Disclaimer: I do not own Constantine or anything affiliated with it. It is owned by DC/Vertigo and Warner Bros. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made.

Time Line: Post-film.
Character(s): John Constantine
Pairing(s): John/Gabriel, John/Angela
Author's Note: I needed to get this out of my head.

Summary: "Oh, what a world!" the Wicked Witch of the West cries on his antiquated television set, and he thinks, You don't know the half of it, lady.

Drop Off the Edge Again
by: chopsticks
pg-13

-----

"I'll see you around."

Except he doesn't.

-----

"Oh, what a world!" the Wicked Witch of the West cries on his antiquated television set, and he thinks, You don't know the half of it, lady.

-----

He knows she comes by to see him, but he's never home any more. He's too busy being out in the world, deporting the half-breeds that cross the line part of the time, and remembering what it's like to breathe clearly, to think without a constant hangover lurking on the edges of his consciousness the other part.

John Constantine, on the straight and narrow (so to speak). The irony is enough to make him want a stiff drink.

-----

There's a funeral for Chas, and it turns out he didn't know the kid that well at all. The church is packed, mourners dressed in somber colors wiping their eyes with stark-white tissues, and the kid's parents look at him with something akin to blame. He ignores them and listens to the hypocrites singing hymns, sacred words of praise flowing from mouths that only believe in Him when it's convenient.

And Gabriel still gives him shit about not having any faith.

-----

All of his allies are dead, and he's kind of pissed off about that. He goes to see Midnite in the hopes that he won't simply spout his dreary bullshit line about neutrality and will, at least, recommend some people to him, but of course Midnite is Midnite.

He can't even argue with his old friend, because both sides actually are playing by the rules again.

-----

Sometimes he wonders what happened to Mammon. The over-achieving Son of Evil probably got a slap on the wrist and was sent off to play with his demon friends, he figures. After all, humanity is based on the glories and deprivations of the Divine.

Or maybe it's more like: monkey see, monkey do.

Even his newfound assurance of a good afterlife isn't enough to dispel the cynicism twenty years of fiery inevitability has ingrained into him.

-----

He reads Good Omens again, and wishes it were all that simple. If only the Son of the Devil was a snot-nosed kid rather than the mass-murdering demon he really is.

And if wishes were horses, he thinks wryly.

-----

He wakes to the pounding on the door, and he's out of bed and grabbing the nearest handy weapon (an ampule of holy water, and he still loves the way it fits perfectly in his palm). He rushes to the door, blood pounding in his ears and rendering him partially deaf. There, on the other side of the door, is no danger in the conventional definition of the word. It's only Gabriel, and he thinks that might be worse than a demon half-breed come to slaughter him in his sleep.

Well, he thinks, it wouldn't have been a very smart half-breed in this case, but what ones are?

Before he can even ask what Gabriel is doing there, she (and she is most assuredly a she now, judging from the clothes and slightly wild look in her eyes) steps into his personal space and demands, "What is this feeling? I can't get rid of it, this shaky, anxious feeling that crawls underneath my skin and infects my thoughts...."

She trails off and breathes deeply, leaning into him and letting out a little whimper. Shit, he thinks, she just discovered her own sexuality. Of course she'd come to him for this, of course. Before he can pull away, back out of her personal space and put a chair or a table or something between them, she grabs the back of his head and drags his mouth to hers for a hungry kiss. He doesn't respond for a moment, mind drawing blanks and more blanks. Then:

Fuck it, and he kisses her back, because it has been too long for him as well. Besides, she'll never know that he's thinking of long dark hair rather than her short blond hair when he comes.

-----

Gabriel is gone the next morning, and he's not surprised. He assumes she went off to take part in some self-flagellation after last night's activities. He takes a shower, letting the night before seep out of his mind as the water runs down his body--his own personal cleansing ritual.

He eats his breakfast and packs his bags for another exorcism, the bag filled with practiced precision.

He thinks, not for the first time, that he should probably find another apprentice; he's getting sick of driving himself around.

-----

She finally shows up at his door one day when he's home, lounging in the flickering light of his television.

"Remember me?" she asks with a hint of a smile on her face. He belatedly remembers that she's a psychic, and of course would only appear when she knows it's time.

"Not at all. Should I?" he comments back, feeling his own mouth twitch in response.

He opens the door wider and lets her in, and thinks he's about ready for another apprentice--or whatever she intends to be.

-----

the end.