SEVEN| THE RAGE OF CALIBAN

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OLIVIA'S KNEES bounced anxiously. Her eyes would often jump back and forth between the metal staircase of the Mill House and the clock on the wall. She had been out of town for two weeks for her mother's funeral, which had been extremely hard for her. She stood broken in her mother's favorite garden where she wished for her ashes to be buried (which the owners thankfully allowed it since Caroline would donate money from time to time to help them keep the gates of their garden open). John was very sweet and patient with her before she had left. He even offered to go with her so she wouldn't be alone.

It was a gesture she appreciated more than she could ever put into words. Unfortunately, she had to decline his offer even though she wanted to accept. She knew his attendance would cause some unnecessary and unwanted problems. Problems that might've stimulated from her grandparents. See, Olivia's grandparents hate John. They hate him for getting their sixteen year old daughter pregnant. They put majority of the blame on him regardless of the fact that the consequences of the situation weighed on both him and Caroline.

They also hated him for leaving them, leaving Caroline to raise Olivia on her own. However, Olivia thought they were complete hypocrites. They two left Caroline after some time. They couldn't support that she was a teen mom. They were upset when she refused to get rid of Olivia and chose to actually go through with the pregnancy. Eventually, they cut ties with her and refused to know their own granddaughter, which made the funeral extremely awkward.

But what currently made her so anxious was the way John had been acting when she came home yesterday. He was oddly colder than usual. After her terrible experience at the funeral, she went to John for another magic lesson to which he went along with at first. During their lesson however, he was angry, a lot harder on her, and eventually gave up all together. He left to a bar last night and never came back. She planned on confronting him about last night whenever he decided to show.

Olivia peered up at the stairs when she heard heavy footsteps descending. John appeared on the last step shortly after with a bag of takeout boxes from the nearest diner. He took one glimpse at his daughter-he paused his movements-and rolled his eyes at the look of annoyance on her face. He knew she was gonna chew him out for something.

"Well, look who's finally home." She told him with a mock cheerfully tone. Her smile was anything but happy.

John placed the bag on the table and began moving his breakfast from the boxes to a clean plate (which Olivia thought was stupid). "Sorry, Mum. Please don't put me on time out, I promise I won't do it again." He responded sarcastically.

"What happened yesterday?" She demanded as she rose from the couch. John remained silent. He pretended to be occupied with pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "You were being completely impossible last night during my lesson."

"You weren't taking it seriously." He lied straight through his teeth.

"I take my lessons very seriously." She gaped. These lessons were very important to her. She would never play around or half-ass it. "Okay? I'm only doing it to find some kind of inner peace with everything that has happened to me. My mother's killer is still out there. And despite what others may think, he's not human. I want to send it back where it belongs."

"You're a slow learner. I don't have the patience for that." He lied yet again. She actually picked up on each lesson fairly quickly, which used to mildly impress him; But now when he thought back on it, it only brought him fear.

She cocked her head to the side. A mad frown upon her lips. "You told me that patience goes hand and hand with magic. If you don't have patience then you'll never master the skill."

John internally scolded himself for that terrible excuse. He should have known it would never have worked on her. His daughter was stubborn and determined. "Look, Liv, I'm not continuing your lessons." He saw the look of hurt on her angelic features. "You can continue to tag along, but I can't teach you magic. I'm too busy with the trying to stop the Rising Darkness from spreading even further than it already has."

Olivia frowned. She wished she could come up with a remark, a counter claim, but she was speechless. All she could think about was her mother's murderer would never be found, and she would continue to walk the earth feeling like she failed her. She didn't want to be filled with anger anymore. As if sensing this John spoke. "I promise I'll find whatever abomination killed your mother and I'll send it packing."

Olivia finally built enough courage to look him in the eyes. John didn't miss how her blue eyes burned with anger. She leaned forward on the table, both her hands pressed against the wooden surface. "You're lying. You're hiding something from, and I'm gonna find out. The truth always has a way of coming out eventually."

John swallowed. He expertly masked his overwhelming feelings of guilt, fear, anger, and sadness. He couldn't possibly tell her what he had learned about her from Papa Midnite while he was in New Orleans last week. In fact, he was still in denial himself. He didn't want it to be true, and he thought if he could prevent her from learning magic then they would never have to deal with it. But deep down, under all that fear, he was angry.

Angry at Manny for keeping such a huge secret from him. His anger was running high that Manny himself hasn't visited John since then because he didn't want to face his wrath. But he was also angry at himself. He had the worse luck in the world, and he believed maybe this was all happening because she's his daughter. Everyone he loves always has to suffer because of him. It's exactly why he doesn't like to get too close to people.

John gave her a cold smile. "Good luck with that."

Chas entered the room with the scry map in hand. He noticed the stare-down between John and Olivia, but refrained from commenting. He had his suspicions it was about what John had learned about her while she was gone. He told John it'd best if he told her. She had the right to know after all. He told him that it would be better if she learned from him instead of someone else. But of course, John refused.

"Okay, Zed's in art class." He called to them earning their attention immediately. "You're my problem today." He directed to John.

"Not just your problem." She muttered under her breath, which John then glared at her.

"So, where do you want to start?" Chas asked him.

"Back in bed. Just being honest." He replied without a second thought as he had begun to cut up his eggs. Chas gave him a look of disbelief. "Chas, I know what I need to do, and I'll get it sorted, all right?" His attitude for the past week was still prominent.

