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My subconscious rarely tells me happy love stories. It was interesting though, and there were also moments where we heard each others thoughts.

My character was not defined, I wasn't precisely myself, but I wasn't a character from the show. My love interest was actor Matt Ryan wearing the guise of John Constantine from the TV series. He wore his trademark white button-up, loosened tie and black slacks. I feel like there was more before this point and I just don't remember. Anyway. Constantine is lying supine on a flat elevated surface, in a barren living room with one large window and dull beige carpet. There are two other people in the house, a man and a woman. We are holed up here while we wait for some threat to descend, they hate John and me by association. The man comes into the room and hovers over John who is clearly unconscious.
At first he only mutters insults under his breath but soon this abuse escalates to pinches and prods. I rush to his aid, yelling at the man to stop, hastily dropping to my knees beside Constantine's head as he stirs restlessly. He raises his head and shoulders wrongly convincing me that he's conscious. I cradle his head to my folded knees with one hand and grab the man's wrist with the other to stop him, but he proves too strong and wrests himself from my grip. He lands several blows to John's rib cage, growling at him.
John's eyes snap open, fogged with confusion and enraged by the intrusion. In a moment of fast building tension, the man's aggression begins to peak, incensed by Constantine's own irritation. I know that if he lashes out he'll just regret it. I try turning his attention to me by speaking his name. He doesn't notice and just smacks weakly at his assailant telling him to bugger off. Jesus, he has the accent and everything. It's confusing, John recoils under a rain of shallow strikes, but once John is lucid, it's his acidic remarks that turn the man on his heels.
"Hey, I'm sorry okay?" The apology turns his focus to me. "I tried to stop him, but he was too strong." I need him to know I wasn't just standing by while someone hurt him. My hair falls in a dark curtain past my shoulder as I lean over him, my palm to his cheek, fingers along his jaw. His expression is unusually...soft, unguarded, like he's not sure he's awake. It startles me because I'm not used to seeing him without his sardonic armor. I realize he has said something to me and I was too busy staring at him to hear it. "What?"
Why are you looking at me like that? he thinks, saying "Is everything alright?"
I notice also that one of his eyes is half green and half brown, split vertically. It's extraordinary. "Yes." I say, thinking I've never noticed your eye before...I brush my thumb across his cheekbone, he closes his eyes all the tension easing from his face. I know he would like me to believe that this attraction is one sided so I withdraw my hand and eventually he sits up and I leave him.

The second part has a little WoW mixed in. There's a complex building, a dark warren of rooms and narrow halls. A young woman in our group was turned by a supposed ally and brought here by a cultist, to cast a spell that would serve the Rising Darkness. I slip into the hallway from the courtyard. The door at the other end stands open and I see one black-robed cultist raising her arms and chanting. In the first room to my left is an Ogre boss that I know I'll have to kill before going into the final room. I turn to fight. It shakes its weapon overhead, enraged at the sight of me. I seriously miscalculated, it wasn't alone and I died horribly, so I had to run back to my corpse like in the game. By the time I returned it was all over.
The house suddenly feels busy, Constantine comes into the Ogre room through a broken window, followed by Chaz and several others. The daylight shines white behind him, outlining his frame in a glowing aura. His face is what strikes me though, his features are grimly worried and exhausted, with a thin sheen of sweat. His dark eyes glitter in the half light, and I hear his thought clearly. You're better off without me, love.
But I'm not. I think.
This has never happened to me before, it is not a sensation I'm familiar with even when awake so this was also particularly striking. An ache settled into my chest and arms with the absence of him. Never have I been so consumed with the need to embrace a person and I couldn't decide what was worse: the haunted way he was looking at me, or the negative space between us.
I close the span between us and and whisper a word past the sudden knot in my throat, unable to articulate my feelings. It was unthinkable to leave him standing there alone, to leave this aching unattended. When did this longing become such a deep, unspoken part of our interactions? When did it become this?
I knew then that he would have left without telling me and had instead came here to my rescue. I had, after all, charged off on my own. Our arms went fluidly around each other, two halves suddenly made whole. The malaise vanished. I could feel where his wrists crossed between my shoulder blades, unyielding as stone, he was solid. Real. I was short, like my waking self, so the top of my head only reached his shoulder. His shirt felt coarse against my cheek and ear where they pressed hard against his chest, I could feel the fine tremor that shook throughout his entirety. Because this hurt too, in a different way. I feel one of his hands move up and the pull of my hair on my scalp as his hand clenched into a fist in it before settling on the back of my neck. No, I wasn't better off at all.

There's a lapse and I'm most definitely myself, in my kitchen, talking to my dad on the phone. This was a couple days after my first student showcase where I've been learning guitar, and I didn't invite my dad because he can be overly critical. He has heard about the showcase and called to ask why he didn't know about it until after. He has somehow seen a recording of it and starts in on my performance. I get really angry and start yelling at him, saying "THIS IS WHY YOU WEREN'T INVITED." I drop the phone, and people in the other room can hear my argument. Constantine thinks I've hung up and mentions loudly to someone nearby that he can't believe someone would treat their daughter this way and calls my dad an asshole. Because I'm actually still on the phone, I start talking loudly hoping my dad didn't hear any of that....and then I woke up.

Apparently I like anti-heroes. *eye-roll*

Post-edit 12/22/2014: Okay, so on the 12th I watched the most recent episode of Constantine. I borrowed a few elements, but I hadn't watched it closely because I was getting ready for work and I only just now really sat down to watch it.

Spoiler for Vague Constantine Spoilers (Because I'm too lazy to go into exact detail):

So the interesting bit here isn't what I borrowed from what I watched before the dream, it's in what I didn't know I was borrowing until just now.
Very loosely: A character is kidnapped, it sounds like it's by a cult.
They introduce the Big Bad for the season, a group of warlocks everyone thought has been extinct for eons.
A woman they thought was their friend betrayed John.
How I touched John's face in the dream mirror's John's action toward a woman near the end of the episode.
I saw Chaz climbing in through the broken window holding the same knife as at the end of the episode.

Certain lyrics from The Honey Trees songs, Golden Crown and Siren.