WHO:Joan Watson & John Constantine WHEN: Early May WHERE: Joan's Home WHAT: John cleanses the house, Joan pokes a little. WARNINGS: Mild language STATUS: Complete
Since meeting John Constantine, Joan would attest that there hadn’t really been a dull moment in her life. There had been painful moments, and down times, but definitely not dull. If she were honest, it was like meeting Sherlock all over again. If she really worked on it, she could find those broken qualities in John and Sherlock too, but she tried not to compare her friends like that.
Recently, she had been meaning to contact John, not just because of the odd happenings in her home, but mostly it. With the Agency opening their library of information to her, Joan had set to work in the research department for the Occult Division, Zee hadn’t been kidding about needing a full time researcher at all, Joan’s plate was almost constantly full and she had to say it was exceptionally interesting.
Although it was times like these that she was less thrilled with that.
The lights were in the middle of a flickering stage, Romulus was on the back of her sofa crowing at the lights while Remus remained in the crate the pair of roosters had appeared in. Since Clyde was content in his dome, it was just the rooster than Joan was attempting to calm with some treats while waiting for John to come over and scold her forgetfulness.
There was no mistake in specifically handing Joan over into the very capable hands of Zee’s department for her government job. The one he didn’t particularly trust, yet would respect because it was her job, and trusted her so...in turn, he had thought Joan would be safe. Safer than watching her friends die in their homes because he’d become overwhelmed.
Yet trouble still found her. Or she was still looking for it. Not that Constantine was surprised.
“Knock knock,” he announced his entrance into her place because he had just teleported there, fuck all the walking nonsense for the sake of a facade, laying out the white candles in his hands over her table, sighing like a disappointed dad who had to ground their child.
“Alright love. Where do we start? And please, tell me you’re not bringing any of those books or research home?” She was smart. But too curious for her own good.
The appearance not only startled Joan just a little but Romulus too, the crowing and flapping starting up again and Joan just had to be grateful for decent soundproofing in the walls. “Um… I’m sorry, can we talk about the teleporting?” Because had he always been able to do that? It seemed like something that should’ve come up a time or two before.
Plying the rooster with treats wasn’t going to work, so Joan opted for the ignorance tactic to see if he’d just go to his box and sleep like his brother, “And no, I haven’t been bringing anything home. I mean, other than notes, and my laptop, but no artefacts or books or anything.” She was inquisitive, and dedicated, but she wasn’t stupid.
“Is anyone able to just teleport through walls around here? Is that should I should be getting an alarm for?”
Fuckin birds. At least Zatanna had her animals neatly sorted in one of the many spaces of the house. The House being literally the best thing that'd happened. Accommodating all of that and now the baby? Ha ha. Ample timing and a thankful ability of being in the right place at the right time.
“Depends on who they are,” Constantine shrugged out of his jacket and hung it over a chair, pulling a blade from his pocket that was coated in its own set of runes. “Walls obviously don't apply to spirits or energy. Or people who know the right spells or are endowed with such “gifts” as yours truly.” He didn't really feel like giving her his baseball card stats. They'd be there for awhile and John doubted Joan would believe half of it.
Spinning the blade artfully in his hand, he lit a white candle and took it with the other. “Right. Let's cleanse this place shall we? We’ll need to open your windows.”
She’d learned enough about the spirits and what not by now to know what to expect, she even had a few mirrors in drawers for special occasions. She might not be able to do anything to make them useful, but they were at hand if it ever came to it. Joan learned on the fly just as well as with the books. “Do I need to start updating my rolodex? Asking for teleportation credentials?” Joan raised an eyebrow as she crossed into the kitchen, unlocking and pushing her window up, two more in the sitting room, two upstairs, “Doors okay closed?”
The place would cool down, but Clyde had his little lamp and it was California, she could heat up well enough. It wasn’t like she lived in New York anymore.
“So, you mentioned Zee and her animals, at the house.” Joan knew that Zatanna had a green thumb, and enjoyed animals. The advice given when Remus and Romulus appeared was enough to indicate that. “She keeps her pets at your place?” Of course, Joan had already put two and two together, the fact that John had never mentioned that the contact he had inside the Agency was more than a friend wasn’t entirely surprising, but still.
Already moving to each window as she opened it to place the candles there, motions and movements all second nature--what with all he'd dreamt in more than one lifetime it was really hard to separate the two. Or be lacking in his abilities.
“No, open them.” He turned around to unlock and open her front door, placing a candle in the walkway and not really giving a shit who may have been walking by. Constantine then took the blade and began to carve the necessary symbols in her doorframe. Chalk wouldn't be a forever pick. “It's as much my home as it is hers. So that's where they stay.” He answered as he made quick work of the markings that wouldn't let anything cross over into her home again, making quick work of it. The windows would be next.
