Log: Complete [Part 2]

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

When; May 31 (evening into midnight)
Rating; MA (language, unconventional lovin')
Characters; John Constantine silkcutremix, the Corinthian bitingnightmare
Summary; With a visit from the shadows and a touch of desperation, the magician and nightmare gain a way to keep the full moon off their backs.
Log;

Magic words, if only magic words could fix their situation every time.  Fortunately a little smoke and mirrors, his knife, and some bodily harm had gotten them out of that situation.  It didn't take much else to make their way back to the flat.  His ear would be all right, his back easily fixed with some proper massage therapy.  What of John's wounds however?  Would his elbow and knee joints require a professional look?

By now the Corinthian had already stripped down to his skivvies to inspect the Englishman's body under the kitchen light.  He had what was left of the first aid kit for his ear, but he didn't think John would need a bandaid.  "That leaves the suit," he noted to the blonde, the only thing remaining that had debatable repairs.  Poor blazer, it had been through hell.

----
John did not need any medical attention as far as he knew, sitting there awkwardly on a chair (it groaned in protest) as the nightmare gave him a once over. He rubbed his shaggy once-injured arm for emphasis; it had healed.

Those ears flattened against his skull when he gave the discarded blazer and coat draped over the back of the couch a look. Bloody hell, ruined in not even a week. Snort.

He turned back to Cori, not wishing to push his irritation further.

----
That looked fine enough, and it seemed to function properly.  Just to make sure he gave that arm a few stretches then repeated the same gesture to his leg.  Both limbs appeared good as new.  Cori followed that blue gaze to the suit draped on the back of the couch.

"I know what you're thinking, but I'll make sure we get that fixed," reassured the nightmare, "you looked pretty fucking sharp in it."  Cori delivered his praise while helping himself to a seat in John's lap.  The chair would hold for now.  "Can you talk yet?"

----  
John did, that's why he was tolerating the humidity of Houma when he was prancing around its goddamn swamps "coaching" along a certain elemental from the compost heap in the first place. Suffering for fashion, never mind the bloody gloves (it was the 80s).

"I think so," Constantine rumbled, the magus' human tone identifiable in the rolling growl. "Still couldn't taste the shit I threw in it."

----
"That's good," said the nightmare as he rested his forehead along the magician's thick shoulder.  His hands felt along John's torso, from his belly to his chest, then up to his neck.  He pressed firmly to feel his vital signs under the fur.  "No nausea," Cori asked.

He wanted to be sure they would not have a repeat performance with that serum.  This time it was right.  The chair creaked again under their weight, it must have been somewhere near 400lbs with Cori on him.

----
Bloody creaking was not kind to Constantine's sharpened ears, to which he held back a wince. He wrapped an arm around the nightmare, for a moment feeling like a Santa Claus at some mall, should he have been a fucking polar bear instead.

"I feel fine. Just like the last time." The words were far from clean and articulate, but very understandable.

----
"I'm making sure," Cori nodded as his fingers pressed over where his heart would be, checking its speed.  Too fast or too slow and he was going to back out of his magic words from earlier.  As John had said however, he seemed fine.

So how many Santas got to unwrap the present on their knee that wasn't for adult audiences only?  "You're a little tense, maybe," either that was his professional opinion or the paler one was attempting to rationalize.

----
John might have hesitated a little; he was scared, from both bad drug incidents, and this whole situation seemed too good to be true. He gave Cori a light squeeze to make sure he was in control, taking care not to scratch or puncture the white flesh with his claws.

"Don't scare me, mate. Something bloody nice happened for once." Another smiled crept along his muzzle. "I wonder how me other half is doing."

----
"Like shit cause he doesn't have someone like me to watch his ass for him," said the Corinthian, a smirk on all three of his mouths.

It did seem too good to be true, after the past months when each cycle had been a source of sorrow for them both.  And to their benefit, the box had one bottle of serum left if they couldn't get Holland to replicate it from the sheet right away.  Everything had gone well, and thus far there had been no situation that required their expertise, except one.

