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Somewhere Between	By : AceMaxwell Category: G through L > Hellboy Views: 13422 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellboy, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
-- John
I don't leave Hellboy's lap for the duration of the trip, mostly because the van is completely crammed when it's loaded with two paranormal teams. The only one with his own space is Torque and that's mostly because he got splattered with blood when the wyrm disintegrated. Yvette is sitting in Lazarus's lap, complaining about that fact very loudly. Every few minutes, she lets him know that, if his hands travel anywhere inappropriate, she'll kill him. He behaves himself, but I catch the slightest of blushes on Yvette's face.
Rex was stuck in the front seat with Ralph with the strictest of orders not to become visible under any circumstances. I doubt he actually understood the order, since the first thing he does is change about eight different colors as he tries to crawl through the tiny window that connects the cab to the back. Eon makes a motion at him from her perch on Liz's knees and he immediately calms. She goes right back to chatting happily with Abe in sign language.
On our end of the truck, Red is having a hard time keeping his hands to himself. His lips trail along the back of my neck, making it really, REALLY hard to save anything for later. It feels like I've been away for months and my body responds to his every touch, which is bad, considering we're surrounded by people.
"HB, quit," I hiss, trying to pull his hand out from under my shirt.
His tail curls possessively around my leg and he completely ignores my plea, "Not possible."
"Hellboy," I whine, squirming against his hold. I know I'm not going to last long if this keeps up. My desire for him sadly overwhelms my modesty and I need more self-control than I've ever used before to keep from jumping on him. He's just as bad as I am, except he has no self-control.
He answers me easily, as if I were asking him to go back a channel to a TV show I wanted to watch, "Nope." His lips brush against my ear, sending shockwaves down my body, "I missed you."
"I missed you too, but can you hold off until we get back to base?" I stop his hand on its intended path up my thigh while I whisper at him, trying to ignore his growing hardness.
Dear god, I have a matching erection and we have at least twenty minutes until we get back to the bakery. I'm immensely grateful that Eon is so wrapped up in her conversation with Blue. This is not something I want to explain to a young, inquisitive mind. I pull the corner of HB's slimy jacket over my lap, since I'm still wearing it, and hope for the best.
"Please, just wait," I lean in to whisper against his lips, giving him an open-mouthed kiss. "We have all night."
I offer the last statement suggestively, thinking maybe it'll tide him over until later, but it's a bit of a gamble. Either he'll be sated with the idea for a little while or he'll want to throw me down here and now. I'm relieved (and slightly disappointed) when he grumbles and slides his arms to rest around my waist.
I try to remind myself that it's for the best.
When the sea of hormones finally starts to ebb, I look over at the Society. I don't know how I'm going to leave them tomorrow, especially knowing that I probably won't see them again. I'm almost tempted to say that we should all stay, Abe, Liz, Hellboy, and me, but that's impossible. The Society doesn't have the right facilities to house Abe and Liz shouldn't have to leave America, not to mention that the Bureau is the only home HB has known in the past several decades.
Besides, running from Manning won't fix anything. I need to go back and confront his sorry ass for deporting me. I may not have any authority against him, but we have to find some kind of compromise or things will never settle. I do wonder if he's thought about the fact that the entire Bureau rests on the freaks and pissing us off means that we won't work.
I can almost imagine that headline: 'City overrun by demons because freaks go on strike!' Manning would deserve it, but none of the other innocents caught in the crossfire would. I lean back against HB and brood, but I don't find an answer to the Manning problem before we get back to the bakery.
Ralph pulls into the back door, the only place where they can unload Torque without anyone seeing, and we all pile out like a relieved group of sardines. HB raises his brow at their base of operations, but he doesn't say anything about it. I'm glad he decided to keep any snide remarks to himself. He's not always so thoughtful.
He does, however, prod me a little to get me moving. I was going to ask Abe if he needed to go back to the plane to get anything for his breathing apparatus, but I'm going to assume that he can get that handled on his own. It doesn't take much convincing from Red for me to lead him back to my room.
Oh crap, it's Lazarus's room. I'm going to have to remember to change the sheets tomorrow. I'm really glad he doesn't use his bed all that often.
