"Limited to ones' Imagination" - DC Fanfic

The warm aroma of freshly cooked pancakes filled the small kitchen, blending harmoniously with the rich, savory scent of bacon sizzling on the stove. The morning sunlight peeked through the windows, casting a golden glow over the humble home.

Alex stood at the stove, a spatula in one hand and a plate in the other. He carefully flipped a pancake onto the plate, then turned to glance at James, who was sitting at the kitchen table, eagerly waiting for his breakfast.

"Almost done, kiddo." Alex said with a smirk.

James grinned, his small hands tapping excitedly against the table. "You make the best pancakes, Alex!"

Margaret, sitting across from James, smiled warmly as she sipped her coffee. On her plate sat a perfect serving of crispy bacon and eggs, just how she liked them.

"You spoil us too much, Alex," Margaret said, her voice full of affection.

Alex chuckled as he placed James' plate in front of him before returning to the stove. "Maybe, but I like taking care of people."

Some might have thought it was soft for a man to enjoy cooking and looking after others, but Alex didn't care. This life was peaceful.

He had spent so long fighting, surviving, unraveling the chaos of the universe. Here, in this little house with James and Margaret, he found something different—a kind of happiness that was calm, stable, and real.

And for once, he wanted to hold onto it.

The soft hum of the house settling for the night filled the air. The kitchen lights had been dimmed, the plates from dinner cleaned and put away. Outside, the stars shined faintly against the dark sky, and a cool breeze rustled the trees just beyond the window.

Alex stood in James' bedroom, carefully tucking the boy into bed.

James, his face still full of youthful excitement, looked up at Alex with bright eyes.

"School ends tomorrow!" James said, his voice brimming with anticipation. "Are we gonna do something fun?"

Alex smiled and ruffled the boy's hair. "Of course. You think I'd let your first day of summer go to waste?"

James beamed before yawning, his excitement slowly giving way to drowsiness.

"Goodnight, Alex."

"Goodnight, kiddo."

As James' breathing slowed, signaling that he had drifted off to sleep, Alex turned and quietly left the room.

But the moment he stepped into the hallway, something felt off.

A presence.

Something unfamiliar, yet... strangely recognizable.

His eyes narrowed as he stepped into the living room.

There, sitting comfortably in his armchair, was a man with disheveled blond hair, a long brown trench coat, and a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips.

John Constantine.

The notorious warlock and occult detective.

Alex folded his arms and leaned against the doorway. "You know, most people knock."

John smirked, exhaling a small puff of smoke. "And most people don't go messing around with time and space, but here we are."

Alex sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alright, Constantine, what do you want?"

John leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His usual smirk faded slightly, replaced by something more serious.

"I need a favor."

Alex arched an eyebrow. "Depends. What kind of favor are we talking about?"

John took another drag from his cigarette before flicking the ashes onto the floor—something Alex mentally noted to yell at him for later.

"It's about why we searched your soul a while back," John began. "Something... escaped from Hell."

Alex's expression darkened.

"Escaped?"

John nodded. "It's like a Spawn, but different."

That got Alex's attention. Spawn-like creatures were never a good sign... Kinda of. They were powerful, dangerous, and usually tied to some very bad things, mainly Satan.

"And what makes this one special?" Alex asked.

John exhaled slowly, his face grim. "It's been leaving decayed husks in its wake. Bodies with their minds intact, but their souls are gone. They're more like slaves than anything else."

Alex frowned. That wasn't normal—not even for Hellspawn.

"You want my help locating it?"

John nodded. "You're one of the few people who understand this kind of thing."

Alex narrowed his eyes. "And what exactly makes you think I understand it?"

John smirked, leaning back in the chair.

"You can transform into me."

Alex's body stiffened.

"And so, what does that have to so with understanding 'this'?"

John chuckled, pointing at Alex with the cigarette between his fingers. "And if I'm right, you know how to use my powers."

Silence hung between them.

Alex exhaled slowly. He should have known better than to try and play mind games with John Constantine.

"And how do you know that?" Alex asked.

John's grin widened. "Because, mate—you just told me."

Alex groaned, running a hand down his face. Damn it.

John laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," John teased, waving his hand. "But that's exactly why I need you. If I'm right, your abilities give you insight into magic, souls, and all that lovely supernatural bollocks."

Alex sighed. "So what's the plan?"

John stood up, stretching as he put out his cigarette on the coffee table (which Alex mentally added to his list of things to yell at him for later).

"Simple," John said. "You enjoy your little family time, take care of the kid. But once his school is out..."

His expression turned serious once more.

"We hunt this thing down."

Alex exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He looked toward the hallway, where James was still sound asleep.

He had wanted to keep his life peaceful. To just enjoy this normal existence for a little longer.

But if something truly dangerous was out there, he couldn't ignore it.

Not when innocent people were suffering.

... even though he really wanted to.

Alex turned back to John, his expression firm.

"Fine. But I'm not doing this blindly—I want all the information you have before we start."

John smirked. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

As John moved toward the door, he stopped for a brief moment.

"One last thing, mate."

Alex sighed. "What now?"

John turned, his blue eyes unusually sharp.

"I wasn't lying before. There really aren't many people who could understand us—magic, souls, the nature of things beyond reality, even Superman only has two relatives, one of which wishes to kill him."

He took a step closer.

"You're different, Alex. I don't know why yet, but something tells me... you're more important than you think."

With that, John walked out into the night, disappearing into the shadows.

Alex stood there for a long moment, staring at the door.

Then, finally, he sighed and rubbed his temples.

"What the hell have I gotten myself into this time?"