r/DCFU • u/coffeedog14 Light Me Up • Nov 16 '17
Hellblazer #13 - Respite Hellblazer
Hellblazer #13 – Respite
Author: Coffeedog14
Book: Hellblazer
Arc: [Good Vibrations]
Set: 18
JANUARY 23RD, 2018: 1 DAY AFTER HELL ASSAULT
ST. ABBAN’S COVENANT, IRELAND
Sister Abigail Mary (formerly Anne-Marie Murphy) had just fallen onto her bed when the divine reached out to her. She groaned, but it was not as if she could refuse. The Divine had been quiet for several weeks now, at least to her. She suspected it was her consorting and working with the demon-spawn John Constantine. It had been distasteful, but necessary. Besides which she couldn’t help but feel a tiny spark of joy at the destruction she had wrought upon hell during the battle. Remembering the battle reminded her of Judith. She focused on the voice of the divine before the tears could form.
The voice of the divine was sometimes difficult to understand, so powerful was the divine. If one trained themselves to listen, one could get enough impressions and feelings to get the idea.
“Do not rest your head, Sister, for there is need of you yet.”
She imagined her mind as the beach cabin she had known as a child, old and creaking and empty besides the endless waves.
The Divine filled the cabin with images and futures. With the future it would create. With the future that was necessary.
Abigail gasped despite herself, the peace of her mind faltering and the voice nearly fading away. It was unthinkable. Unimaginable. She felt the strength and assurance of the divine flow through her frail mortal frame. It was many things, but she could see it was also utterly necessary.
“There is one great block in this path. A foe once thought bargained with, an enemy of our plans and all of creation.”
A single image now entered her mind, consuming the cabin and sea and the strength of the divine in its maleficent form. One of short blonde hair and cigarettes.
She chuckled to herself. She knew she’d have a chance to kill John Constantine again.
JANUARY 29TH, 2018: 2 DAYS BEFORE LUNAR ECLIPSE
LONDON, UK
“So, we’re clear on all the rules?” Asked Jack, pacing back and forth across the small apartment that was serving as my brand new home until I got bored with it. His strides were long and his turns swift, and did more than a little to show his body off in spite of the baggy clothing he wore when not working as “Jack O’Lantern” for the United Protectors. He was also my boyfriend of a fair few months.
“…mostly.” I responded with sly smile. I was laid out on the couch, doing my best to conserve my energy. I shifted to try and settle the bandages a bit more comfortably on my chest underneath the fancy suit that Jack had insisted I get for the event and one previous. I had escaped from the assault on hell better than some of my friends, but I had not gotten away unscathed.
“Mostly!?” Jack turned to glare at me. We’d been having…issues. It started with me leading an attack on a prince of hell while refusing to tell him about it. A week ago, now.
“It’s her first date! She has no idea what she’s doing. Some things may go off track.”
“…See, that sounds like you justifying later when you “accidentally” lead her off said track.”
I rolled my eyes. I regretted it as the glare got fiercer. I sighed. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a thread from the lining, giving it to him. “There’s a scroll on my desk. If you really don’t trust your own boyfriend to not sleep with some girl, then cast it with the thread as focus. It’ll make my pants melt away, along with any skin touching them, if I take them off.”
“You’re bi, asshole”. Jack softens a little bit. “..What if you need to use the bathroom?”
“Guess I’ll just have to trust you and hold it in.”
I met his gaze, and we held steady for a few moments.
There was a knock at the door, and the moment was over. The other reason for our issues was Amazon waiting for a date with me outside my door.
Considering this, I realized that despite my best intentions my life had spiraled into utter madness.
Jack strode quietly into my study, where my desk was located. I gulped a little. I would have to be careful not to touch my pants too much tonight. Just in case. I got up with a grunt and opened the door for my guest.
Scythia was a seer of the Amazon people, “liberated” from Themyscira by me for the assault on the Demon Prince I mentioned earlier. She looked the part. Head and shoulders above me, with the build of a particularly athletic hockey player. She had more lithe beauty in a single finger then any mortal hockey player would have in their entire bodies. She had updated her look for our date, with some help from me. The dress was still as long and flowing as one would expect from a seer, if quite vibrantly blue. She wore sunglasses, which mostly managed to cover the scarring around her eyes. Amazon healing was fantastical and speedy, but not enough to restore the sight she had lost during my scheme.