The minute we're through the door, our clothes hit the floor, and the bed, and the ceiling fan, and I think you get the idea. I press up against Hellboy, winding my arms around his shoulders. Our kisses are more frantic than they were in the cave, heating into a bruising of lips and battle of tongues.
Red braces his hands beneath my hips and I oblige by wrapping my legs around his waist. It does briefly cross my mind that we've yet to do this lying down… and that we're still disgusting.
I break away to pant in his ear, "Shower, now."
HB grunts, but doesn't really move. His flesh hand slides slowly down my back, lingering on my ass. He gives me a firm squeeze that makes me arch into him. I groan embarrassingly loud and go back to kissing him.
NO. We need to take a shower, not screw first, and then shower. We're both gross and I can still feel my skin tingling from being inside that thing's stomach. I unwind my legs and try to get to the floor, but Red tightens his grip.
"Where do you think you're going?" he says, grinning.
"I'm going to take a shower. Whether or not you join me is up to you," I tease and twist out of his grasp. I make a quick stop at my suitcase to grab some lube. "The lube and I are going to the shower. Are you coming?" I wave the packet at him and walk backwards towards the bathroom, giving him the most seductive look I can muster. I don't know how seductive it really is, since I'm grinning like an idiot, but it does its job.
I practically have to run into the bathroom to avoid him catching me again. He snags my arm before I can turn the shower on and pulls me to him with a gravelly, 'Com'ere'. His mouth descends on my neck, licking, sucking, nipping, and traveling steadily southward. I'm pretty sure my eyes roll back in my head from the sensation.
A soft whimper escapes my throat before I can regain my senses, "HB, we're a foot and a half from the shower, please…"
He reaches over with one hand to get the water running, but doesn't stop what he's doing. I buck in his hold as his teeth scrape across my nipple, moaning helplessly. Once the water's hot, Red picks me up and steps into the spray. The shower is tiny, but we don't mind being pressed together. I raise my face to the water and let the grime slide off in rivers. A cold dollop of shampoo drops into my hair. I open my eyes as HB starts massaging it into a lather.
"Are you going to wash my hair for me?"
"Meh, why not? You seemed so upset that you were dirty," he mocks gently.
I roll my eyes, "Just because you can walk around covered in monster guts without a problem doesn't mean everyone can."
He laughs and tilts my head back into the water. As the soap sloughs off, I let my hands play over his slick shoulders. I'm not sure how I managed to hang onto it, but I still have the lube packet. I bite off the corner and give the packet to Red. I don't have to ask, he knows what I want. I press my back against the wall and watch him spread the lube over his flesh fingers.
"How do you want to do this?" he asks.
"I'd rather face you."
"Fair enough," HB murmurs, leaning in to kiss me.
I open my mouth to his questing tongue as his slippery fingers make their way to my entrance. We resume what is quickly becoming my favorite position, with my arms up high on his shoulders and my legs wrapped firmly around his waist. Two fingers push in at once, making a beeline for my prostate. My skull clunks heavily on the tile when I throw my head back, but the slight sting in my crown is overwhelmed by the pleasure Red is wringing out of my lower body.
As wonderful as it is, my body aches for him to be buried inside me. I moan and grind my erection into his, trying to encourage a skip in foreplay. He groans loudly. Don't get me wrong, I like foreplay, I really do. I love getting so worked up that I'm ready to orgasm without being touched, but there's a time and a place for that. That's for a slow, leisurely occasion and I think we are a little too desperate right now.
I'm impressed that he doesn't immediately drop every sense of the word 'control' and slam into me, but that's kind of what I was going for. I grind into him again and lean in to bite his ear, breathing into it, "I can't wait. Now. I want you now."
That gets the effect I wanted. The fingers are gone and are immediately replaced by the head of his cock. He shoves in fast and hard. The pleasure far outweighs the pain. I curl my hands against the tile, gritting my teeth against my howl.
HB's tongue works along my neck, lapping up the beads of water. He makes it to my mouth and pauses to whisper, "I want to hear you." His lips latch onto my jaw as he slams into me.