"Save the massage for the morning," Cori muttered under his breath, "let's fuck, right now."

----
"And finish breaking your back?" The grin went toothy.

----
"You know I like it that way," Cori replied, his own grin just as toothy.

----
John looked thoughtful for a moment, with all the supposed wisdom humanity had injected the creature his shape was hybridized with, before giving the nightmare's back a harsh, solid shove to the floor. His inhuman speed was demonstrated when the magus beast was swiftly on him, the bony member already probing Cori's rear clothed or not. He could feel Constantine give a hot moist puff to the back of his neck.

"Like this?" he breathed.

----
No doubt the chair fell on its side too, a loud bang but certainly not the last in this apartment.  Cori squirmed face up, he struggled against John but it was hardly instinct, it was arousal.  The hot breath on his neck helped.  Those teeth eyes parted to let a small pink tongue slither out and lick his lids.

"You're getting there," remarked the professor, though ethics weren't on his mind right now.  The fabric blocking off access to his rear stretched with a growing erection.

----
A claw drug along his back, towards the nightmare's waistband, hooking under them. Temptation nibbled, and his other paw followed, tearing them down the middle, the rip allowing easy access. He buried his nose there, lapping at his ringpiece, his own member protruding from its sheath. He could taste it all, smell it all; that was his extent of the additional perks from the monthly "exotic" fuck, only this time he was in his largest form, rather than a smaller mockup.

Cori could feel the pinprick of claws as he grasped his arse with both paws. Jesus, Constantine could not get enough of it. The musky aroma of Cori's arousal fueled his own.

----
His expression changed briefly when he heard the threads tear.  Right down the center to make space for his cock, right down the center of that lovely brand name, not that Cori was some kind of couture slut, but really.  He reached up to take John by the fur, his muzzle if possible (not likely).

"You're paying for those," the nightmare managed to threaten before he tilted his head back from the feel of a warm tongue and a cold nose.  He spread his thighs farther apart; John already knew he was damn easy for the magician.

----
Any sort of grabbing was futile. "Why worry... if... everything is a dime a dozen here. Economy... means fucking nothing, mate..." His claws had drifted to the top of the nightmare's thighs, pulling back as he pushed his tongue in. Cori could feel that cold moist nose wedge itself in his ass crack with it, whiskers and all.

----
"They... make my ass... look good."

For once Cori had a hard time keeping up with the small talk, he had no problem keeping up with being hard though.  Say the same for your damn suit, he thought to himself as John worked a professional rimjob.  He couldn't form the words as he reached for his own erection to stroke it.

The Corinthian remembered, this was Constantine's fullest form, donned only three days a month.  How different was it really?

----
John's ear twitched at the sound of his hand jerking himself away. He had something to say about that, first sentence starting the grip around Cori's legs tightening, a harsh flip rolling him erect cock up. That long tongue trailed from the asshole, over the balls, around that shaft to the tip. The magus was a looming shape over him, his silhouette offering the illusion of feeding. Maybe he was.

----
Eck!  His hand slid from his hard on as the nightmare found himself turned onto his back.  The werewolf was looming over him, between his legs, there had to be essays written about fantasies like this.  Only this was reality.

Briefly, just briefly, the Corinthian reconsidered their decision to play with John's form.  He looked a lot bigger from this perspective, he was stronger, no doubt thicker.  But he was still John Constantine, the serum had brought his old man to the forefront.  The magician knew what he enjoyed.

"Oh shit," he hissed softly as John coated his cock with saliva.  The very sight of it turned him on, enough to lift his pelvis up and thrust against that muzzle, that is if John wasn't already holding him down.

----
John was not, those two powerful forelegs, arms planted at either side of the nightmare. The cock thrust found its head grazing past the prickle of whiskers against the reduced frontal teeth. Any harder and Constantine would have tasted blood.

He wasn't too sure about a traditional blowjob as it was, but careful with those teeth, he slid them along the shaft, "kissing" that frenum with a muzzle nudge. His padded thumb played along his balls, over and under, his hulking form supported by his three other legs. That large hybrid cock was very red against the white fur and very out.