Nothing would be trying to crawl back in once he kicked it out.
She ignored the fact that he just started carving things into her doorframe, because this was a way to ward the house, it was safety. Her security deposit was not coming back to her, farewell to that. The glass doors to the back yard and her mini-tiny-just-started garden and eventual hen coop was opened up and the soft breeze was fairly pleasant.
“I think you’re missing the huge question in that non-question John.” She totally understood being relatively private. Sherlock didn’t open up easily, although he was a completely different sort of partner for her than John -John wasn’t sharing his profession with her, she fell into his orbit with her own. “Zatanna lives with you, you live together. As … friends? A couple? Super specialist occult genius?”
She had her arms crossed while she tried to stay out of the way, there were probably ways to get in the way with these things, but still. It probably managed to look defensive there too.
Blowing the excess wood dust off of his blade as he worked, John snorted a laugh, stepping back to admire the markings on the door, then moving to her back doors. They were glass so he'd settle for the frames and hide the markings later so she wouldn't have a shabby looking place. “We enjoy each other's company.”
Yes, he was being difficult in true Constantine form. But with the odd and random upbringing of his personal life.
“What’s it to you, love?” He made sure there was a white candle or stick of incense at each open window and door.
“I think, Zee and I enjoy each other's company. It might be a little more for you and her.” Joan just rolled her eyes. She expected that he'd dodge it really, he did that with just about everything as far as she could gather. So it wasn't a big deal. Other than it was kinda.
“You remember I work with her? She's teaching me a little divination. Mostly tasseomancy. But it might progress, I'm trying not to get ahead of myself and research tarot readings until I've got a strong grasp on the tea leaf stuff.” Tea leaf stuff was not the way to phrase that going forward, Joan was aware. But right then John was lighting a bunch of candles to cleanse her home of anything she might've accidentally led back there. So she figured a little colloquialism wasn't going to hurt.
“I guess it's just smart thinking, really. Training me, I mean. You know, for when she goes on maternity leave?”
Bloody hell, she was stuck on this as opposed to the haunted home? There better have been a haunted home and she wasn't trying to check on him. Max had already given him the boot in the ass he needed.
John didn't understand what Joan was getting at, sighing, arms slumping and turning to face her. “Are you two shagging as well?”
Stupid replies would get stupid questions.
“No, I've completely forgotten I personally recommended you so you'd be safe instead diving in with your reckless abandon.” Blah blah divination all that was lovely, yes. Constantine’s eyes lidded when she mentioned Zatanna and maternity leave, pointing a finger at Joan. “Zatanna is a homo magi, you are a reckless sod who goes looking for trouble because you're addicted to the wrong curiosity. You won't be filling in for her, reading bloody tea leaves and cards doesn't mean a thing in this line of work. Stick to research, Joan.”
“Yes, yes, Zee is a mystical magnificence, I’m aware. But she’s teaching me how to help without the need for some magical birthright or whatever it is you lot have.” Joan didn’t even know that much. She assumed it was a gift, something they had rather than learned, they just cultivated it properly and powerfully, knowledge was power and all that. But she didn’t actually know. And while it was a burning curiosity of hers, she wasn’t pressing to pry into lives when they weren’t being shared.
“Readings are part of a process in the Agency, and I’m picking it up, but that wasn’t even close to point here.” Tangents, there were just so many tangents going on everywhere. “And you know well enough that I am not shagging Zee, don’t be so crass.” Mother of his child? Maybe, she was definitely hedging on it if the tangents were anything to go by.
“Are my animals safe inside from your cleansing chaos? Or should I put them in a cupboard so nothing smashes on them?”
“Don’t take that help as a sign that you’re safe. You’re not, hence why I’m here. Unless you have any other odd questions you really wanted to ask.” Zatanna’s gift was in fact that, born with the ability of some of the most powerful magic anyone would ever see. John? His was a curse. He had magic in his blood and genes, but it was only in the concern of doing the dirty work no one else wanted. Goody.
“I know you’re not, you sod. I don’t get the point of your random bloody questions...and no, your birds will be the first thing the spirits go for.” Because clearly they hadn’t been the ones bothered. Their temperament was fine.
With that, he took a white candle and began speaking, walking the length of her living space. “I’m addressing the entities inside this home. Hear my words. In the name of the Creator, you are hereby commanded to leave this place.”
Thankfully there were no demonic presences or reactions. Just wandering spirits. “By the blood of Man, be not and be gone!” He paced through each room of her home, spreading the words and his energy to push them out through the crevices. “Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine!.” And just like that, the weight in the air was gone, the energy of her home, still, calm, unmoved.