My scream busts out and echoes in the tiny space. I hope the walls are thick, or soundproof, or both. Knowing the Society's funding, they aren't. I should be quiet, but I can't. Once it's out, I can't stop more from coming. I yowl, and whimper, and moan as Red thrusts into me.
Pleasure sweeps up my body. I roll my hips into Red's, tightening my muscles compulsively around him. We pound on for what seems like days. I whimper, begging for HB to give my cock some attention. I don't wait for him to respond, I arch my back until my penis rubs against his abs. It's almost enough to set me off.
"Oh god, Red!" I gasp when his hand closes around me.
He squeezes and twists his hand, giving me all the stimulation I need. I scream my release, but HB keeps thrusting. I don't really realize that he made it past me tightening around him until I crawl down off my orgasm. It doesn't take long before I'm hard again.
The first few times we did this, I think we were in too much of a hurry to really stretch out to our limit. I'm getting the feeling that we're going to find the far reaches of our stamina tonight. I go off again before he finally succumbs to his orgasm with a roar. I smile as I feel his load shoot deep into me.
Red carefully slides out of me, then pulls me tight against him, settling his face in the crook of my neck. The water is starting to get cold, but we endure it for a few minutes while we catch our breath. HB finally reaches over and cranks it off.
He's so quiet… It bothers me. I slide my fingers through his wet hair, my brow furrowing. "Red?"
"I can't lose you again," he mumbles against my skin.
"What? Red, I-"
He looks up at me, his eyes fierce, "I can't lose you again. In the week we've been dating, you've nearly drowned, been transferred, and gotten eaten alive! Things can't keep going like this."
I'm silent for a minute, dumbfounded. Two out of three of those are just hazards of the job, we don't work in cubicles after all, but it's just because we've had some tough cases this week. Most of our missions aren't nearly so difficult. Unfortunately, I can see where this is going. He doesn't want me in harm's way.
"Red, it's our job… You almost drowned too," the last bit almost sounds whiny, like I'm trying to defend the fact that I'm not the only one that gets hurt. I don't know what to say to fix things. I understand where he's coming from, but I've survived everything that's been thrown at me, and that should speak for itself.
"Maybe you should just…" Red pauses and I realize what he's about to suggest.
"No! I will not be some stay at home housewife! I'm part of the team too and I'm not going to just sit around while you go out and take care of business," I'm trying not to shout, but I'm close to it.
He raises his voice too, "I can't be worrying about you all the time. What happens when there's something we can't handle?"
I duck beneath his arm and grab a towel, rubbing it through my hair a little rougher than necessary, "Then you would need some help and I can't give you that if I'm sitting on my ass at the bureau."
"What if I lose you?"
"You won't." I turn to him, dropping the towel onto my shoulders. "I'm not as fragile as you think I am. At least, not anymore."
HB crosses his arms over his chest, the tip of his tail twitching slightly with his frustration. The twitching slows as we stare each other down. He finally sighs and drops his arms to his sides, "There's no stopping you, is there 'Scout?"
I come back to the edge of the shower to slide my arms around his waist, my anger fading quickly, "I'm stubborn like that."
He cards his hand through my hair. "Will you at least try and be more careful?"
I smirk up at him, "Only if you do too."
"Yeah, alright," he mutters as he presses his mouth to mine.
I bite on his lips, trying to get another rise out of him, and slide my hands down his stomach. The muscles twitch beneath my fingers. I yelp in surprise when Red shoulders me like a game animal and carries me into the bedroom. He drops me on the bed, not so much roughly, but abruptly. I bounce a little, grabbing the headboard to still the movement.
"More sex?" I ask with a smile, teasing him.
He grunts in response and crawls over me. His lips trail up my body. I'm only slightly tired from our session in the shower, so I don't have any complaints. Actually, I doubt that I'd complain about it even if I was exhausted. I don't think I'll ever get tired of this.
It's very, VERY late before we get to sleep and I couldn't honestly tell you how many times we did it. As much as I appreciated having his jacket as a 'replacement' for his smell, it's so much better having the real thing. Wrapped in his arms, I sleep more heavily than I have in days. I don't dream at all.
- HB
I don't know how, or why, but I wake up before 'Scout. I think that means that the world is upside down or something, but it feels just fine to me. He's curled up against my side with his arm flung across my chest, looking way cuter than any one person should be allowed to.