"As soon as you go home." Constantine basically ordered him. He pointed his butter knife at him.

He brought his glass of juice to his lips only for Chas to swipe it out of his hands mid sip. John gave him a look of annoyance when he moved his plate out of reach as well. "I'm not going anywhere." Said Chas.

"Fine." John huffed. "Let's see." He picked up a magnify glass and searched the scry map for any wet drops. "Birmingham. That's like what, two hours away?" He pulled his plate back to him. He flashed Chas a smirk. "Well, we'll be there by lunch."

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"Looks like we're late to the party." John said sarcastically as the three of them stood in front of a beautiful two-story home. It had a brick exterior with two sets of double-hung windows on either sides of the house. In the very front was entry steps that lead to a wooden arched door that was now covered with police caution tape.

"It's beautiful." She said to herself with a slight frown. Her hands were stuffed into the pockets of her plain red hoodie. The October air was chiller today.

"Local police blotter reported a double homicide last night. Man and his wife. Battered beyond recognition." Chas explained their latest case to them.

John studied the front of the house. "Bite marks? Puncture wounds? Flesh torn asunder?"

Chas shook his head. "No details in the report. They had a young daughter. Untouched in the attack."

John nodded firmly to no one in particular. "We'll start by figuring out why she was spared. I'm breaking in, you stand watch." He ordered Chas. Olivia felt him tap her arm gently as his way of telling her to follow after him. John hated that he had to stop her lessons, and he hoped if he brought her along on cases she would eventually forgive him. After all, he was only doing it for. To keep her safe. Not just from the supernatural forces at play, but from herself.

Olivia halted when John stopped abruptly. "If I need you, I shall give you a little whistle that suddenly chokes into silence." He told Chas vexatiously.

She followed behind him as he made his way to the clear glass back door. She had observed the ground carefully with every step to keep from tripping. For a fancy house, the ground in the backyard was pretty unleveled. John stopped in front of the door. He tapped his hand against his thigh in a steady rhythm. He studied the back the house closely for the simplest form of entry.

"Now, how to get in." He spoke to himself in a whisper.

Olivia reached up to her hair. She patted her head, feeling for the bobby-pin that she had placed on the back of her head earlier to keep the small bump of her messy ponytail from being too noticeable. Once she felt it, she grabbed the accessory and stepped in front of John pushing him backwards a tad.

"What are you doing?" John asked her skeptically as he watched her fiddle with the lock from an unreliable angle.

Olivia smirked proudly when she heard the lock click. With one hand, she pushed the door wide open. She looked back to her father smugly. She wondered why he didn't just think to pick the lock himself? Hell, why didn't he just come up with a spell that would unlock the door? There had to be one out there somewhere.

"When did you learn to do that?" John asked her with a tiny smirk plastered at the corner of his lips.

She sighed. "Growing up in Star City means that picking locks is equivalent to riding a bike. You learn at a very young age."

John nodded slowly. He released a huff. "Well then, let's get down to business." He gestured dramatically to the open door, signaling for her to head in first. Olivia rolled her eyes before she entered the elegant home. John stood back for a second. She was clearly still upset with him despite their previous civil conversation. He had to remind himself that it was just that: Civil.

It didn't mean in any shape or form that she was okay with his hasty decision to stop her lessons, especially when they meant so much to her. She wasn't him in that aspect. She didn't want to learn because she found it all exciting. She wanted to learn for her mother, but then again maybe he could relate with her. A part of him, deep down, knew his interest the subject peeked when he felt like he could in someway learn to conjure his dead mother.

Olivia lead the way down the empty hall. She could smell the profound stench of blood. She turned to the open threshold of the living area and stopped dead in her tracks. She felt John's presence behind her. The living room was destroyed. There was glass shards everywhere. A gigantic blood stand on the carpet. Blood trails all over the ceiling. The wall above the fire place looked as if someone took a sledgehammer and bashed it in. But the sudden reminder that it was done with a person's body made her stomach turn. That particular space was coated in crimson as well. The gory scene was enough to make her recoil. Her back smack right into John's chest.

She immediately pulled away from him stepping over to the side. Olivia glanced at him to find a frown etched on his lips. She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself to bring herself comfort from the uneasiness this room had washed over her. John studied every inch of the area before he stopped by a wall. On that specific wall was some kind of gooey substance. He leaned forward and sniffed it. He then did something she never expected him to do: he licked it. Out of the all the grossest things she had seen him do, this by far took the cake.

Olivia gagged. She covered her mouth. Her face twisted in disgust. Then....all she did was blink and she was left completely alone. She circled around the room in her exact spot. She was absolutely lost. John then whistled suddenly catching her attention. He came out from the kitchen, but she didn't remember him even leaving.

"Let's go." John told her. His face softened at seeing her all disoriented. "You all right there, luv?"

"Yeah?" She replied although it came off as a question rather than a statement. "I feel like I blacked out. I lost track of time or something."

"It's probably the room. Rooms, objects, or places that undergone traumatic experiences often leave behind a eery or abnormal signature." He explained then gave her a forced smile.

"I got what I needed." He said when she didn't speak. She was still fighting to pinpoint when exactly she had blacked out. She then peered up at him.

"Let's go."

A/N

This wah-hus absolute TRAAASHHH *said like Jean-Ralphio in the tone of flushed with cash*

Also what he learned about Olivia will be said soon.