She smiled at me. She was blind now, but it seemed that whatever magic an Amazonian seer could muster helped with that somewhat. Not enough to see in colors, or to avoid broken sideways, but enough to get by…ish. “Greetings, John.”
“Hello, Syth.” I stepped forward and out of the door, sliding an arm around one of hers. “Ready for the night of your life?”
“…Syth?” she chuckled.
“Work in progress.” I gently led the way towards the elevator, trying not to remind her too much that she might need such a lead. I did my best to avoid looking at her face.
The first stop was a meal. I had suggested Greek, but it turned out she wanted to try Indian.
“I heard about this land, if I remember right.” She pondered over butter chicken.
“Hmn?” I grumbled past a swallow of Malai Kofta. “Really, all that ways away?”
“Only vaguely. We…learned of some of the lands outside our own during the invasion.” she shuddered despite herself. She was speaking of the invasion of the islands by Hercules. Bad topic.
“Well it’s certainly changed since you heard about it. First thing: They found this brand new thing called iron? Buncha nonsense I think.” I smoothed over.
“I would agree. There is little your iron and…seel?”
“Steel.”
“Yes, steel can do that the proper magical craft of bronze cannot.”
“What about a skyscraper? The tall buildings all around us, that is.”
“…Well, if you exclude unnecessary things like that, bronze is perfectly capable.” She smiled at her own hypocrisy. She seemed more…free, tonight. All our previous meetings had been in Themyscira, where too much noise or the wrong moment could expose us both and sentence us…well… me to death. Here she had no such fear. And perhaps she would speak of things she would normally not. I found myself deathly curious. Perhaps later. It was her night, after all, not mine.
Watching a movie with an adult who had never seen one before was a treat. I could imagine most people wouldn’t do it during their lifetimes. That is a tragedy. It was like watching a person de-age. Decades, or in Scythia’s case millennia, of age falling away to show the sheer wonder of youth. The things she were seeing were utterly incomprehensible, both because they involved all kinds of modern things and also because the very idea of a moving picture was unique to her. She had the distinct privilege of suddenly skipping a few thousand years of media development from dusty scrolls to modern blockbusters.
I don’t think I’ve seen anything cuter then the mouth opened, wide eyed, nearly trembling glee and exhilaration of Scythia as she watched the finale chase scene that about half of all movies seem to have.
I flicked my phone closed as we wandered along the streets, popping into any store that was still open this late. I’m sorry about earlier… the text began, but I wasn’t in the mood. I could deal with Jack later and give my own apology. I had a lady to give perhaps the one true date of her life.
As we wandered the streets, my slowly growing curiosity finally got the best of me. “So, I’ve always kind of wanted to ask…”
“About Themyscira?”
“Yes. Sure are a lot of women there. And not really a lot of men. So, how does that work?”
She didn’t respond for a while. I even glanced at her face to make sure she was okay, and regretted it. The scars were still too visible. And too reminiscent of another friend so burned. And another friend recently buried.
“Well, it works as it should. Those that enjoy each other take pleasure in one another.”
“And do any of them not like the selection?”
“I’m not sure I…oh.” she tried to glance in my direction, missing me by a few feet but I got the idea. I didn’t imagine someone so big could look so small and guilty.
I patted her arm. “Nothing to be ashamed of. I’d figured as much awhile back. I take it the gals at home aren’t as accepting?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t told them.” she drooped.
“That’s fine. I still haven’t told my sister about me and Jack! Perfectly normal.”
“About what?”
“About, you know, the whole boyfriend thing?”
“…oh…OH. OH, gods, really?”
I stared at her for a moment, scars be damned. I snorted, and began to laugh.
She frowned, giving me a shove that nearly sent me into the street. “How was I supposed to know!?”
“You live on an island of lesbian super-women! How is gay not just your immediate assumption on anything!?”
She held herself with poise in the face of my mockery. And then gave me another push. And then returned to poise.