I trail my fingers down his back and barely get a twitch out of him. He must be pretty bushed after last night. I really hope we have more sessions like that, because hot damn that was amazing. We went at it so long that I think I have friction-burn on my cock. I would say that the kid kept up okay, but his stamina was more than okay. He's got to be the most sex-hungry monster I have ever met. Works for me.
John shifts closer to me with a groan and I lift my arm so he can settle against my side. I wrap my arm around him once he's comfortable.
I don't know why I start thinking about the fight we had last night, but it plays through my head like a bad movie. He said it himself, he's pretty damn stubborn. At least as a werewolf, he'll be less likely to die when something smashes him. But, even with his ability to heal, it still means he's getting hurt.
Crap… I can't keep him at home, but I can't spend every moment in a fight watching his back. The easy solution to this would be to let him handle himself. He is right, he's not a breakable as he used to be… I think it's going to take a while before I get used to that idea.
I found out WAY after the fact that Boyscout was the one to kill the siren, protecting me no less, so I guess he'll be alright. I'll just have to look after him when I can and let him fight for himself the rest of the time. I came to accept that fact with Liz (of course, she wouldn't let me guard her ass, except when she really needed me), so why not John?
I feel eyes… I glance around the room to figure out the source and spot the little girl in the doorway. How long has she been standing there? It's kind of creepy, like those kids off the Shining. Although, I guess those were ghosts, not kids.
"What? Go play with your dolls or something," I grump at her, getting a scowl in return.
She signs at me. Has she not realized that it's totally wasted on me? I have no idea what the fuck she's trying to say. I interrupt.
"Look, Blue may follow you, but I don't get it. You've got to talk to me some other way."
She sighs and points at 'Scout. I look down at him. He's still sleeping like a rock, even through our conversation.
"You want John?" I clarify and Eon nods. I was going to let him sleep a little longer, but I guess it's late enough. "Babe, it's time to get up," I say, running my hand over his side.
He groans and slaps at my hand, burying his face deeper in the blankets. This could be quite a fight. I dig my fingers into his side lightly, hoping that maybe he's ticklish. I get nothing but a grumbled, "Quit it." Man, when 'Scout wants to sleep, he gets a little grumpy.
"No luck kid, he's not getting up," I tell her.
Eon comes over, licks her finger, and sticks it in 'Scout's ear. A Wet Willy, not pleasant. Myers bolts sideways and runs into me. That couldn't have been pleasant either. He starts rubbing his head, muttering, "You're like running into a brick wall."
"Yeah well," I answer, trying not to laugh. 'Scout's hair is going about eighteen different directions on one side and completely plastered flat on the other. It's a cute look.
'Scout glares at me and tries to clean the spit out of his ear, "Why'd you do that?"
Wait just a freaking minute, when did this become my fault? "I didn't do anything, it was her," I defend, pointing at the grinning little brat.
John looks over at her and her smile fades instantly, replaced with a furrowed brow as she shakes her head. He doesn't pay much attention to her denial, since he jumps back and tries to cover himself more thoroughly, "Eon, what are you doing in here?" Not surprisingly, a blush spreads over his face.
She makes a few motions with her hands.
John answers her easily, so I'm going to assume that he learned sign language since I last saw him. "It's noon?" She points at the clock and 'Scout leans over to see it. "When did it get so late?" he mutters.
Whatever Eon signs at him next makes them both depressed. She starts pouting and he frowns deeply. This is kind of like watching a soap opera with the sound turned off. I have no idea what's going on.
When John answers her, he sounds choked up, "Alright, well you go start working on lunch and we'll be there in a few. I'll play with you after we eat."
My stomach growls at the mentioning of food. I almost feel like I'm interrupting their moment, but I'm starving. Eon shuffles away, presumably to do what John asked. I'm about to pester him for a translation of their conversation when his stomach grumbles too.
'Scout doubles over in bed, holding his middle. He doesn't give it any attention besides that. "That was so embarrassing. I really hope she doesn't ask Yvette why we were sharing a bed…Was she in here when you woke up?"
"Hell if I know, I was watching you sleep."