----
"I like it," he purred, to assure John that the teeth didn't bother him.  He liked to use his own on the Englishman's dick after all.

Teeth added a sense of risk that stimulated the nightmare, intoxicated him, though the real risk was getting that hybrid todger inside him, and he was determined to do so.  He was the more experienced of the two where large insertion was concerned, it felt good to know how much they could... accomplish.  His skin felt hot.

"Lube... get the lube," Cori begged as he sucked in a gasp.

----
John rest his head on the Corinthian's stomach, fur brushing his mast eager to set sail for... Greater Pleasure Island, for lack of immediate destinations he could bollocks off the top of his furry head. It didn't matter.

"Jog my memory." Cori could feel the rumble in his throat.

----
He raised his head to stare at the little... the large cocktease.  "Same place, nightstand, bathroom.  You know," said the nightmare, aware that this waiting game was only going to make it better.  He reached down to squeeze his own erection again.  "Come on," he urged.

----
John twisted his head, lapping at his nose. "Bugger me. Looks like the drug keeps me from remembering everything.

"What did you say again?" A paw pad teasingly traced around a nipple.

----
As long as John didn't hook a claw over his piercing, because Cori found it in himself to sit up immediately and grab the magus by his cheeks.  He met the other nose to nose, werewolf or not he made his request known.  Hot.

"Get the lube so we can fit your hard fat cock in my ass.  Now."

----
No claw hook, not yet. That paw pressed down, the magus puckering his muzzle: "Come off it, mate. I fancy meself the alpha around here." He draped his shaggy massive torso around the nightmare, chance brushing the nightmare's cock on "accident." His tail flicked, his other paw fondling his own sensitive, swollen cock, pushing the sheath back. "Unless you can prove to me otherwise."

----
His hard member bobbed when John brushed it, 'by accident.'

He wanted to play that game.  The old bastard wanted to challenge him.  "That's cruel," huffed the nightmare, his hands releasing that smug furry face.  "No lube then," Cori concluded as he made a grab for that swollen red one.  He was lighter, for certain, but he was counting on John being unable to resist as the white horror attempted to climb over him.  On top.

----
Constantine flinched and grimaced on reflex as the nightmare grabbed his very sensitive, quite enhanced extension that rivaled Jack.

"Watch it," he cautioned. "I bite when I feel teeth, an' I bite when I feel other things too." Cori was on top for now, but the magus' muscles were spring loaded, tensing as he watched the Corinthian intently, amused. "But you knew this already."

----
"I'm counting on it.  So shut the fuck up and tell me how good it feels," the Corinthian uttered in a low hungry growl.

What fabric was left of his skivvies, if any at all, he brushed aside as he lowered himself onto John's throbbing live version of Jack.  Christ it was big, the rim job and his experience barely prepared him for it.  Cori squeezed his cock, as it was lubricated enough from John's own fluids, and pushed two inches of it into his hole.

"Je....sus..."  He shut his teeth eyes, trying to relax around the girth.  On top, in control.

----
John pressed all of himself into the floor, presenting the full white of his underside. The nightmare's ass was threatening to devour his dick alive.

"Way to... break... a virgin ass... innit?" His tongue lapped at his nose several times, eyes squinted shut.

----
That was one way of putting it.  A dangerous look crossed his eyes, and it would have been more evident had he pupils and irises like everyone else instead of teeth.  He felt challenged, as if this were some sort of sport and competition rather than lovemaking, and usually that was equal fun and games for them.  It felt a little different tonight.

"You think... you can break me in," Cori asked as his rear slid down farther between winces, taking in another two inches of that length.  His skin was crawling between hot and cold, sweat beaded across his forehead.  "Do your thing, baby," he absently asked of John as his cheek settled on the man's hybrid chest, ass up and only half filled.

----
John purred in the Corinthian's ear, that large paw settling on his head, digits to thick to comb through the white hair. His cock was suffocating in there; it was heavenly.

