Growing up, your mother always told you that your father was dead.

Which sucked, sure, but you never knew him, so how can you miss him?

Your mother never failed to deflect the conversation when you brought him up, and you'd just assumed that talking about him was too painful for her.

That's why you were caught so off guard on the night of your 18th birthday, when a man you've never seen before came inside, soaking wet from the rain, with blonde hair, brown eyes and a facial structure eerily similar to yours.

"Hey, kiddo." John puts his hand behind his neck, a gesture that if you'd known him would indicate his embarrassment. "Uh, I'm your dad."

He glances towards your mother, who looks like she's going to kill him right there, and clears his throat. "You wanna... Go get a drink or something? You have ID? Ah, probably not, huh? Well we can get some food and cool drink anyway. Catch up a bit?"

You stare at him blankly for a moment before he realizes. "Oh! Right, right, I'm John. John Constantine. And I kind of already called the cab, so I need'ta know now...?"

Well. What's the worst that can happen? Besides you have a few questions to ask him.

The cab ride goes by in awkward silence, aside from John giving directions to the cabbie, before you arrive at a restaurant that you've seen, but never into before.

You step out, immediately going for the door to the restaurant to get out of the rain, but John stays behind for a bit, seeming to be talking to the cabbie.

When he comes back, he somehow looks like even more of a wet cat than before, but he gives you a thumbs up as he brushes past, leading the way to a more secluded booth.

"You can pick whatever you want to eat or drink, I'll pay. And, if you really want some booze, I know the owner, they'll give you some even without ID."

He pauses for a moment, then, "you are 18 today, right?" At your nod, John relaxes visibly. "Okay, good. Don't drink if you're not 18. I mean, you don't have to worry about that but-"

As John rambles on, you can't help but notice the dark rings around his eyes, and the cigarette smoke that clings to him like a blanket.

"Aha... Enough about that. You probably have a lot of questions, and I just want to get in first and say that I'm sorry for not being around. Your mother and I ended things on bad terms, if you can even call what we had a 'relationship'. I didn't even know you existed until last week, but if I'm being honest, even if I did, I still would have kept my distance."

John takes a deep breath, and suddenly it almost feels as if the air around you has dropped a few degrees.

"My work is dangerous, it gets people killed, and your mother was right to keep me out of your lives."