighter on his lap, John took a few deep breaths. He massaged his temples some more running his hands over his hair, mentally counting to ten. He could still feel the throb from the shiner left from the kid's dad, another reminder of the past.

Fuck, stop it. Stop it John.

What was it that Chas always said helped? A distraction. Right.

Willing his body to calm down a bit, he focused on the scene unfolding only a few cars ahead. Another horde of little girls with glittery wings went to ask for candy at a house with only a smiling pumpkin as decoration on their porch. Instead of receiving any, they were chased down by a larger kid dressed as a (ripoff) werewolf. In the midst of running and screaming away, they were dropping candy from their plastic pumpkins to the ground, only to have other kids lunge for them like animals after prey.

John let out a small chuckle. They never change.

He was bad with kids, that's for sure, but the kids themselves weren't that bad. Brats, of course, he'd know. He used to be one. But they were still full of energy, still blissfully unaware of the dark, scary world out there.

A slightly older kid, maybe around twelve or so, ran across the street to follow her younger sibling to another house.

Her braided hair going down her back reminded John of Geraldine, Chas's kid. From the pictures he'd seen, and Chas's cellphone background, she tended to wear them in braids a lot.

Shit, Renée did leave him.

John hadn't known about Chas's wife leaving him, until he held the Sword of Night. Damn it. He prided himself in being Chas's best mate, and sometimes his better half, so why didn't pick up on it?

Was he that self involved that he didn't notice any of it?

He's assuming Renée took Geraldine with her, since Chas mentioned that he wasn't going home. The comment had taken backseat with the entire case going on, given that John had been too preoccupied with saving the kid.

The first and only time that John visited the complete Chandler family he learned three things; Geraldine was a very good person and John commended Chas for raising her, Geraldine had a heart of gold like her father, and he also learned that Renée didn't just not like him; she hated him.

She didn't approve of his lifestyle, of what he did, of the kind of things he did, who he was, his existence. That list could go on. Chas was John's best friend and how Chas always made time for him no matter what, sometimes dropping his things and going to haul John's ass out of the fire. As John did in return, because that's what friends do.

At the end of the first and only visit, Renée told John straight up that she wanted him to get the hell away from her family. John didn't protest, didn't argue back. Instead he nodded and said, "As you wish." He tried keeping his comments about Renee to a minimum because while she was a bit of a bitch, she was still his best friend's wife.

Something told John that Renée leaving Chas had to do with him.

"Ready to go?" Chas asked, breaking John out of his thoughts.

"Yeah," John said. He slipped off the hood and stubbed the cigarette onto the ground with the bottom of his shoe.

He felt the familiar hum of the trunk underneath him as he buckled his seatbelt. A loud door slam caught him off guard from the driver's side, making him jump some, but it was just Chas.

Chas noticed right away. John still had that uneasiness with him, hands fiddling with his seatbelt. So much for keeping it under wraps, keeping it cool.

"Are you okay?" Chas asked.

John nodded. "Yeah. Why?"

"You been jumpy all night," Chas said.

So much for keeping it under wraps. That was too obvious. But luckily, Henry's mother was terrified as John was, so his fear wasn't touched upon by her. "You should've seen me in the Fun House. I punched a prop," John made it sound like he was joking, but that annoying animatronic scared the shit out of him. Twice.

Chas shot him another pointed look.

John knew that look. He's been receiving that look from Chas for the past ten years. He waved him away. "It's nothing, Chas. Just the typical post case rubbish," he said before adding, "First exorcism after Newcastle." He felt it was sufficient enough of an explanation. Even he didn't talk about Newcastle with Chas sometimes.

"Oh."

A brief silence followed between the two as Chas drove on, leaving behind the suburbs and into the city.

"Are you sure you're okay, Chas?" John asked.

"Don't ask me, you look far more troubled than I am."

"I'm fine. Shiner ain't that bad," John insisted. The blow still stung a little bit, but it wasn't as painful as it had been earlier. He still had a few strong bruises that ached from the earlier fight in the fun house, but that was nothing a pill couldn't fix.

"I wasn't talking about the eye."

The silence lingered for a few moments.

Finally, John sighed. He should've known that Chas would tell that something was off. Chas always did that. He knew things even though John didn't have to say them out loud. "Agh, fine. It's nothing, really. Its just...well, the case felt too personal tonight, okay? Things that should've stayed back in the past came back. Didn't see it coming, and I'm still recovering from it," he said.

"How bad was it?" Chas asked.

"Bad enough," John said, finalizing his talk on the subject. It was already something he didn't want to really go deep in discussion about. Today had been too heart wrenching to deal with. It was bad enough to feel the nerves again, the same fear he thought was gone.