'Scout raises an eyebrow and peers up at me, "That's mildly creepy."
I shrug.
John groans, shoving the sheets off his legs. He rolls out of bed and leans over to start digging through his suitcase for fresh clothes. I'll have to search the room for the pants I wore last night, since I forgot my bag on the plane, but there's no way I'm getting up to look for anything when I have such a perfect view of his tight little ass. He shifts from one foot to the other while rummaging through his suitcase and I'm very tempted to take advantage of his position.
"Eon said that our plane is supposed to leave in a couple of hours," John states, clearly oblivious of my lusty stare.
I try and roll with his conversation, but I am way too distracted, "Is that why you two got depressed all of a sudden?"
"She's kind of become the little sister I never had; I don't want to say goodbye knowing that I probably won't see her again."
Liz would be scolding me for this, I can almost hear her in my head, 'Red, pay attention, this is important to John.' God, she's not even here and I feel guilty. I drag my eyes up his body, giving listening my best shot. I got it so far: the little kid is cute (even if she did let me take the heat for HER Wet Willy), John thinks of her like a sister, and they don't want to be separated. What I want to know is how this attachment got so strong in less than a week. I think he'd adopt her if we could.
That gave me a funny mental image… we'd be the weirdest fucking family ever. Although, the idea of John in an apron has its own appeals.
"I bet we can get them to America like they got us here, with the whole 'request for help' bit. Except we aren't waking up any big-ass medieval wyrms for that," I suggest in hopes of lightening his mood.
"Yeah, that probably wasn't the best of plans," he says offhandedly as he frowns at the wrinkles in the pair of slacks he's holding up. "I need an iron."
That takes me back to the 'John in an apron' idea. My mind immediately suggests that he should be naked beneath it. You would think I'd gotten enough nookie last night, but I don't think a guy can ever get enough, unless he's just too tired.
"Why don't you just wear some jeans? That's what you've been in lately," much to my pleasure. I'm really liking the casual John in low slung jeans, so I wouldn't be upset if I never saw him in a suit again.
"It's not very professional."
"Our job ain't exactly a gig in Washington, there's nobody you're going to see that you need to impress. I promise you, the monsters don't give a shit what you're in," I make an excellent point, or at least one good enough to convince Myers. He drops the slacks back in the bag.
I slide to the edge of the bed and it groans under my weight. I hope it doesn't bust. There haven't been too many beds big enough or sturdy enough to hold me once I got past the age of twelve. The converted truck was one of many solutions over the years. I just doubt that this place has the money to replace the bed if it does go out. But, it did survive sex, so I bet it'll be okay.
Speaking of sex, shouldn't Myers be the least bit sore? From the way he's moving around, you'd think nothing happened last night, not even the wyrm battle. Hell, I'm sore from that fight. Lucky bastard. Werewolves really can bounce back from just about anything. If there are too many more perks, I might have to figure out how to become one myself.
"You hurt at all?"
'Scout looks over his shoulder at me. He opens his mouth, his brow all scrunched up, and pauses. He's got to be putting two and two together and getting the same question as me. "No, but I really should, shouldn't I?"
"Yeah. I don't think it's fair that we screw all night and you don't have any consequences."
A beautiful smile creeps onto his face, "It's like being the frat boy that wakes up after the wild party without a hangover. I don't know what to tell you, except that maybe you're starting to feel your age. You are pretty ancient."
"Why you little," I growl, snagging him before he can get away. He falls into my lap, laughing and grinning from ear to ear. God, it's good to have him back. I may not be able to keep him out of the fights, but there's no way I'm going to let anything take him from me again, not Heaven, Hell, or Manning. This little wolf is mine.
I manage to talk 'Scout into one more quickie before we get showered and dressed. I also endure a massive amount of teasing for forgetting my clothes on the plane, mostly because I have to clean up my pants and wear them wet (the wyrm goo on them was starting to reek and I was not going to walk around smelling like the eggs Blue eats).
"I'm gone a week and you don't have any clothes to wear, why does it not surprise me?"
"It's not like I'm out of clean clothes, I just forgot them."
"Because who normally makes sure your suitcase is where it's supposed to be?"
I give him the hairy eyeball as we head to the kitchen, "It's not your job anymore. Ellis took over."
