REVELATION
It's been a while since I first posted this story and since I'm going on holiday on Friday I thought I'd better put the next part up. How do you reckon it's going? I would love the opinion of any Constantine fans, the comic or the film. I know that prologue was very short and vague but it shall all be explained in due time. As you probably guessed Oren, the old man on the bus, was a demon. Well, tell me what you think of this first chapter. Okay, thanks, Happy Reading! Gem xxx Chapter 1: Divine Intervention. -:oO0Oo:- Present Day. The weather was abnormally hot, Angela thought to herself as she hefted her bag a little higher onto her sticky, burning shoulder. The sun beat down upon her with all the fiery intensity of Hell itself as she moved through the muggy, cloying air down the busy road. It should have been getting cooler, what with the blazing day coming to a close. Sunset was not far away and yet the baking rays of heat only seemed to fortify themselves against the coming night as if they fought to retain their prominent reign over the world below. She took a deep, laboured breath of the heated air, attempting to fill her lungs as best she could and turned her attention to the great building that had been occupying her sight for several minutes as she had walked down the bustling street, dodging people who were desperately trying to make their way home with bags of groceries or briefcases or screaming children, panting and gasping in the scorching sun. She mounted the steps to St. Anthony's Theological Society, sighing in relief as she slipped into the cooling embrace of the thick shadows by the building's feet, pausing a minute to bask in the heat's relent and regain the air in her lungs. The building was tall and wide, architecturally magnificent in every way and she pushed the heavy door in upon itself, allowing herself into the vast, vaulted rooms of the clerical establishment. The air was slightly musty as it was within all old buildings no matter their size, but it was an even greater relief than the shadows outside had to offer and Angela pressed forwards, smiling a little as she spotted the figure of the balding man dressed in the black of a pastor's clothing. "Father." she called out to him, though she did so with a muted, reverent tone, her smile brightening still further as he spun and greeted her with a smile of his own. "Angela, good to see you again. Terribly extreme weather we are having, aren't we?" his large, rough hands encompassed her smaller one and held it tightly in a warm handshake. "Terribly." she agreed fanning her flushed face with her free hand. "I don't think I have ever been this hot in my entire life." Save for when I visited Hell. she added silently to herself. Though I doubt that I was classed as alive while I was there! Slipping her hand gently from the pastor's she shifted her bag again into a more comfortable position on her already sunburnt shoulder. "Father, I can't stop for long. I just came because I wanted to thank you." she began after a small pause, clearing her throat and brushing a stray lock of sleek, dark hair from her face. "For reconsidering Isabel's burial. I mean, I know that it still technically seems like a suicide, but-" Father David held up his hands in a motion for her to say no more and Angela fell silent, watching him with wide, dark blue eyes. He smiled gently. "No need, my dear." he said in his soft, low voice. "Let us say that the Bishop received a visit from a messenger sent by the…ah…management." he chuckled briefly and Angela smiled, glancing down to the deep crimson carpet coating the floors that turned all footsteps into an almost silence as they fell. "We know now that you were right about her, but you do understand why the Bishop made his decision to begin with, yes?" Angela gave a grudging nod of her head and shifted uncomfortably on the spot at the suddenly changed atmosphere. "Yes, well…" her gaze flickered up to meet with his and the sadness at losing her sister was still apparent behind her night blue irises. "At least she can now be laid to rest properly." "Indeed." the pastor nodded and his mild smile returned in an attempt to relieve the tension that had appeared at the turn of their conversation. "I still need you to decided which readings you would like at the service. No, no. You don't have to answer now. Think about it some more and I will be in touch in a few days time." Angela allowed a relieved smile to flicker across her lips and nodded her head again. "Thank you again, David. Thank you so much." she paused again briefly, intent upon studying the toes of her scuffed trainers before she took a deep inhalation of air and fixed him with her glance once more. "There is something else that you could do for me, Father, please. I wouldn't normally be so presumptuous as to ask for assistance from someone so busy, but-" Father David again stopped her with raised palms. "Go ahead, Angela. I will do everything within my power to help you, you know that." She jerked her head again, twisting her fingers together as she spoke. "I want to have something, an artefact actually, buried with my sister. I know that she will keep a better watch over it than I ever could. It's imperative." she clasped his hands in both of hers, squeezing them tightly, waiting patiently for his reply. "Of course, my dear girl." David answered