Joan rolled her eyes again, settling in the corner of the room while John cleansed things. She wasn’t interfering with that aspect, she knew her house wasn’t plagued like Louise’s had been, it wasn’t some dark entity that was stalking her or anything. It just felt weird. Things were wrong. But at the same time, she’d seen what could happen when John was pushed to focus on too much, so she’d just settle back and not be a distraction until he’d finished.
She was starting to recognise when somewhere had some kind of presence and when it didn’t, and she felt her own home settle into peace, Romulus giving a little huff and ruffle of indignation before settling in his box again. She’d let him out when John left.
“The point of the question was conversation, John. Sometimes, people use that to get to know each other, you know? Share little things, facts here and there. Like they’re accomplishments, funny stories, the fact that their girlfriend is pregnant?” It was a small tease, Joan wasn’t in the least put out that John hadn’t mentioned it, Zee had already told her that they were waiting for the twelve week mark.
Joan was mentioning it because she’d been a little blindsided in the fact that John and Zee were even together.
Never mind he was in the middle of a bloody cleansing, the mage’s eyes rolled back into place and he let his own energy dissipate from the air, arms falling. No thanks, as per the usual, for all he was really enduring for the wanks of this Earth.
John had half a mind to light a cigarette in her house just because she was pissing him off, but he stuck to sticking one in his mouth while he closed her front door, and settled close to the window that was open, using the fire from his hands to light the cigarette (all smoke going out of her apartment so he wouldn't get a thrashing), blowing it out in relief. Of this bloody “conversation”.
“Sorry love, I thought you wanted me to cleanse your house,” his brows had set but he was enjoying the cigarette too much to be too angry. He couldn't smoke at home anymore. “Didn't know I had an obligation to give you a play by play of my life. But if you must know, Zee and I agreed not to say anything during the first bit of time. Seems as though she's having a hard time with that.”
Not that John was angry or about to tell his pregnant half what she could and could not do.
Joan didn’t mind exactly, the smoking. She could air things out okay enough and it wasn’t like he was wandering around smoking, so… No, it didn’t bother her greatly. She did close over the back doors and put the kitchen window on the shutter. “Well the cleansing was why you stopped by,” which was helpful, yes. Maybe she’d stop losing her keys now. Joan opened up her fridge, “Do you want a drink or are you going to vanish off in five seconds?” She even had some booze at hand if so needed.
“I didn’t mean the impending baby, John. Although congratulations.” Because it was a big deal and babies were fun, presumably at least. “Like I said, Zee is looking at training me up for some of the duties with the division.” Which Joan was keen to learn, really. “I’m just wondering if you were dating Zee when you introduced us, and if it was meant to be a secret or something?”
She knew John was a private person, but she wasn’t entirely sure just how much that extended to everything or just most things. And if it did extend to everything then Joan would figure out how to not pry -which would be difficult, yes, but she was pretty sure she could try.
“Water would be nice, love. Thanks.” Constantine rubbed his temple briefly, relaxing against her windowsill and letting his cigarette hang outside of the window.
It was weird to hear a “congratulations”, like he'd accomplished something. But really, Zatanna was the one doing most if not all the work. He was there for heavy lifting and making sure she didn't overdo it. “Thank you?”
So Joan was just being bloody curious about things because Constantine knew he wasn't forthcoming with, well, anything. He chuckled before taking another drag on his cigarette, watching her with a bemused look. “We were..seeing each other, if that's what you'd call it. She and I have quite the history but because of the circumstances of where we live, who I am and what I do, it usually got buggered up somehow and..” he sighed with a small shrug. “Nothing Secret. Just don't quite feel the need to run through a field of flowers proclaiming my life's moments like everyone else on the bloody network. Who cares? It's no ones business, and it isn't as though you asked before.”
Getting a second glass, pouring out for John and taking it over, glad to see that he wasn't just storming off all closed up and gloomy, Joan just nodded along. “Dream history or history history?” It was rather hard to tell around here just who matched up dream wise with each other. She assumed that due to their overlapping skills in the mystical stuff, they at least had a same or similar dream world.
“You can tell me to stop poking you know, with the personal stuff at least.” Because it was clear she wasn't stopping with the occult stuff at all. That was just something to come to grips with. “If you don't want me prying I won't pry, I'm just curious is all.”
It maybe wasn't her finest feature. But she was a little like a dog with a bone.
