Title: The Devil's Own
Author: Mercuria
Rating: PG-13 (swearing, slash, blaspheming)
Pairing: Lucifer/Constantine
Summary: John's the one soul that the Devil would come to earth to collect.
Notes: This is a total work in progress. If anyone has any critique for me, I'd be really grateful to hear it. Thanks! (Oh, and for some reason I can't make a dash, only hyphens. Anyone know how to fix that?)

John … John …

He sits up in bed, tangled in the sheets. Wipes the sweat from his brow and looks wildly into the dark. Other than the distant honks and screeching of traffic, nothing penetrates the nighttime silence. John finds himself almost nostalgic for his hacking cough.

John …

He can still feel the hot sulfur-breath against his ear. Those hands gripping his shoulders like talons. And that impeccably, hypocritically white suit- but then, he is the Father of Lies.

Lucifer.

You're mine, John.

John fumbles on his nightstand for the goddamn Nicorette, Unwraps it, pops it into his mouth, and chews. He tried going cold turkey for a few days, but that didn't work out too well. The nicotine soothes him, and besides, he likes putting a little poison back in his system. A nice "fuck you" to Satan.

Which, now that he thinks on it, might be exactly what Satan wants.

John extricates himself from his sheets and goes to the window. He thinks restlessly that he should be out, prowling the filthy streets with the criminals and half-breeds. The gum's starting to tingle in his mouth, meaning that he's supposed to stop chewing and let it sit, but right now he doesn't much care. He wants out.

John …

He just has to close his eyes and he's there again: on the floor with the blood and the glass and the tar, Lu sitting there looking like he just came from some fucking casino. Leaning in with his teeth bared and his eyes heavy-lidded, tongue a hair's breadth from John's cheek. His desire and his hunger were palpable, as were the thousands of tortures that flickered in his eyes: maiming, crushed bones, crucifixion, rape … and fire, always fire. All for him. John can still see it.

God and the Devil are really exactly the same, he thinks as he leans against the glass. Both grant him the gift of life, but always with a price tag. God does it to put John on a leash. Lu wants him to shatter. Both do it out of love.

You're mine, John …

He chuckles in the dark. Love's a funny thing to call it. Hilarious, actually. The panic still rises in his throat when he thinks of that moment between Heaven and earth when he realized that Lucifer could still reach him. Maybe he can always reach him. After all he's done, wouldn't that be ironic? In keeping with the whole cosmic joke theme, though. He has to hand it to the divine for keeping things fun.

John slips on his shoes and reaches into the closet for his jacket. He doesn't feel like staying in and contemplating the motivations of Good and Evil. When it comes down to it, he really doesn't care.

John …

All he knows is that neither of them has him yet.