Cry Real Tears, the Ad Exec Said

Written by Anakin McFly

John Constantine goes casually up to Nelson's doorstep and rings the bell. He takes out a cigarette, lights it, and smokes as he waits. Eventually the door opens.

"What are you doing here?" Nelson asks.

Constantine's only reply is to take out a slip of paper from his jacket pocket and hand it over to Nelson, not bothering to look at him.

Nelson takes the slip of paper and glances at it; he reads the snippet of article, and looks up at Constantine. "Artificial tears?" he asks incredulously.

Connie pulls his cigarette out of his mouth and blows smoke into the cold morning air. He jerks his head towards the car sitting along the roadside. "Reeves is in there," he says. "In the trunk. Do what you want to him."

Nelson Moss isn't budging; Constantine takes another drag on his cigarette and rolls his eyes. "Move it," he says, his command soft but dangerous. "You think it was easy, kidnapping him and getting him into the trunk without killing him?"

"What do I do to him?" Nelson asks.

Connie shrugs. "Try singing to him," he suggests nonchalantly, the sarcasm nonetheless sneaking in the edges of his words. Nelson thinks he detects a smirk, and he gets defensive.

"I'm not that bad," he says tightly.

The almost-smirk does not fade. "If you say so." Constantine gives a cursory glance down the street. It's still empty, but the first sounds of morning activity are starting up. They might be seen if they wait too long. He starts towards the trunk, hoping that Nelson will follow; and he does, eventually, though not looking quite too happy about it.

"We don't have all day," Constantine mutters.

Nelson stops before the trunk. He places a hand on it and hesitates. "Mr. Reeves?" he asks.

There is silence for a while, then in a quiet, steady voice emanating from within the trunk: "Get me out of here."

Constantine steps up to sit on the trunk and sits there, smoking.

"John showed me this article," Nelson says. "It said... said they gave me artificial tears."

He hears an audible sigh from inside the trunk. "Look, Nelson-"

"Those were real," Nelson insists tersely. "It was real for me. Maybe not for you, but-"

"Take it up with the studio," comes the muffled reply. "They did it."

"You thought I wouldn't cry?" Nelson continues, getting louder. "After all that happened?"

"Keep your voice down," Constantine mutters. Several passersby are starting to appear on the street, but for the moment they don't seem particularly interested in some guy sitting on a car trunk with some other guy next to him talking to the car trunk.

"I'm really not in a good position to talk about this right now," the car trunk says resignedly.

"Sing to him," Connie suggests.

"Oh come on!" Reeves says from within the car trunk. "I'm... He's not that bad..."

"Then there's nothing for you to worry about," Constantine concludes. He forces smoke out through his teeth.

"I'm not singing to him," Nelson says.

Constantine raises his eyes to the heavens.

"Can I get out yet?" Reeves suggests.

The road is getting slightly busier; and so Constantine finally gets off the trunk and unlocks it. He casually grabs Reeves by his jacket and yanks him out of the trunk, not giving him time to regain his footing as he drags him toward Nelson's front door.

Nelson starts forward. "Hey-"

"We're going indoors," Constantine replies. "People might see us out here." He pushes the door open and dumps the actor on the floor before going in himself.

Reeves gets to his feet and looks slightly mortified. He tries unsuccessfully to escape John's idling gaze.

Nelson wonders at the smell. "When was the last time you had a shower?" he asks.

"If you'd been locked up in a car trunk for several hours, you'd probably smell the same," Reeves mutters. "Wednesday," he adds in answer to the question. "That's not even your car," he says pointedly to Constantine.

"I'm sure Dr. Mercer wouldn't mind," comes the dry reply.

Nelson goes off to the fridge; he opens it, takes something out, and chucks the can of cold beer at the actor. Reeves catches it. "Thanks," he says. He opens the can, takes a swig, and leans against the wall with his eyes shut. "What am I doing here?" he asks rhetorically.

"We're going to make you cry," says the ever-helpful John Constantine.

Reeves drinks more beer.

"Who drove?" he asks. "You never drive."

"Half-breed Lomax agreed to be my chauffeur after I threatened him with holy water."

Reeves looks blearily at Connie. "Kevin's not a half-breed-"

"Do you know who his father is?"

"Yeah, but holy water wouldn't hurt him-"

"Not if you add cyanide to it."