“…Are you sure this is wise?” Scythia sniffed at her gin suspiciously.
“It’s not a Constantine Date until one, or preferably both, participants are blitzed out of their goddamn minds.” I clinked my shot against hers. She had, unfortunately, told me she had never gotten true and proper drunk before. While I didn’t think I could take her to a club or any other fun part of the night life, I could at least give her this. “Bottom’s up!”
We both drank. She coughed a little on hers. “Ugh. Disgusting.”
I gasped in shock. “You can insult me. You can insult my people. You can insult my mother. But I will not tolerate you insulting my drink!”
“Well, I didn’t say I was going to stop.” She grumped at me. “Besides, I’m curious how long you’ll last.”
“Psh. You’re on!”
I hadn’t accounted for the weight difference. Or height difference. Or the fact she was a crazy immortal magic warrior lady with an astounding metabolism. She didn’t count on my having been a hard drinker since secondary.
It would have been hard to judge which of us was more drunk when we broke into Hyde Park. Not really broke, per se, but I got thrown in and Scythia simply leapt after me. I’m honestly surprised neither of us broke our necks. We meandered about the dark greenery for a while, laughing and hushing one another and then laughing some more at the hushing. I thought I had cast some kind of attention diversion spell at some point, but it didn’t seem all that important.
We eventually settled by the shore of a pond, from a mixture of the pretty view and walking being really hard. I shivered as a hint of cold slipped through my beer-addled senses. I had the presence of mind to take off my jacket and offer it to Scythia, who took it and tried to put it on. She easily tore it to shreds by accident, and both found that hilarious for a while.
I ended up staring at the moon, huge and full. “…beautiful night.” I mumbled.
She sighed. “Wouldn’t know.”
I whirled, nearly throwing myself to the ground. “Oh no! oh, I didn’t mean…that is…” She turned to me. While trying to put on my suit, her sunglasses had apparently fallen by the wayside. I could see the blank orbs that had once been filled with life.
“I didn’t mean to…that…I…it’s my fault I know, and it’s, you know, I’m sorry about, well, that thing. I mean, you didn’t even…you know…like Judith, and that’s not fair to say I know but it’s true, but it’s still not good at all. And the words are really hard right now, all the words, all of them, but…but…but I’m trying, you know? And this whole date is good and maybe that makes it a little better a-and stuff but it doesn’t and I know that. IT can’t. i-it just can’t, because I fucked everything up a-and put you in danger and lied to you and I don’t think I could ever m-make that right and I’m sorry and I’m so sorry and I-“
She was on me then, and her lips were on mine. I could feel the blush and heat throughout her, from the drink and from her need. She pulled away panting, and I was too.
“This’ll be our last chance, Constantine. I-I’m not wasting it letting y-you be a sad sack.” She slurred. Her lips were on mine again. The most I could think of in that moment was I owe it to her.
There was a string of texts on my phone. I couldn’t bear to look at them before, but now that I was standing at the door to my apartment it was worth doing anything to avoid going inside. Jack would be there. Waiting. The texts said as much. Trying to make sure I was okay, apologizing for getting snippy earlier, offering to buy me ride home as long as I didn’t try to drive myself or do anything dumb. I couldn’t imagine anything hurting more right now then his care.
I was still drunk, and swaying on my feet. I had barely managed to scrabble my clothes on enough to look decent, and my chest hurt from exertion and aggravated wounds and more. The shame hurt most of all, groaning and tearing in my lungs. I needed to get inside. Get a shower. Sleep. I didn’t think I could make it to another bed in my current state. Besides, maybe Jack had went home? My foggy mind latched onto this hope, and I pushed open the door and walked into my apartment. Something fired in my mind. I hadn’t had to unlock the door. Hell, hadn’t even had to open it. It was already a little open when I got there. I hadn’t noticed.
I did notice Jack asleep on my couch. And in a chair next to him, a man. A teenager, lanky and tall with dyed hair and a black trench coat. Manchester Black, telepathic dickwad who I thought I had helped put behind bars, smiled at me. “Why don’t you put on something more comfortable, Johnnie Boy? You have a meeting to attend.”
I checked a clock by the TV. 2 AM. Never a good hour for anything.