"And where is Ellis?"
"On the plane. He decided to let us handle it after what happened in Venice," I sigh. In hindsight, I probably should've let him know that we weren't coming back last night. He's either wondering where the hell we got off to, or playing on that PDA of his. He is pretty laid back, so I doubt he's pacing the cargo bay.
"Don't let Manning know that Ellis didn't come with you. He'll fire him," John says, sounding a bit downtrodden.
I almost tell him not to worry about Manning, but I think I'd rather it be a surprise. Although, I've only met with the Secretary of Defense, he hasn't actually done anything about the jackass yet. It would probably be best if I don't get John's hopes up. Knowing the way the world works, it's more than possible that he'll just give Manning a slap on the wrist and tell him to try harder to get along with us.
Boyscout pushes open the door to the kitchen and the smells make my hunger eight times worse. I'm about ready to eat the contents of a farm (the cows, the chickens, and maybe even a horse). The Society guys are settled around the table with Liz. Abe's over by the counter, considering a non-spoiled egg. He's probably trying to figure out if it'll taste as good as one that's turned green.
The little girl jumps up from the table and immediately latches onto Boyscout. He scoops her up, "Hey you." She signs at John and he nods, "After I eat. I'm starving."
He takes the seat she just left, holding her in his lap. After a second, 'Scout glances around the table and turns to look at me questioningly. He must've just realized what I spotted when I came in: there aren't any chairs left.
I come over and snag one of the gigantic sub sandwiches from the middle of the table, taking a second to kiss the back of 'Scout's neck, "Spend some time with them, its fine."
His brow furrows, "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," I take my sandwich and lean on the counter next to Blue.
Watching Boyscout with the Society, I realize that he fits in with them perfectly. He's been here a week and he's already laughing with them, sharing jokes, opening up in ways that he doesn't normally do until he's known someone for longer. It took almost two months before I even saw him in casual clothes.
"You shouldn't feel bad for taking him from this," Blue comments, peeling what I now know is a boiled egg.
"He's happy here. They're like his family."
"So are we."
Abe's got a good point. John was ours' first, and it's not like he's going to give us up for them, but he's still very much at home here. I hope we can work something out so he can see them again.
"And, technically, you are his family. Not biologically, but through a form of marriage," Abe adds, eyeing the egg like it might bite back.
"If normal marriage started at sex, there'd be a lot of unhappy people in the world," I snort.
He chuckles in response, "Or the divorce rate would be astronomically higher."
I grin at the face Blue makes when he finally tastes the egg, "Don't like it?"
"It's a waste of what could have been a delicacy."
Why did the sandwich in my hand just get lighter? I look over to find Torque munching on the back half of my sub. Nobody touches my food… Nobody. Except 'Scout, but only if he's bringing it to me or if I've invited him to share, but those are the ONLY exceptions. Rhino-men don't fall anywhere near either category.
"I was eating that!"
He chews slowly, staring at me, "No, you were talking."
I slam down the tiny stub of sandwich that's still in my hand and shove a stone finger into his face, "Nobody takes my food!"
"What are you going to do about it?" he makes the challenge casually, calmly.
It really pisses me off. I don't care that I'm a lot louder than he is when I start yelling. We've got most of the attention in the room, but even John's disapproving frown doesn't stop me, "You sorry sack'a-"
The Russian's voice cuts into our argument like one of Crispy's swords, "You will NOT fight in my kitchen. You want to fight, you go outside."
Torque's ears droop like a scolded dog. I know they're all scared of this broad, but how tough could she really be? Torque's like a foot and a half taller than me, so why doesn't he just stand up to her?
"Are you on constant PMS?" I snap. I'm going to have to blame that statement on the fact that I'm hungry and pissed, otherwise, I might have thought twice before I said it. That's not something I'd ever say to Liz, and I know her limits of her rage.
Right on cue, Liz gripes at me, "HB, don't you dare!"
Crispy (yes, I know his name is Lazarus, but I'm going to stick with Crispy) and John both make the 'bad idea, you are going to die' motion with their hands. It's kind of too late though, it's already out.
