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valmoraI wrote this before I started reading all the fics on ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hellblazerslash and decided that it wasn't worth it 'cause I
sucked in this fandom, but I'm still glad I wrote it. So far, this is
the only fic whose focus is trying to talk about Chas's internal
conflict of religion (that is, Christianity's traditional disapproval
of homosexuality) vs. his affection for Constantine.
Title: Not Telling
Author: Val Mora
Rating: PG-13 for repeated use of the word fuck.
Pairing: (unrequited) John/Chas
Summary: Chas won't say it.
Disclaimer: So not mine. If they were mine, Keanu Reeves would have been snogging Shia LaBeouf. As he didn't (at least not on screen), we can safely assume I claim no ownership of Hellblazer or Constantine, because John Constantine and Chas Chandler/Kramer are all to DC/Vertigo and whomever else owns any rights to them.
Not Telling
Chas is never gonna say it. He has seen John save a hundred, a fucking thousand, souls just by saying stuff, but this is different, and besides, every time John pulls those stunts, he loses a little more of himself to the cigarettes, to the cancer, to uncaring.
He misses the days when John came back to the car more likely to smile because he was just that much closer to Heaven, when John would explain things to him about magic. That was before John started coughing up blood every morning, before the diagnosis as a fucking poster child for why early detection is a good thing. Now, there’s nothing. Just, “Chas, I need to get here,” with a finger jabbed at a map and “No, Chas. It’s too dangerous,” that hair spilling into his eyes as he shakes his head.
He doesn’t think it’s fair that John should still sound almost the same as he used to, because he’s not the same. John’s just a dead man walking, a damned man walking and exorcising and trying everything he can to get into Heaven when the moment comes.
And that’s why Chas isn’t going to say anything. He’s a good Catholic boy – or at least, a good boy, if not Catholic, because he doesn’t think it’s right that John should go to Hell for something stupid he did when he was young, even if it’s fair, and Chas figures questioning Catholic dogma makes you not Catholic – and he sure doesn’t want to wish Hell on anyone, let alone John. And, well, telling would be Insta-damnation, like Instant Ramen only a lot less fun.
He had Instant Ramen with John the other day. It was a nasty exorcism, and afterwards, John was just gonna finish the cigarette and crash on the couch, but Chas made Instant Ramen for the two of them because he knows John doesn’t eat enough anyway. Never feels hungry, special thanks to his grade-A terminal lung cancer.
They sat there, half-illuminated by the light of the dim bulb, and Chas watched John eat, the noodles wrapped around the plastic fork, and then drinking the salt broth straight from the bowl to finish it.
John doesn’t buy spoons. He said, once, the day he eats Instant Ramen with a spoon is the day he gives up, checks himself in to the hospital, and lets the cancer take him.
When he picks up takeout, Chas makes sure to open all the plastic-silverware packages and throw out every single spoon.
He saw a spoon by the side of the road the other day, right by a gutter, and he mused on whether or not littering ought to be a sin. Which made him, of course, think of John. It’s really all he thinks about these days, John and demons and angels and death. Oh, and sleep, because it’s one of those things nobody ever gets enough of, especially John.
John, the one person in any fucking realm he’s ever been in lo-
And that’s why he’s never going to say it. Because good Catholic boys don’t have nightmares about their mentors dying, don’t find that their mentors’ lung cancer is a waking nightmare, don’t wake up from dreams of having sex with their mentors.
Which is why he won’t say it. Saying it will make it real, and he doesn’t want it to be real. If it’s real, it’s wrong, and Chas knows where wrongness gets you.
Eventually, John will right that wrong he did all those years ago, and when he goes, he’ll go up.
Chas won’t say it, but he hopes like nothing else that Heaven takes boys who aren’t good Catholics.
hellblazerslash and decided that it wasn't worth it 'cause I
sucked in this fandom, but I'm still glad I wrote it. So far, this is
the only fic whose focus is trying to talk about Chas's internal
conflict of religion (that is, Christianity's traditional disapproval
of homosexuality) vs. his affection for Constantine.
Title: Not Telling
Author: Val Mora
Rating: PG-13 for repeated use of the word fuck.
Pairing: (unrequited) John/Chas
Summary: Chas won't say it.
Disclaimer: So not mine. If they were mine, Keanu Reeves would have been snogging Shia LaBeouf. As he didn't (at least not on screen), we can safely assume I claim no ownership of Hellblazer or Constantine, because John Constantine and Chas Chandler/Kramer are all to DC/Vertigo and whomever else owns any rights to them.
Not Telling
Chas is never gonna say it. He has seen John save a hundred, a fucking thousand, souls just by saying stuff, but this is different, and besides, every time John pulls those stunts, he loses a little more of himself to the cigarettes, to the cancer, to uncaring.
He misses the days when John came back to the car more likely to smile because he was just that much closer to Heaven, when John would explain things to him about magic. That was before John started coughing up blood every morning, before the diagnosis as a fucking poster child for why early detection is a good thing. Now, there’s nothing. Just, “Chas, I need to get here,” with a finger jabbed at a map and “No, Chas. It’s too dangerous,” that hair spilling into his eyes as he shakes his head.
He doesn’t think it’s fair that John should still sound almost the same as he used to, because he’s not the same. John’s just a dead man walking, a damned man walking and exorcising and trying everything he can to get into Heaven when the moment comes.
And that’s why Chas isn’t going to say anything. He’s a good Catholic boy – or at least, a good boy, if not Catholic, because he doesn’t think it’s right that John should go to Hell for something stupid he did when he was young, even if it’s fair, and Chas figures questioning Catholic dogma makes you not Catholic – and he sure doesn’t want to wish Hell on anyone, let alone John. And, well, telling would be Insta-damnation, like Instant Ramen only a lot less fun.
He had Instant Ramen with John the other day. It was a nasty exorcism, and afterwards, John was just gonna finish the cigarette and crash on the couch, but Chas made Instant Ramen for the two of them because he knows John doesn’t eat enough anyway. Never feels hungry, special thanks to his grade-A terminal lung cancer.
They sat there, half-illuminated by the light of the dim bulb, and Chas watched John eat, the noodles wrapped around the plastic fork, and then drinking the salt broth straight from the bowl to finish it.
John doesn’t buy spoons. He said, once, the day he eats Instant Ramen with a spoon is the day he gives up, checks himself in to the hospital, and lets the cancer take him.
When he picks up takeout, Chas makes sure to open all the plastic-silverware packages and throw out every single spoon.
He saw a spoon by the side of the road the other day, right by a gutter, and he mused on whether or not littering ought to be a sin. Which made him, of course, think of John. It’s really all he thinks about these days, John and demons and angels and death. Oh, and sleep, because it’s one of those things nobody ever gets enough of, especially John.
John, the one person in any fucking realm he’s ever been in lo-
And that’s why he’s never going to say it. Because good Catholic boys don’t have nightmares about their mentors dying, don’t find that their mentors’ lung cancer is a waking nightmare, don’t wake up from dreams of having sex with their mentors.
Which is why he won’t say it. Saying it will make it real, and he doesn’t want it to be real. If it’s real, it’s wrong, and Chas knows where wrongness gets you.
Eventually, John will right that wrong he did all those years ago, and when he goes, he’ll go up.
Chas won’t say it, but he hopes like nothing else that Heaven takes boys who aren’t good Catholics.
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Date: 2005-04-01 03:37 am (UTC)I'm not offended; I was worried you were!
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Date: 2005-04-01 07:32 am (UTC)