Second Chances Part 15
Disclaimers in Part 1.
Despite the morning sunshine glowing behind the shutters, Constantine was still in bed when his cellphone rang.
Mumbling a random series of “fucks” and “shits”, he stumbled to retrieve it.
“Constantine.”
“John, it’s Leslie.”
Constantine scrubbed at his face with his free hand, trying to clear his head. Leslie, Leslie - oh yeah, Archer. Hospital. “Hello.”
“John, do you remember that man you brought into the ER? You asked me to do his physical?”
“I didn’t bring - why?” asked Constantine.
“He’s here, in the ICU. Ambulance brought him in last night. Thought you’d want to know.”
***
White walls, white sheets, Leslie’s white coat.
“They had him as a John Doe until a nurse thought she recognized him from before, and remembered I’d treated him. I couldn’t recall his name, but we were able to track it down from my work schedule.”
Sebastian didn’t actually look all that bad, Constantine rationalized. If you ignored the tubes and the wires and the machines, he looked like he was asleep. Ok, he had a few bruises. A big gash stitched up on the side of his face. But overall, it didn’t look too terrible.
Dr. Archer said, “They had him in surgery for several hours. Internal bleeding.”
“He’ll be pissed off about that scar,” said John.
Leslie said, “They don’t worry much about scars when they’re rushing you into the ER and you’re bleeding to death. They just open you up.”
“No, I mean the one on his face.”
Leslie gave him a strange look.
Constantine elaborated, “Bal - Sebastian’s always had a thing about looking good.”
Leslie said, “It’s not certain he’ll live, John. His life signs and lab results are odd. It’s more than the injuries - it’s shock, or a reaction to some other problem that we haven’t identified yet. His heart stopped twice, but restarted on its own before they defibbed him. Bottom line, they’re not really sure what’s happening. He could go at any time.”
John swallowed. “Maybe that’s for the best.” He turned on his heel and left.
***
Outside the ICU, Dr. Archer and the attending senior nurse were talking in low tones.
John automatically patted his pockets one by one, looking for his cigarettes.
Then he remembered. He’d quit.
Shit.
“Excuse me,” he said in the general direction of the nurses’ station. “Do any of you have a smoke?”
Leslie said, “I thought you quit.”
“Yeah, well, I need a cigarette right now.”
“You can’t smoke in here, John,” Leslie said, using her most serious Dr. Archer voice.
Constantine’s voice rose. “I won’t smoke the fucking thing in here, just, if you have any, I’d like to have one.”
One of the nurses reached down below the counter, stood up with a package of cigarettes and offered it to him.
John took a single cigarette. He hadn’t touched one since - since. He rolled it between his fingers, smelled the tobacco.
An alarm screeched.
Startled, John almost dropped the cigarette. The nurses exploded into movement, Dr. Archer with them, heading quickly towards the ICU.
Constantine called after them, “What happened?”
Leslie shouted over her shoulder, “Arrested -“ as the door shut behind her.
Constantine stood alone in the corridor. He walked around the nurses’ station, bent and found the shelf where the nurse stored her cigarettes, found the lighter. He snapped the lighter into flame, lit his cigarette.
That first rush of smoke into his lungs was like crossing over to the Hellplane. And for that brief instant, as the nicotine hit, he forgot where he was, what had happened, what was about to happen.
He exhaled.
Now he was ready to deal.
Constantine strolled to the door of the ICU, prepared.
Swinging open the door, he almost ran into one of the attendants. They were standing in a cluster just inside the room.
Dr. Archer was further forward into the room, and she was saying “ - think you should lie back down. You’re very sick -“
“Yeah I’m sick, sick of this place,” came the response. “Time to leave.”
John stared.
Sebastian was standing naked next to his vacated bed, setting aside the last of the IVs he had removed. His abdomen had a large fresh incision, and he was clumsy on his feet, but he raked the hair out of his eyes with practiced flair.
“Any chance of clothes around here?” Sebastian asked, glancing about.
Dr. Archer said, “You really can’t just -“
Constantine shrugged out of his black overcoat, stepped forward, silently offered it to the halfbreed.
Sebastian accepted it without comment, slowly put it on.
Sebastian took the cigarette out of John’s hand. “Asshole,” the halfbreed said. “You know smoking isn’t permitted in here.”
Sebastian took a long drag, then deftly pinched out the ember and dropped the butt on the floor.
Dr. Archer tried again, “I could be up on malpractice charges if I let a severely ill patient just walk out of intensive care -“
Constantine interrupted, “Leslie, he wants to leave. You can either figure out a way to check him out of here officially, or he’ll just walk out of here regardless and you’ll still have to explain it upstairs.”
Dr. Archer shook her head and said, “At least let me check his vitals before you go.”
***
Despite Sebastian’s bravado, he was leaning heavily into John by the time they reached the hospital doors.
By the time they got to the parking lot, John had an arm around the demon and was half-carrying him to the car.
Before he closed the passenger side door, John asked, “You sure this is the right idea?”
“Fuck yeah.” The halfbreed leaned back gingerly in the car seat. “Only now do I fully appreciate your hatred of hospitals, Johnny. If you think electroshock therapy sucked, I can one-up you on that. I’m gonna have nightmares about quacks with scalpels.”
