"I was born this way, John, it's not even my fault that it happened. I didn't even know 'til I was eighteen." She didn't want to have to tell her life-story, but it seemed it was the only way to explain what had happened to her and how she had gotten to be this way. She'll stand and go for the liquor cabinet, removing a bottle of something that looked like it had a strong alcoholic content and grabbing two glasses. She sat across from John, set the two glasses on the nightstand, poured two glasses and began with a heavy breath.

"My mum cheated on my da' while he was out fighting the war. She had no idea that the man she slept with was a fallen angel or that she had conceived a child. My dad came back and they got back together so when she did find out she was pregnant, she just assumed it was his. My parent's marriage was toxic…rocky…and my birth was like adding gasoline to an already burning fire."

John listened intently and he could practically tell there was a shit-storm coming, just from the start of the story. He also could understand the whole rough childhood. His father had been an alcoholic and a pervert of indescribable proportions [1] and John had lost his innocence when he was quite young, though it had nothing to do with sex [2]. He picked up the glass of alcohol she had poured for him and took a sip, keeping his eyes on her as she took her own glass and set it in her lap, fingers holding the glass tightly as she continued.

"Um…my sister was born when I was four…she died about a year or so after I left home. Her death was like…" She made a gun with her hand, and 'fired' it. "A trigger for my abilities, I guess. Meeting my real dad only made them become more prominent and naturally, require more control. I started to hurt people because of my lack of control so I've been practicing control with my dad."

"What exactly can you do?" He decided it'd be best not to ask questions about her story. It would only cause her more pain. Besides, he preferred it that way himself. He also wanted to know more about her abilities, both to know what she was capable of in case he ever needed to stop her and because of a sick curiosity.

"Lots of things." She replied and she moved her gaze to the bottle on the nightstand. He turned his head as well and watched as it steadily slid across the wood to him. He grabbed it and poured himself more before setting it back down. He then watched as it slid right back. "See?"

"Telekinesis…hm…" He made an impressed face before taking a sip of his glass, again keeping his eyes on her. He knew of some of the abilities of half-breeds, but not all of them: she could be of some use to him. Being aware of what half-breeds could and could not do would make him a more capable exorcist and demonologist and might help keep him out of Hell.

"I'm also capable of controlling the weather, pyrokinesis, and the basic superhuman strength, healing and all that good shit." She'll shrug and take a swig of her drink finally, swallowing slowly. "My blood also has an ability to heal others when ingested, which is why you're healing so quickly."

Wait…what?

"You fed me your blood?" She'd turned him into some kind of vampire?! This was just getting worse and worse.

"It was the only way to keep you alive, so yes." She shifted nervously, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Great. So now I'm some kind of fuckin' vampire!" He proclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, frustration evident.

"No. It has no adverse effects, really. You'll heal and be fine. No weird blood cravings. It only becomes a problem if you have too much. Then you can get addicted." She states flatly, ruffling her hair again. It was a nervous tic of hers, just like biting her lip or pulling on her bottom lip.

"Okay, for future reference, don't give me things without my knowledge. I feel like a college girl whose been given GHB."

"Except this isn't a date-rape, John, Jesus Christ. I saved your life! Would you have rather I stopped to ask you? 'Oh hey, half-dead man I'm sleeping with, you cool with me bleeding in your mouth to save your life'? Why is it I feel like the answer would've been yes?"

He didn't know what to say. She was right, and they both knew it. At this point, if he died, he didn't know where he was going, Heaven or Hell, and it terrified him to the point that he refused to die or put himself in situations where he could. John Constantine wasn't sticking his neck out anymore, because he was afraid of losing it. He was afraid of where he might end up.

"Get out."

"Fine. Don't have to tell me twice."

He watched her gather her things and leave, doing so with such frustration that he hadn't seen in her before. It didn't look good on her. She pushed her dark hair from her face and paused in front of him, jabbing an accusatory finger into his chest.

"You know what, John, this is bullshit! I've always been there for you, ever since we met but just because I didn't tell you about this, you're not gonna be there for me? What a joke."

Then she'll turn and leave him to himself, slamming the door behind her, shaking the apartment to its very foundations. God damn. She wasn't joking about superhuman strength. He sighed and looked to the glass of alcohol she had left, quickly downing his own before grabbing her unfinished one and downing it as well.

"Fuck."

Then he quickly got dressed and grabbed his coat, rushing out of the apartment after her.

NOTES:

[1]: In the comics, John's father was an alcoholic and was also imprisoned for stealing a female neighbor's underwear.

[2]: Also in the comics, John's first act of magic was to hide all of his childhood innocence and vulnerability in a box to rid himself of it.