I don't want to start any blasphemous rumors...

[trenchcoatmagic]

Day: 32

Characters: John Constantine [trenchcoatmagic], Nami [navigatornami]
Summary: John comes back to his cell after meeting with Ants. Nami stops by in order to go to another meeting.
DAY/NIGHT & Time: Later Night
Status: Closed/Incomplete

Comments

[trenchcoatmagic]

Panic and disorientation formed a growing cyclone in John's skull. He closed his eyes as his own thoughts, cluttered and frantic as they were, were louder than Nami's voice as she entered the room. He couldn't respond to her calling her, couldn't even make his mouth do anything but swallow, again and again, as if he could somehow reverse the past few minutes of his life and undo them. The swallowing didn't help at all; instead, it just refocused his attention from the mess in front of him to the mess that was no doubt inside of him.

They hadn't shown pictures of cancer lungs when John was in school; that was after his time. But he'd seen them later on, and anyway, he could imagine it, shriveling and thick and black and dying. His esophagus and his lungs hurt as he tried to breathe. Pretending that it was a curse or a demon taunting him was an escape; he knew how to deal with those, knew how to beat those.

He was the one that did that sort of thing, after all. Flipped the bird to someone in every circle of hell, and used the fire and brimstone to light himself another cigarette. A lot of good all of that was doing for him now. All that bravado and twisted confidence was now a smothered mass of darkness hovering around under his ribs.

It was the disorientation that kept John from noticing Nami's hand on his shoulder immediately. There was a lapse between her touching him and him jerking away, suddenly alert. It wasn't anger that made him recoil. He wasn't even worried that it was staff, come to torment him like they did so many other patients here.

He couldn't find the word himself, but he was feeling just the slightest bit of shame.

The burning in his esophagus made his throat hurt, made his voice come out low, hushed, husky. He turned to look at Nami, regretting having pulled away, if only for whatever she could read into the action. The girl looked horrified enough already; John didn't need to add to that.

"Don't suppose you'd buy it if I said this wasn't quite what it looked like, eh love?"