Reeves gives up, and then wonders why Nelson is holding an onion.

"Here," Nelson says. "Cut this."

"....." said John Constantine.

"What?" asked Reeves.

"We're not using onions," says Connie.

"I'm not singing," says Nelson.

"Can I go now?" asks Reeves.

"NO!" they say.

A pause.

"Forget it," Nelson says. He dumped the onion on the countertop and left it there. "There's nothing we can do anyway. It's over. The movie's over."

"I still want to see him cry," Connie states.

Reeves shakes his head. "You have issues, man."

Connie smirks. "Still like hanging out with me?"

Reeves' only reply is to take another swig of beer. He hopes that Nelson has more.

Reeves wishes that Connie would stop smirking at him. It's making him deeply uncomfortable, and that's even with the beer. He tries to look away, and learns the hard way that it is impossible for anyone to escape when John Constantine smirks at them.

He settles for an uneasy smile.

"Maybe if you stare at him long enough, he'll cry," Nelson suggests from where he's sitting on the countertop next to a grateful onion.

The actor closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "What exactly are you trying to accomplish here?"

"Trying to prove you're not a completely heartless creature," Nelson said, playing absent-mindedly with the onion.

"I'm not. Come on, the script itself said you smiled-"

"He got a Razzie nomination for you," Connie says to Nelson, not taking his eyes or smirk off Reeves.

Nelson slams the onion down on the counter and hops off. "That does it," he says, and yanks a large kitchen knife out of a holder.

"Hey-" Reeves instinctively holds out the empty beer can to block his face, but all Nelson does is grab the sad onion off the counter and slice off its top in one vigorous motion. He goes up to the actor and shoves the onion in his face, batting the beer can aside.

"Cry," Nelson says, gritting his teeth. He decides it's not enough; cuts several deep lines into the onion and holds it back at Reeves, moving his own face away as his eyes start to tear up from the offending onion.

The door opens. They turn to see a confused Kevin standing in the doorway wondering what the heck is going on.

"..." says Kevin.

"I told you to stay in the car, half-breed," Constantine growls.

"What are you doing to him?" Kevin asks, ignoring Connie.

Constantine takes out his syringe of holy water and cyanide and holds it threateningly up at Kevin. "Do you want this in you?" he asks.

"Okay, enough!" Reeves yells from behind the onion. "I'm crying! See the tears? Can you take the onion away now?"

"...Why is there an onion-"

"Shut up, half-breed."

Nelson leans in to check. "Yeah. Real tears. Okay." He takes the onion away, wonders what to do with it, and hands it to Kevin.

"..." says Kevin.

":(," says the poor cut-up onion.

"?" says Kevin.

":(," the onion replies.

"Are you done now?" Reeves asks.

"Sure," Connie says.

"I thought you lived in an apartment," Kevin says to Nelson, glancing around the place as Reeves stumbles over to the sink to wash his eyes.

"I moved out. I was sick of the way you guys kept dropping by."

"And this really helped," Connie says. He smirks and is good at finding people.

Nelson glares at him. "Everyone just coming by in broad daylight without telling me; people could have seen you. I could do without the awkward questioning. It's not like Alex's place out in the middle of nowhere."

"It's been all right so far, hasn't it?" Kevin asks.

"Huh. One day someone's going to say they saw me hanging around here when I was supposed to be at work." Nelson glances over at Reeves, still attempting to splash the onion out of his eyes. "Hey, water costs money!" he yells.

The tap goes off.

"You don't want to make him angry," Constantine points out. "He could make a sequel in which you die."

"Thanks for the beer," Reeves said to Nelson, patting him on the shoulder and ignoring Connie.

"We're done here," Connie says. He looks at Reeves and jerks his head in the direction of the door. "Get back into the trunk. Move it, Lomax," he adds at Kevin.

They leave; the door shuts. Nelson opens it again and watches as they go down his driveway; he casts furtive looks around hoping that no one is paying attention to them, but the few passersby have better things to do than watch Constantine force Reeves back into the car trunk after short but dangerous argument. Kevin gets into the driver's seat and fiddles with the interdimensional travelling device next to the steering wheel; Connie gets in, they start off down the road, picking up speed, and soon they vanish in a short burst of electricity.

Nelson closes the door and locks it. Back to work, now.

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