"Not even close to the knot."

The Corinthian found himself below once more, perhaps on his hands and knees, as the magus pulled out, pushing the four inches he made it to again. Out and in, slowly and easily. Firmly.

----
"Make it happen.... magic man," sighed the nightmare, his face brushing away from that hairy chest (far hairier tonight) to the hard floor warmed by their heat.  He was on his knees and elbows now, all of them sure to be rough patches after this.

"Fuck," Cori hissed under a mixture of pleasure and pain.  John's cock might have been enraptured by the tightness, his muscles overheating to make those thrusts feel even better.  The Corinthian had nothing to grab, no sheets, no fur, only his own hands that balled into fists.  Blood welled under his nails, sharp ones.

"Nngh... put it all in," the white blonde grunted, his voice cracking as his nose started to run, but there were no tears.  He dismissed the reaction as one due to the pain.  He would not disappoint John, and to prove himself he slowly shifted from his knees to his feet, raising his ass so the Englishman could have better, deeper access.  One hand went flat against the floor, smearing blood with it.

----
John could smell blood mingling with the sex, but he was in too much ecstasy to notice that this said blood was not around his arsehole region. Giving the nightmare a look, he was about to hesitate until he recalled his compliance with allowing Jack's knot within his own. Cori allowed him to push a limit, suppose this would not hurt... too much.

The rest went in with much strain on even Constantine's part, his knot pressing against the nightmare's ass. However, Constantine was not as experienced with insertion as Cori was; the things Constantine fucked usually able to accommodate him as it was. He was panting and heavily at that.

----
"Huff--nnrgh," the white blonde grit his teeth in strain.

His feet arched as the man pushed in that great length.  It felt good to be filled, to be stuck by the magus, his old man, he wanted nothing more than to have his semen leaking down his thighs.  Why did he feel sick?  Scratch that, Cori knew why, he should have known not to push his own limits.

The nightmare's body ached from more than just the fight, more than just what should have been incredible sex.  His muscles were electrified, his cock still hot and hard.  Nails scraped along the hard floor, an ugly sound.

"Pull out," he pleaded, warned.  From his rear view Constantine might not have noticed the contorting expression on the Corinthian's face.  His teeth clenched, the fangs elongating, some incisors shortening.  His nose started to flatten, unsure if it was supposed to be lupine, feline, or animal at all.

----
John's ears went erect. "Cori..." He grunted, "what happened to the bastard that... wanted to be broken in?"

That sound. That sound was not right. There was something sour in the lush odors of intercourse, something horrid. The fact that his cock was swelling out even more to ensure copulatory lock as nature intended was not helping matters.

He gave an experimental tug. Stuck.

----
That bastard had packed up and left to make room for a new one.  Something about this new jackass worried the Corinthian.  He should have known better.

"Fucking... christ," he uttered in a throaty cry.  His ass felt the swell, that lock he treasured as a rare delicacy in their bed.  Not so tonight, it was unfair.  He fell to his knees again, perhaps inadvertently tugging John with him.  His enlarging hands clawed at the ground.  "Get out of me," Cori groaned, a mix of anger and fear.

They still had the serum, one dose left in the box on the table, if either of them could reach it.

----
Could John take a dosage with those ridiculously thick paws? The nightmare was not doing any better. Both sets were fucked and clumsy.

"Cori, I, er," his voice sounded very human at this point. It might as well have been the magus behind him, the light tongued English accent odd coming out of the beast. "I think we really are stuck." He gave another tug. "You know, I... can't shift out. Not until another day, uh, but it only lasts about half an hour, right?"

The mutant hands pushing out from those immaculate pale human ones bothered him all the more. He swallowed a soft whine.

Jesus Christ, oh Jesus Christ what have I gotten meself into? This can't be from the friggin' lube. Tug, yank.

----
"It hurts bad," the nightmare tried to bite down on his cry.  He rarely ever said that.  His tolerance for pain was damned legendary, and more so he would never admit to it like a child.  It hurt his insides.