Silence continued lingering between them. They drove by dozens of businesses closing for the night, fall festivals at churches wrapping up their event and small groups of dressed up children walking through the parking lot with their parents tailing behind them. The clock on the radio read a quarter to 11. They'd probably arrive at the millhouse at 1, depending if they don't run into any trouble. The radio remained off, leaving nothing but the hum of the truck on the road.

Anxious, John felt in his pockets for his lighter and took it out, playing with it. He used some small basic sleight of hand movements as he made himself busy. Part of him was itching to get another cigarette and smoke it down to a nub. Chas didn't like seeing him smoke in the car. Got him paranoid about an accident happening.

After a questionable amount of silence, John finally broke it by asking Chas, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"Renee."

"Oh."

Chas kept his eyes fixed on the road, grip on the steering wheel looking considerably tight.

"How come you didn't say?" John asked.

Chas shrugged. "I figured you already had enough issues to deal with, the whole Rising Darkness and all. And...well, it was still settling in. It's still settling in," he said. "It hurts."

"You know I'm here to listen."

"I know. It's just...it takes time to adjust. And I wasn't ready on telling you until...well, I wasn't ready."

"How long ago was it?"

"A week and a half," Chas said with resigned sorrow. "I guess I wasn't enough for her to not leave."

Shit. It was recent. Worst part was that Chas had already accepted, had already given up.

What could John say? That Chas deserved better? That he was better off without her? It wouldn't work. His best friend was clearly in pain, heartbroken that his wife, the woman he loved, left him. Not only just his wife, but also his kid. Geraldine was Chas's pride and joy, and now she was gone along with her mother.

Christ. How long had he not noticed?

"You know, you can stay at the mill house if you want," John said.

Truth be told, John could practically imagine Chas having to go to his empty house with the absence of his wife and daughter. He knew that feeling of unbearable silence, no longer feeling someone's presence that used to be there.

Chas had been there for John plenty of times before. He had saved him on various occasions, made sure that John hadn't fucked up enough. Even though John knew he whined about it and teased Chas for being a mother hen, he knew that he cared. He knew it all too well. Gestures shown with his actions; asking John if he was okay, if he had eaten, if he slept well. Sometimes checking for a fever if John looked sick, with John muttering about it throughout the whole process.

Chas was too good for him. Too damn good to be stuck with someone like John. He didn't get how out of all the people, Chas chose to stick by his side.

"You're good with that?"

"Of course I am. It gets a bit lonely around there. I could always use company."

Today, John wanted to repay that. To show that he cared about the wellbeing of his best friend.

"There's spare rooms, I think I got one set up for you. Or I can give up my bed. Looks like I won't be sleeping for the night."

Like hell he was. He was too strung up from everything. It'd take a few more than just a few strong drinks to get him some decent sleep.

"You too wired up from the case?" Chas asked.

"Yeah," John said. "It's so fucked up, how a parent could do that to their kid. Sure, they're brats but going as far to chop off their fingers?" he let out a small scoff of disgust.

He didn't sympathize with the spirit going about and fucking things up, that's for sure. But that was just horrible. Left him with a sick feeling in his stomach.

"It's different for me," Chas said, grip tight on the steering wheel. "I mean, I felt that fear Henry's mom had from a parent's perspective. If that….If that were Geraldine…." he stopped himself there. "Shit. Geraldine."

John didn't say anything, merely watching as Chas struggled, trying to think of what to say.

"That's...That's my little girl," Chas said. "It was all so fast. I came home from New Orleans and they were about to leave. Had all their things packed. Renee said she was moving out and taking Geraldine, leaving me. I didn't even fight her on it."

Fuck, that was cold. No warning, just walking out on him.

"I just….I gave up. I let her go. I guess this one is on me," Chas said. "I was away from home for a while, a long while. I wasn't enough for Renee."

Fuck, it was because of John. Not Chas, but John. He should've seen it coming, should've told Chas that he didn't have to come along on cases. He should have thought ahead about Chas's wife, about his family.

"None of this is on you. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I'm sorry," John said. "I drag you around on these cases, didn't think of the effect it'd take on you."

"Last I checked mate, Geraldine was the loving one out of the bunch. And you, you're a damn good dad, Chas. I know Geraldine will forgive you."

"I want to visit her."

"You're her father, of course you can visit her."

"Look at us, talking about our feelings. Not even two hours ago I was chasing a possessed kid. We're getting soft," John joked.

"Not even two hours ago, I got hit with a car."

"And you're still up and kicking," John said. "We need a strong drink," John said. "It'll help to at least temporarily forget and get over this mess."

"I'm not going to a shady bar this late at night."

"Who needs a bar? Old man Jasper has some good booze collecting dust and I'm not letting it go to waste. Zed doesn't drink too, so it's only me enjoying it."

"No promises."

As promised, John got out the whiskey and poured two glasses, almost full to the brim. He knew he was going to regret it in the morning with the pounding headache, but like he told Chas, old man Jasper kept some good liquor and John wasn't going to go about and let it waste.