“All history. I’ve dreamt of three other lives since I’ve been here in this sweet and short time and Zatanna is always there. And I’m..We always have a thing that can’t really be a thing because in our world, what I am? Isn’t meant for a happy life or whatever the fairytales like to call it. I’m a servant to the Earth, God thinks it’s for him, but I’m keeping the God of our time and the demons where they belong. Just like any other Constantine before me. Called the Constant One.” And then he knocked back the glass of water to just wash all of that history lesson back. If anything it would serve as any information or blank spaces as to exactly who, what, and why John was the way he was. Given as he and Joan were obviously going to be friends as he was already emotionally invested in making sure she didn’t die because of him, it was fair.
And she was asking. Constantine may have not been forthcoming with information or volunteering of it, but if the time was right, if it were necessary, he’d tell you. If he trusted you. Or maybe if he was just tired.
From the prying, the concerned eyes, the inability to be as he was in those dreams in this life for more than one reason, he’d have to speak, to a certain degree. “You’ve already poked and haven’t stopped, may as well shut you up about it.” He huffed after another drag of his cigarette. “Why the sudden interest, anyways? All that time with Zee?”
It sounded lonely. Sounded like more than keeping space between him and other people for their sake, more like for his sake. She couldn’t imagine the weight of it, but a few things made a little more sense to her. Sherlock closed himself off because of what he deduced from people, John did it because of what he could bring down on people. “That sounds… Very important, and very lonely. I’m sorry.”
She could fill in the blanks, about the whole not getting to be happy thing, the likelihood that situations like with Louise happened just often enough for John to get blamed for things not working out. Or worse. “Maybe this time it’ll be a little different. Maybe you get to give them the finger this time.” She doubted Zee would take anything lying down, least of all John Constantine.
“I will say, shutting me up is very hard. I’m a talker, and a listener. It’s what I do.” Among other things. “It’s partly that, I mean, Zatanna is amazing, she’s a great teacher and the agency is working really well for me. But… I am learning more about… Your world, I suppose, with the spirits and demons, the theory of it all at least. I get curious, you’re a bit of a puzzle. I’m sorry, it’s a throwback from the detective training.”
John merely shrugged and went back to his cigarette, eyeing the outside of her window. So very important when it came to incriminating him. Having the thankless job of keeping shit together while everyone hated you for it? Yes, it was lonely, and it wasn't fair--but it was what had to happen if he didn't want anyone he cared about to get hurt.
And then there was here. It was a trauma of its own with regular life hardships, but John wasn't lonely, and he had more of a life than the ones he'd dreamt of combined. In every matter of the word.
“It is what it is, love.” Constantine was tired over pondering whether or not he could compare this to any number of dreams. They all felt like a part of him, different package, and seeped over somehow. He couldn't very well carry on with his abilities without acknowledging that, could he? “You don't want to know about my world, Joan. Zatanna's is the better option. You stay as far from spirits and demons as you can. You wanna learn tarot and divination? Have at it. Stepping into the realm of demonology? May as well go play with a chainsaw instead.”
Joan’s life was never static, she’d never even felt like it was while she’d been a surgeon, there was always the room for change in some manner. She never planned for it, not really, it just happened.
But that aspect of her curiosity didn’t mean wading into everything she shouldn’t. Her small exposure to John’s life was enough to keep her safely in that outer lines of it, “We will have to see where the work takes me,” she wasn’t exactly going to stop just because it involved some darker creatures or ghosts, but she’d learned the very hard lesson of jumping the gun too. “But, believe me, I’m not intending on getting that involved in your world. It still scares the shit out of me.”
She still had the odd nightmare about her reflection sometimes.
“Smart choice, love.” Constantine extinguished the cigarette, crushing it into his hand and letting the flame dissipate it altogether until there was nothing but ash in his hand so small the wind took it away.
Closing her window he sighed, letting his hands fall to his pockets.
“If you feel the work is taking you someplace dark, just, promise you'll reach out to me? And not a few weeks after your lights have been flickering, yeah?” John’s face relaxed into a small smile, moving to pat Joan on the shoulder lightly. “Can't have you dying on me when you're one of few I can count on one hand that I genuinely trust. Sooner or later I'm sure Zee and I will have to agree on a babysitter.”
He might’ve aimed for teasing and condescending, but Joan knew enough now to know that John didn’t trust exceptionally easily. Might meant a hell of a lot, but she managed to just contain it to a small smile in return. “Oh, I will, in a timely fashion.” John was already on her speed dial, since she’d finally gotten around to swapping out her New York contacts. “No pussy footing around for now.”
Because even if the threat of babysitting was meant to be that, a threat, Joan knew for a fact, she’d be there in an instant if required, “I’m already drawing up little knitting patterns for beanie hats and little shoes. A winter baby in Orange County means there will be need for winter clothes.” It did seem to snow every year. And even if the baby had an exorcist daddy and an magical mother, cute little animal beanie hats would be made.