He covered his face with one palm and weaved the other through his hair.  Hot, cold, hot, cold.  Mind over fucking matter you useless son of a bitch, he snapped at himself, trying to exercise control.  His body quivered and it wasn't because of the huge member stuck inside him.  He wished it was just that.

"Shoot me up, get a motherfucking needle," Cori coughed, paying no mind to the fact that they were stuck, making retrieval difficult.  He groaned again, louder, more guttural, followed by a characteristic hrrsch.

----
That was a phrase Constantine had sworn that he had never heard Cori say in the time they had lived together, or was he slowly growing senile and could not recall? It was hard for a bloke with his brains scattered on the sidewalk to complain anyway.

Was this because of a lack of lube? Another whine sucked down into the pit. Everything he touched was turning to shit; conscious or not, he might as well have been locked up anyway, might was well have been...

No, he could help Cori, he just had to be careful with the needle (hot semen spilled from his cock with a trickle -- oh Christ). He gave his paw-hands a look, wondering how the fuck he was going to accomplish this, but there he went, dragging the suffering nightmare with him. He was ashamed to admit, in his nightmare's pain, that the pull against his caught dick didn't hurt at all: It felt so fucking good.

----
Cori didn't think he'd ever said those words either, brains across the sidewalk or not.  Saying it hurt like a fucking bitch was different in tone and context, this just hurt.  Perhaps it was the lack of lube, or the lack of lube was a catalyst for something they both should have seen coming.

John didn't need to be locked up, what they needed was to exercise some self-control.  He could feel the hot semen inside him, locked in his ass from that knot.  It should have brought a strained smile to his face but all Cori could do was grimace.  The bumps along his bare spine started to rise with a crick and pop.

While the magician felt good in his panic the nightmare felt embarrassed and weak.  He was stuck there like some mutant incapable of controlling his condition (the very condition his body absorbed from the hot white fluid).  Cori had had it under lock and key for months, he should have known his new body wasn't accustomed to it yet.

"Hurry," he said between the ragged claws that covered his contorting face.  His ears had started to stretch into hairless points.  Ironically the Corinthian was looking more and more like the monster he was supposed to be.

----
"I'm fucking getting to it," John growled, not daring to look at Cori. He did not want to. Couldn’t bare to.

But hell, he was going to have to soon.

His ears reflexively flattened against his head as his paws fumbled with the box. They could get it open but he remembered that bottle being bigger. His paw pads functioned differently from human fingertips, the curving claw protruding from the top getting in the way, the limited sensitivity that made the whole damn thing akin to feeling around with his feet.

"I'm... right on it!" he assured, wondering how in god's holy name he was going to pinch the syringe out of the box without accidentally breaking it. A claw scratched at it.

----
Hairs hadn't sprouted all over his body, some areas had already grown tufts of fur as if to signify he was not like the others.  He was a combination of several creatures, mammals for the most part as he was built in a mammal's image, but his 'pelt' remained white like his hair.  The Corinthian's pattern resembled not one particular creature, only beast.

His 'tail' began to protrude over the thick cock in his rear, its smooth naked tip bumping into John's soft belly as pale skin stretched to a near translucence over his bones.  Jagged teeth hissed and snarled in protest but those large yellow-clawed hands grabbed onto the kitchen table for fucking life.

"Don't look at me," pleaded the nightmare now that his face was bared.  His right eyemouth had distorted till teeth grazed his own cheek.  He felt disgusting.

----
John had hooked the syringe out, only to drop it with a clattered to the floor. It rolled away, meriting another miserable drag for the nightmare.

He too felt helpless, his gaze fixed on the savior needle distancing himself. He was terrified, and was begging his engorged cock to dislodge itself, but it was stuck as all fuck.

He was afraid to drag Cori. He was afraid of what he was becoming. Anything he did would have exacerbated the situation, he felt.

He was useless. A ruiner.

"Cori, I'm sorry." He didn't want to look, stuck as he was. He sightlessly but gently angled the tail into a curl away from his gut. It was still yet against him, a constant reminder of what was happening to his poor sod.

