Chương 16: Chapter 16: Superstition Ain't the Way
Knock, knock.
John Constantine stood on the other side of the door, his eyes narrowed suspiciously at the wooden structure. It wasn't like anyone he knew would ever knock, and he was pretty sure that Girl Scouts hadn't found the House of Mystery either (besides, it wasn't their cookie season yet).
Maybe if he stood there longer, whatever was making that sound would go away. Not likely, but a man could dream.
Knock, knock.
John groaned, knowing that if he didn't open it, the House probably would anyways. Defeatedly, he yanked the door wide open to find an unfamiliar brunet male facing him.
"Mr. Constantine?" The man asked in a hesitant tone. John looked down to see he was holding some sort of file, and immediately concluded that this person was seeking some sort of exorcism.
"No." He slammed the door in his face and spun on his heel to go back to studying some ancient scrolls – or he would have, if the bloody House hadn't decided to remove the hallway and trap him in the foyer. John sneered in ire and pulled a lighter out of his shirt pocket, shaking it at the ceiling. "It wouldn't be the first time I burnt a building down!" Nothing came of his threat, as expected, so John settled for snatching a cigarette from his back pocket and lighting that instead.
"You know, smoking's bad for you." John closed his eyes and took a drag of the cigarette as the unknown man spoke up; he had stepped into the room after the House had opened the door.
John shrugged, blowing out a stream of smoke at the same time. "It's not like I won't be going to Hell anyways." He moved to walk back down the hallway that had re-appeared. "A little smoke is the least of my problems. Now, what do you want?"
He was mildly surprised that the man didn't hesitate before following him. "I came to ask if you would visit a sick child who requested your presence."
"'Sick' wouldn't be a code-word for 'possession,' now, would it?"
"Uh… I don't think so?" John turned to survey his guest's expression, but the clear confusion written across his face made it obvious that he wasn't lying. "Here, you can take a look at her file if that would help." He held out a manila folder, which John snatched and began to read through the papers.
Taylor Pyne, age 5, Interstitial Lung Disease, quality of life has rapidly decreased, is not expected to live past the next two months.
John's eyes skimmed over most of the following description (lung function decreased… breathing disturbed… no cure…) and instead found himself focusing on the pictures of the small, pale girl hooked up to intravenous drips and a respirator as she slept; he wasn't a doctor, but even he could see that the heart monitor in the background wasn't showing that strong of a beat. The notes at the bottom of the final page, the "World of Wishes" application sheet, made his gaze slip sorrowfully back to the other man for him to confirm it.
"She's blood type O negative. There was always basically no chance of her receiving a lung transplant, but now she's caught pneumonia again…" John closed his eyes and smirked in despair. "She's got a month, at tops, Mr. Constantine."
John weighed his options. He may be damned, but he wasn't evil. Clearly, for whatever bloody reason, this girl was fighting to stay alive to see him. He owed it to her. Well, he didn't necessarily owe it to the girl specifically, but to everyone he had ever failed. Hell, he didn't need to start justifying his actions now of all times.
"Well, then what're we standing around here for?" He clapped his hands together in finality. John muttered a spell under his breath and then reached out to grab the man's shoulder when a thought suddenly occurred. "Oi, mate, what'd you say your name was again?"
He ignored the muttered I didn't say and merely nodded when the man replied, "Danny Johnson."
"Danny Johnson?" John grinned at his raised eyebrow. "Don't throw up on my shoes." He then snapped his fingers (he would never admit it willingly, but it was only for dramatic effect), and the two disappeared from the House of Mystery.
Besides the fact that the act of teleportation he'd just been forced into had made him nauseous, Danny was really tempted to puke on John Constantine for acting before asking. Who just teleports people without saying something like 'hey, we're gonna be traveling in a way your mortal mind can hardly understand, so don't be too surprised!' Crazy people, that's who. Apparently, Constantine fell into that category.
Danny supposed he should have expected something like that anyways. His search for the magician/sorcerer/wizard/exorcist had led him to Zatanna Zatara (he couldn't decide if she had had awesome parents or cruel ones to name her that), and wow did she have a lot to say on the man. After he got around all of the swears, he had boiled it down to Constantine being an "arrogant, selfish know-it-all who drags other people into his own mess without fail." She certainly wasn't a fan.