Despite the morning sunshine glowing behind the shutters, Constantine was still in bed when his cellphone rang.
Mumbling a random series of “fucks” and “shits”, he stumbled to retrieve it.
“Constantine.”
“John, it’s Leslie.”
Constantine scrubbed at his face with his free hand, trying to clear his head. Leslie, Leslie - oh yeah, Archer. Hospital. “Hello.”
“John, do you remember that man you brought into the ER? You asked me to do his physical?”
“I didn’t bring - why?” asked Constantine.
“He’s here, in the ICU. Ambulance brought him in last night. Thought you’d want to know.”
***
White walls, white sheets, Leslie’s white coat.
“They had him as a John Doe until a nurse thought she recognized him from before, and remembered I’d treated him. I couldn’t recall his name, but we were able to track it down from my work schedule.”
Sebastian didn’t actually look all that bad, Constantine rationalized. If you ignored the tubes and the wires and the machines, he looked like he was asleep. Ok, he had a few bruises. A big gash stitched up on the side of his face. But overall, it didn’t look too terrible.
Dr. Archer said, “They had him in surgery for several hours. Internal bleeding.”
“He’ll be pissed off about that scar,” said John.
Leslie said, “They don’t worry much about scars when they’re rushing you into the ER and you’re bleeding to death. They just open you up.”
“No, I mean the one on his face.”
Leslie gave him a strange look.
Constantine elaborated, “Bal - Sebastian’s always had a thing about looking good.”
Leslie said, “It’s not certain he’ll live, John. His life signs and lab results are odd. It’s more than the injuries - it’s shock, or a reaction to some other problem that we haven’t identified yet. His heart stopped twice, but restarted on its own before they defibbed him. Bottom line, they’re not really sure what’s happening. He could go at any time.”
John swallowed. “Maybe that’s for the best.” He turned on his heel and left.
***
Outside the ICU, Dr. Archer and the attending senior nurse were talking in low tones.
John automatically patted his pockets one by one, looking for his cigarettes.
Then he remembered. He’d quit.
Shit.
“Excuse me,” he said in the general direction of the nurses’ station. “Do any of you have a smoke?”
Leslie said, “I thought you quit.”
“Yeah, well, I need a cigarette right now.”
“You can’t smoke in here, John,” Leslie said, using her most serious Dr. Archer voice.
Constantine’s voice rose. “I won’t smoke the fucking thing in here, just, if you have any, I’d like to have one.”
One of the nurses reached down below the counter, stood up with a package of cigarettes and offered it to him.
John took a single cigarette. He hadn’t touched one since - since. He rolled it between his fingers, smelled the tobacco.
An alarm screeched.
Startled, John almost dropped the cigarette. The nurses exploded into movement, Dr. Archer with them, heading quickly towards the ICU.
Constantine called after them, “What happened?”
Leslie shouted over her shoulder, “Arrested -“ as the door shut behind her.
Constantine stood alone in the corridor. He walked around the nurses’ station, bent and found the shelf where the nurse stored her cigarettes, found the lighter. He snapped the lighter into flame, lit his cigarette.
That first rush of smoke into his lungs was like crossing over to the Hellplane. And for that brief instant, as the nicotine hit, he forgot where he was, what had happened, what was about to happen.
He exhaled.
Now he was ready to deal.
Constantine strolled to the door of the ICU, prepared.
Swinging open the door, he almost ran into one of the attendants. They were standing in a cluster just inside the room.
Dr. Archer was further forward into the room, and she was saying “ - think you should lie back down. You’re very sick -“
“Yeah I’m sick, sick of this place,” came the response. “Time to leave.”
John stared.
Sebastian was standing naked next to his vacated bed, setting aside the last of the IVs he had removed. His abdomen had a large fresh incision, and he was clumsy on his feet, but he raked the hair out of his eyes with practiced flair.
“Any chance of clothes around here?” Sebastian asked, glancing about.
Dr. Archer said, “You really can’t just -“
Constantine shrugged out of his black overcoat, stepped forward, silently offered it to the halfbreed.
Sebastian accepted it without comment, slowly put it on.
Sebastian took the cigarette out of John’s hand. “Asshole,” the halfbreed said. “You know smoking isn’t permitted in here.”
Sebastian took a long drag, then deftly pinched out the ember and dropped the butt on the floor.
Dr. Archer tried again, “I could be up on malpractice charges if I let a severely ill patient just walk out of intensive care -“
Constantine interrupted, “Leslie, he wants to leave. You can either figure out a way to check him out of here officially, or he’ll just walk out of here regardless and you’ll still have to explain it upstairs.”
Dr. Archer shook her head and said, “At least let me check his vitals before you go.”
***
Despite Sebastian’s bravado, he was leaning heavily into John by the time they reached the hospital doors.
By the time they got to the parking lot, John had an arm around the demon and was half-carrying him to the car.
Before he closed the passenger side door, John asked, “You sure this is the right idea?”
“Fuck yeah.” The halfbreed leaned back gingerly in the car seat. “Only now do I fully appreciate your hatred of hospitals, Johnny. If you think electroshock therapy sucked, I can one-up you on that. I’m gonna have nightmares about quacks with scalpels.”