----
He felt the floor at his feet again, his bigger clawed feet that scraped and clacked with their movements as if he could pull himself off.  Every gesture increased the pressure in his stretched colon.  It ached.  He wanted to get the fuck away from the large lupine behind him, get that damned offensive red dick out of his body, clean himself of the seed it left behind.

Cori wanted to be able to turn around and clutch John to him, to be able to hide his mutant face in the man's chest.  Conflicts.  Drool started to drip from his short but toothy jaws, his nose was still running.  A clear salty fluid slid from his distorted eyemouths.

"Nnghrr," he sounded as he tried another futile pull, either it was a reach for the needle or he was still trying to tug himself off that large bony member.  Blood started to stain the Englishman's white fur in that region.  "Drawwerr," said the nightmare, he held up two claws, "pillsrr."

----
Pills? Pills.

The box was discarded back to the table with a noisy thump. John dragged Cori along, or perhaps he could move with him now -- he gave some guidance if that were possible, this time for the drawer. Was the nightmare too heavy to drag along? This whole situation made the magus want to throw up, pausing a moment with that turned thick head to try to bring up the limited contents of his stomach.

Food, food he needed food and here he was expending energy on needless procreation. Food food food.

----
The nightmare forced himself not to care about the pain in the dragging.  A little guidance helped, it would have been best if John could carry him along, attached this way.  Whichever way they managed, be it with more blood from his anus or not, Cori's claws fumbled at the second drawer of the night stand.

Under some magazines and miscellaneous items he found a dark brown watch case.  Inside it were two clear bottles of pills, one for stimulation and the other a sedative.  He popped the cap of the latter off with his large clumsy thumb, spilling some of the white tablets as his 'muzzle' swallowed what he could.  Cori dropped the bottle afterward, he didn't care where it went, only that a little OD would help for once.  His body could take the dosage.

"Oh gorr... fuh me," he choked out as his arms held his full pelvis.  His own shaft had long gone flaccid.

----
Here, John had finally watched, cursing himself for not having looked the whole time. Normally he gazed upon the gruesome and horrifying and stared and  then regurgitated the story to some random blokes at the pub for reactions, but here he did not want to. He was fucking scared to the pit, fearing for both Cori and his dick, clueless.

Clueless. Clueless John Constantine. The man with the plan, the enigma with a sauceful of secrets and a head full of answers, had fucking nothing for once for Cori's condition.

He couldn't even help himself. Werewolves were a lot like colds.

The pills were downed, the magus only wondering what would happen next. The nightmare was a victim of his disease. He wanted to hold him, tell him it's alright, but it was affecting him differently, all too much so. The magus was allowed the decency to become something recognizable, but the nightmare was becoming his purpose in physical incarnate. He was not sure if he could take the jagged arranging muscles and bones within him in his arms. He should know.

"Jesus, Cori... Jesus, if only I knew..." I wouldn't have asked.

----
Like hell if he had any words for John right now.  He didn't directly blame the man for this reaction, it was his disease but it was Cori's decision to take it into his body.  Bad decisions, lack of self-control on both their parts, not enough discipline.

All he wanted was to feel good with his magician.

The low scrape of bone against bone did not feel good at all.  His left shoulder dislocated, the disease rending his body to a more quadrupedal shape.  It wanted to turn that left arm into a foreleg but the shift began to slow.  It slowed to a stop, leaving his arm in an awkward position.  The Corinthian shivered, a monstrous inhuman thing, the darkness under the bed, the watchful eyes in the closet.  A shivering weak and embarrassed thing.

He glanced over his shoulder, back at the full moon creature behind him, inside him.  The nightmare stuck in an indefinable shape reached for one of those large clumsy paws.  He needed to hold onto it.

----
The Corinthian, or what was him, had no problem taking the magus' thick paw, perfectly formed and functionally melded between the two species. John continued to stare, not sure of what to make of the whole thing, but a creeping anger and sadness balled up in his stomach, threatening to sink him.