warmly. "It's quite popular for families to want to bury the favoured possessions of a person with them. That's fine, dear. I take it the thing was special to her?" Angela hated to lie, especially to a man of the cloth, but she swallowed her guilt and doubt and replaced them with a bright, cheerful expression. "It was special." she settled for saying, convincing herself that it wasn't a total lie. The thing just hadn't been special to Isabel. Her sister wouldn't have minded, however, of that Angela was certain. "Well, I'd better get going." she sighed after a long silence between the two. "No rest for the wicked, don't they say?" she finally released the aging man's hands and took a step backwards. "I must be severely wicked then." Father David joked with a chuckle and Angela joined him before bidding him a final thank you and farewell and moving for the exit. "A few days, Angela." he reminded, calling after her and she flashed a glance over her shoulder briefly. "And if you need anything…any guidance, anything, you know you can call me at any time. Day or night." "I'll remember that, Father." she responded, pulling open the large front door which groaned on it's hinges in protest of being disturbed. She waved one last time to the pastor who stood in the centre of the many bookshelves, framed by the beautifully carved and currently disused fireplace, before moving back out to brave the heat. "Watch it!" She thudded headlong into a white shirt, blinking blearily as the sun shone upon it, making her squint at it's brightness. "Watch it yourself!" she responded, blinking again before shading her eyes with her hand and glancing up into the familiar face peering down at her. "Well, well. Not changed one bit, I see, Mr. Constantine." she couldn't help the grin that broke out onto her shaded features at his hot, flustered looking appearance. His long, black trench coat was slung into the crook of one elbow, hands thrust deep into his pockets and sleeved rolled up his forearms revealing the large black alchemical tattoos that emblazoned their underside. "Nor have you." he replied with a smirk of his own tugging to loosen his black tie around his throat. His hair looked distinctly tousled, sticking to his forehead and plastered to the back of his neck with sweat. "It's been a while." "Indeed it has." she countered lightly, leaning her weight onto one leg and cocking her head to one side to consider him. "Busy?" "Very." he responded with a curl of his lips. "You?" he raised his eyebrows slightly in question and Angela's smile expanded again. "Also very." she said slowly. "You know the life of a detective." "Drama, drama, drama." John smirked again, a slightly tingle of sarcasm tinting his words. He rubbed slowly at his jaw before allowing his eyes to wander up to the building behind them. He was silent for a long time, so long that to anyone else it would have seemed as if he had lost interest in the conversation and moved his attention on to something else. Angela, however, knew differently and her patience was rewarded when finally he spoke again, his dark gaze still studying the masonry of the clerical edifice. "How have you been, Angela?" his deep voice was softer and more sincere than it had been before. She took a deep breath through her nose, clasping her arms about herself as if to ward off the sudden chill that had taken over her. The night was growing cooler by every second as the sun dipped below the horizon and while it was an immense relief to feel the chill, it still made Angela shiver involuntarily. "Coping." she replied quietly. "What can you do but cope?" John nodded, as if satisfied with her answer, swinging his gaze back to meet hers briefly. "Had business with the pastor?" he queried, motioning to the heavy door that had closed behind her as she had left. "Yeah…They agreed to give my sister a Catholic burial after all. Something about divine intervention." she answered again, suppressing a second shudder as the breeze picked up, cooling the sweat on her body. She had only worn a vest top today, due to the blazing heat and was currently regretting it as goosebumps broke out over her skin. John snorted at her choice of words before rubbing at the back of his stick neck. "Yeah, me too. About Chaz and Beeman's funerals. Neither of them had any family to speak of. Thought I needed to do something for them at least." "That's nice of you, John. Let me know when the dates are. I'd like to pay my respects. They deserve that at least when they died to help save me." she smiled gently at him attempting to hide the fresh wave of guilt that surged up inside of her by twisting her left wrist to glance at her watch. "Look, I've gotta be somewhere, John. It was nice to see you though." she sidestepped past him and down the few steps, intending to hurry home to escape the curious climate changes and the peculiar feelings that John's presence evoked in her. "You too Angela." he murmured behind her and she heard the great oak doors creak open. "See you 'round." She paused in her steps and turned to see his back disappearing into the building from which she had come moments earlier. -:oO0Oo:- Do you think it's a little soon for John and Angela to be meeting up again? I'm thinking about drawing it out a bit after this before they meet again. Please read and review?
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