Whiskey always helped John to forget a few things, even if it was for the night. He used it a lot after Newcastle, before he checked himself into the asylum.

The old air conditioning unit filled the background with a faint, barely there hum. It kept the room cool, mixing the smells of old books and dust, something John had grown so familiar to over the previous months.

Normally, the mill house was empty except for John and the many hallways and rooms still awaiting to be explored. John spent most of his time in the library or his bedroom, which he picked to be closer to the library. A small sense of familiarity in the home he had.

But it felt much more domestic with Chas sitting in the barely occupied living room. The only time the leather couches provided any use was when Zed took naps after mind training proved to be exhausting. She took some blankets from John's room and kept them folded on the arm chair. John didn't bother to take them back. When Zed or Chas weren't in the mill house, he'd take advantage of the time to pull all nighters. They would constantly harp to him about it, tell him to not overwork himself.

He knew they meant well. They always did. But when the fate of the world depended on him to prevent eternal damnation, he'd work himself tired. Reading upon reading, trying to memorize spells.

By the time he finished, he'd be too exhausted to go back to his bedroom and would collapse onto the sofa, using the blankets too.

John held out the drink to Chas. Seeing his hesitance, he said "We're not going anywhere for a while, c'mon."

Chas sighed and accepted the drink. He looked too worn out to say otherwise.

With the bottle on the coffee table, John sat down next to Chas, legs and arms touching. The close proximity felt familiar, bringing back memories of shared couches and shared beds. Touches that would have gone further under different circumstances, with the intimacy stepping further than their platonic bounds.

They could both feel the potential of them taking it further, into something more intimate and passionate. John knew it, Chas knew it. But they didn't act on it, didn't dare to either. Chas had a family, John wasn't about to fuck it up for his own selfish pleasures.

They sat in comfortable silence as they drank. The alcohol going down John's throat still gave him that burn and he could feel his senses slowly start turning fuzzy. He wasn't drunk, maybe barely buzzed, but John leaned his head on Chas's shoulder. It felt like the right thing to do. To show some support, to ease his nerves down. And to John's surprise, Chas leaned his head slightly on John's, John feeling the added weight.

Their hands without the drinks were free, barely touching. Softly, John felt Chas's fingers intertwine with his own, his large warm palm almost circling entirely over his. John reciprocated, holding Chas's hand and giving it a small squeeze. He let his body relax some, the earlier agitation wearing away with the drink, with the touch.

"I'm sorry," John said. "I ask too much of you. Taking you away for these cases, from your family. I didn't realize just how bad I'd fucked it up for you."

"It's not your fault," Chas said.

"But it's always me who takes you away," John insisted.

"John, I like going on cases with you. You're my best friend. I'd take a bullet for you and know it. Hell, I've done it."

John stayed silent.

"What happened with Renee has nothing to do with you. Going on cases with you are a good distraction. Distractions always help. And like I said, I'd do anything for you. So it isn't your fault. None of it is."

"You're not just saying this because of the whiskey, right?" John asked.

Chas chuckled, "They say that the drunk always says the truth."

"Ha."

John took another long gulp of the drink and winced, feeling the burn. He yawned and leaned further into Chas, sighing. His warmth felt nice against his skin. Chas let go of John's hand and wrapped his around his shoulders, settling back into the sofa cushions. Now this was more comfortable.

He could feel the exhaustion wear in after the adrenaline was going away. He was nearly done with his drink.

Might as well.

John downed it all in one gulp and set it down on the coffee table. He was done for the night.

He leaned further into Chas, relishing in the warmth. "Mmm...Feels good."

"Don't get too comfortable," Chas said. "I'm not carrying you upstairs if you fall asleep."

"Don't have to go upstairs…Couch is not that bad...Zed left some blankets on the arm chair," John said, then he looked up with a small grin, "We could cuddle up like the old days, when I was too broke to afford a room."

Chas let out a scoff. "You're always too broke to afford a room."

"Bollocks."

"I'm not even kidding. If it weren't for me, you'd be sleeping in the trunk of that damned truck. Miracle that thing hasn't fallen apart."

"I don't see your fascination for chain hotels."

"Yet you're the one conning the receptionist for the honeymoon suite for one."

"It's more spacious, gives me more room. Bed's bigger too."

"You always hogged the blanket."

"Had to. You took up most of the bed."

Chas laughed, John feeling the rhythm against his cheek. "I took up the bed? John, I was the bed. I woke up every morning with you on top of me, wrapped up in the blanket."

"It's always me trying to haul your broke ass off of me and out of the fire," Chas continued. "You wouldn't let go."

"I didn't want to," John paused. "Chas, I'm here for you. Through thick and thin, life or death, Heaven or Hell. Always."

Chas kissed John on the top of his blond head, "I know."

Ahhh that was feels worthy, for me it was anyways. Anyways, thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos are always welcome! :D