He finally was able to pull out, the last part of the canine semen cycle still dribbling from the shrinking cock. Their "hands" slid apart.

Did he do this?

"Cori, I can't. Jesus Christ, I'm so fucking sorry. This is all my fault... I didn't mean to." He shook his head, pathetically human despite his unconvincing bestial exterior. He stepped back, tail sliding between his legs. "I'm sorry. If I had... Fuck, Cori, I'm so sorry."

----
A slick wet sound followed the flesh that left his body, trailing blood and semen down his legs and onto the floor.  Some of the fluid mingled, stained pink from his sore ringpiece.  His hand fell away from that large paw when the panicked magus stepped back.

The Corinthian felt weak and pathetic, fucking distended.  He didn't want to be seen, especially by John, but he didn't want to be alone either.  His good hand reached for the sheets on the bed, attempting to tug them downward to cover himself on the floor.  His shaking and shivering wouldn't stop.

".... Helrrp," Cori plead in an unsteady voice.  Forget the apologies, he had no words for how he felt except disgusting.

----
Help. What could John do to help? The very sight of Cori like this broke his heart, and his cock had no discrimination. He was disgusted and ashamed, although with himself more so than his nightmare. 
 
His nightmare. He let that run by again. Funny that.
 
Funny that. 
 
He had seen worse twisted and writhing in the deepest bowels of Hell, he continued to remind himself. It helped no less. He could not bear to see him under there like that, could bear to listen to the rattle of misshapen lungs, the distorted odor that had once so thrilled him. 
 
He turned around to walk away. It all hurt too much.

----
Asshole.  Bastard.  Selfish son of a bitch.  The insults rolled through his mind as he felt John's shadow turn.  Couldn't he see the nightmare needed help?  Cori was in more pain than he had ever felt before (no, it didn't rival the blowtorch and pipe, but it came close).  He needed John.

"Don'leve mehr alone," he uttered, almost inaudible... to human ears anyway.  He barely had the strength to crawl after the Englishman, crawl like a vulnerable freak of unnature.  "Johrrn," that once calm and cool voice choked.

----
John began to pant. He had no idea if he was actually hot or if it was his human perception that made him reflexively feel hot in projection. The crawling, the begging. Giving one more look over his shoulder he no longer saw poor twisted Cori; he saw everyone else.

Gary. Anne-Marie. Emma. Elle. Scarab. His father. Cheryl. Astra. Anita.

No. Some of those, no, them were still alive. The others were creeping presences manifesting around another shafted by his own doing.

He ran to the door. He covered his face as it was buried against the wall the best he could do it, unknowingly pricking his face. He felt too human to remember his current inhumanity. Ignorance was bliss.

Squeaking, "God, just leave me alone."

----
He didn't have the strength to run, he didn't have the strength to yell at the man for his damn tendency to fucking quit, quit on him...  The Corinthian remained on the floor, his body still afflicted with shakes as his good arm stretched out to grab air.  He couldn't move any farther, but he tried.

"Orrld manhr...."  The nightmare heard the words he wanted to say, don't look at me, don't give up on me.  I'm sorry I'm not human.  His clawed hands, knobby at the knuckles, balled into a fist as if doing so would eventually yield him the feel of John's white fur in his palm.

----
It was Constantine's unusual overbearing caution that people were barring their damn doors and keeping the silver out come full moon that kept him inside. Cori needed him. John would be useless if he were dead. Dying of a goddamn silver bullet in his back because he couldn't face up to his own fuck ups. The thought of the metal made him shudder.

His back was against the door. He looked down at Cori, the once human perfection crafted by different hands no less skilled. Reversal made Constantine a hybrid perfection, a paragon hunter of the monster world.

What was Cori now?

He shut his eyes. Ghosts were burned into the backs of his lids, sneering faces and burning gazes.

That's right, you useless shit. You scamming conman. You liar. You bastard.

They shot open, still on Cori. He tried to avoid even blinking. The cooling sensation on his tongue was hardly felt.