Seeing as he was gagging on the taste of bile that had risen up his esophagus due to their unconventional method of travel, Danny wasn't too much of a fan either.
"Thanks for the 'heads-up,'" he muttered, glaring daggers at the man in the trenchcoat. Constantine merely shrugged and rolled his neck; Danny could hear it pop from where he was standing, and he winced slightly at the sound. "Are we at least still on Earth?"
The blonde snorted in amusement. "Well, aren't you a dramatic one? We should be in a bathroom on the first floor of UCSF Children's."
Danny gaped at him in blank shock. "We're seriously in San Francisco?!" He had driven to Vermont to get Constantine from the House of Mystery; realistically, he was never going to get back there after this.
The other man rolled his eyes. "I'm not just going to abandon you here."
"I'll hold you to that," Danny muttered as the two of them left the white tiled bathroom and stepped into a busy hallway. He looked around for a brief moment until his gaze landed on the sign that read Elevators/Ascensores. A quick nudge to his companion, and the two made their way into the first one that opened (after Danny had pressed the button twenty times like a little kid and John had sighed like an exhausted parent).
Both silently thanked the universe that there was no elevator music on their ride up. Silence was acceptable for them.
"Alright, just remember: no swearing, no smoking, no spells that could disrupt any electronics, and no summoning any hellspawns," Danny informed Constantine as they exited onto the fourth floor and walked down the hall towards their wishee's room. He only hoped they wouldn't get in trouble for not 'calling ahead.'
Danny expected to hear a snarky response as they came to a stop in front of room 411, but when he didn't, he glanced over to make sure Constantine was still walking with him. His expression softened as he realized that the man's nerves had kept him silent. "You'll be fine, John," Danny nodded encouragingly towards the door. After receiving a positive response in the form of a weak smirk, he headed into the room, knocking on the doorframe as he did to signal their presence. "Miss Taylor Pyne?"
"That's me!" A small voice said, followed by a strong cough. The little red haired girl was lying back in her bed, a nurse by her side with a tray of food. The woman looked up questioningly, and appeared ready to say something, but lost the opportunity as Constantine stepped around Danny and made his way over to the free side of Taylor's bed. "Are you Mr. Costatine?" She asked clumsily with wide eyes as he approached.
"The one and only, little princess," he said with a wink, giving a dramatic bow. "A little birdie said you wanted to see me."
"Yeah, you've got a cool trench coat and you have a funny accent and you save people like the Doctor does on TV!"
Danny failed to hide a laugh at Constantine's bemused face. "Well, I'm not too sure about that–"
"It's okay because I am sure," the girl replied brightly.
Constantine shot Danny a desperate look for help, but the younger man couldn't do anything before he was roped into a mainly one-sided conversation about unicorns, magic wands, and whether Santa Claus was really based at the Arctic or Antarctica.
Danny turned his attention to the nurse as she gestured for him to take a seat in one of three chairs against the room's floor-to-ceiling window. "Thank you."
"Oh no, we should be thanking you, Mr. Johnson," the woman responded with a smile. "I recognized you from a story online." Oh joy, he'd have to look into that when he got home. "You just made Taylor's year by bringing that man here; it's been a while since I've seen her so perked up. I know her parents couldn't be here since they're at their day jobs, but on behalf of all of us, thank you so much."
"It's no problem at all, but I'm glad he could help cheer her up," Danny said neutrally. He appreciated the thanks, but he wasn't seeking any recognition in the first place, and so tried to politely dissuade the woman from continuing. In all honesty, her praise made him feel uncomfortable, and so he slightly angled himself to show his focus was back on Constantine and Taylor.
He assumed the nurse took the hint, as she sat down next to him and the two of them watched with quiet smiles on their faces as Constantine made an illusion of a Pegasus fly around Taylor's head. Her joyful squeals as it nuzzled her face made even the anti-social magician grin.
Something wicked this way comes. :) Happy New Year, everyone!
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