----
The Corinthian was conscious still though his senses were beginning to numb.  He could smell John's fear, John's guilt, and likewise perhaps the other could smell his own emotions; weakness and shame and need.  His fingerclaws dug into the floor, trying to grapple so he could pull himself forward.  He couldn't.

What was once a predator, nightmare crafted to dark mirror perfection, was now reduced to a hybrid inhuman creature.  His face had narrowed, mouth and nose pulled flat and forward with sharpened teeth.  Those ears remained pointed and thinly furred, hoop still dangling in his left one.  His half shifted shoulder was larger than the other and left his arm incapable of full movement.

His teeth eyes, the features that made him, had grown jagged in places, mouths stretched in the corner, but they were still his eyes.  They could emote, which they rarely did, except for now.  His eyes appeared scared when they looked into John's blue ones.

Don't go.

----
The sight would have scared anyone normal away, but John had long since come to terms with the fact that he was anything but. He swallowed: the fear, the guilt, the shame. He slid down to the cold floor in a weak settle on his haunches, watching with a morbid horror as the nightmare tried to reach. John's intent was anything but to taunt. He should have pushed himself forward.

His foot was just in reach.

----
A foot, toes, warmth in the cold.  This wasn't any port in a fucking storm, it made him feel better just knowing John didn't walk out the door.  He had to look hideous, deranged, a mutant monster (exactly what he was made to be).  Anyone would have run and left him behind.  Not his magician, he didn't think John would, a fellow veteran of the dark.

His fingers, claws, brushed white fur.  Enough.  Those bony appendages wrapped around the werewolf's foot, large and solid.  Cori pulled himself across the floor, into John if he could.  His skin had grown paler and glistened with a cold sweat.  The first thing he wanted to do was hide his face in the other's chest.  Hide away.

His naked tail, long like a feline's, tucked between his shaking stained thighs.

----
John sucked in a deep breath, his fingers... paws, claws tingling at the mangled version of the nightmare at his feet, clinging so weakly, desperately.

He pulled him close, trying to see the Cori he remembered, the one underneath the bloated distortion. He was like a pathetic child, a weak thing that the obscure god would have fed to his children out of his limited pity. A grotesque bony thing to hold, John reminded himself of the layer of fur between him and the atrocity. His own human disgust did not have to get in the way.

Holding him was the hardest thing to do, against all instinct both human and lupine. Teeth scraped against his chest through his dense hair but John paid no mind. He held.

----
Pathetic child, fresh newborn nightmare, a minute comparison to his predecessor.  He was nothing like that beast, yet the one beast he truly feared was himself.  Just like it was then, just like it was now.  Cori feared the uncontrollable change, the Corinthian simply altered.

"N-no... morrre... fuhrll," he managed to utter into John's whiteness, ".... f-fuhrll moonrr fuhrcksrr."  It was a shitty attempt to let the other know he was there, Cori was still inside.  He had an atrocious body, his face distorted, his skin cold and clammy with a ratty back hackle, but he had his voice.  He had his mind.

He curled his legs inward, sheltered by the larger lupine despite his predatory murder machine form, despite what that form had left between his thighs.  Cori managed to drape his good arm around John's waist, he held for life.

----
The Corinthian's nose ran, but Constantine's coat was quite waterproof, having yet to notice. The magus was still feeling rotten.

"No more," he agreed, placing a paw along the back hackle. It felt like tuffs of weeds with none of the careful layers of coarse and soft he had. John had been blessed by his affliction, in a sense. The nightmare had nothing. Nothing.

It all hurt.

----
There was a moment of recognition.  John understood him.  That eased the pain more than he could express to the magician.  He simply nodded against his softer fur, plush and comforting with a deep beat under his chest.  The rhythm hushed his shivers, or perhaps it was the medication settling into his bloodstream.

Regardless of how, be it the pills or the Englishman's magic touch, Cori felt safer here.  A white net to keep him from falling in his sleep, if he could sleep, but he would if John remained near him.