Yvette moves her cigarette from one side of her mouth to the other, her eyes narrowing dangerously. I don't know what the hell she thinks she can do to me. In my peripheral vision, I see Blue sliding out of the line of fire. That can't be good. Does he know something I don't?
She gets up and crosses the room in quick strides, I can't stop my smirk. She acts like she can hurt me. I really don't expect her to grab one of my sideburns and drag me down to her level.
"Ow," I growl at her.
"If I was bleeding, you would be dead, demon. I'm radioactive," she growls back, giving my hair a good tug.
I'm about to say something smart-ass but the whole world gets a little fuzzy. I shake free of her hold and lean back on the counter, too dizzy to do much else. What did she… Yvette smirks at me as some energy dissipates around her hand. As soon as it's gone, I feel normal.
Okay… maybe everybody's scared of her for a good reason. I don't even know what the hell she just did, but I know she could've done a lot more than that. She's got some major talent, and I can admire her for that. It's not like I'm scared of her, 'cause I'm not, but she definitely earned a little respect.
What this sums up to: Don't make jokes about her period. I got it, lesson learned. 'Scout winces at my predicament. When I'm feeling more steady, I come over to the table.
"You okay?" he asks, touching my arm. "She pulls the energy out of things. People usually don't fair so well," 'Scout explains as if he knew what I was thinking.
"Didn't do too much to me, so I guess I'm more badass than you are," Liz throws at me.
I glare at her, "Is this 'pick on Red day', cause I missed that memo."
"You generate energy, that's a different matter," Yvette jumps into the conversation, directing her words at Liz. They start chatting, leaving John and I (and Eon, but she's eating) to ourselves.
'Scout goes back to my comment, "I'm not picking on you."
"You were earlier," I grump.
When I lean down to rifle through the food left on the table, he kisses me and gives me a soft smile, "But you're okay?"
"I'm fine," I answer, grabbing one of the remaining sandwiches. "I'm still starving though." I shoot a glare at Torque when I say it.
He sticks out his long tongue at me. Mature…
Eon motions to John, and he translates, "She says, 'To be fair, you were eating Torque's sub'."
"I was not, he ate mine."
John rolls his eyes, "Did it have any meat on it?"
I think back to the single bite I managed to get. There were way too many veggies on it for my liking. If there was any meat on it, I didn't taste it, "I don't think so."
"Then it was Torque's. He's a vegetarian."
A vegetarian? I turn to him, "How the hell do you stay so big eating nothing but green stuff?"
"I must be doing something you're not."
I catch Boyscout trying real hard not to laugh at that. I'm being ganged up on, but I'm not really pissed, more interested in staying on top of these jokers. If I let them walk all over me, it'll just keep getting worse.
"Look, you're already on my shit list and it's very short, so it won't be long before I come for you. Don't push it."
I guard my next sandwich, making sure Torque keeps his distance. I will kick his ass if I have to.
John disappears with Eon until it's nearly time for us to leave, showing up to pack his things. He keeps her on his hip while he shoves everything into his bag, her hanging on like a koala with a puppy-dog pout.
I'm getting the feeling that she's going to miss him the most, and likewise for him. This kid's left an impression on John, a deep one. He doesn't let go of her on the ride back to the airstrip (which is kind of weird, because he's sitting in my lap and she's sitting in his), or when we start saying our goodbyes. I think I might have to pry them apart with a crowbar, or he'll bring her on the plane.
'Scout goes from one member of the Society to the next, dishing out hugs and well wishes. Torque's lip starts trembling when John tells him, "Be good. Don't tease Eon too much."
The rhino-man grabs him up into a bear hug that has to hurt, but he's wary not to crush Eon in the process. John laughs, letting him squeeze him.
"Alright, alright…" 'Scout soothes him, "Come on Torque, put me down."
He finally does, still sniffling. John pats his shoulder and moves on to Yvette. They don't embrace; it's more formal than that. Yvette tosses her cigarette stub on the ground and nods to him, "You take care of yourself, wolf boy." John nods back, smiling at her. He leans forward to say something in a low voice, something that makes her chuckle.
"We'll see," she responds with a tiny grin, shooting a glance at Crispy.
John tries to shake Crispy's hand, but he pulls him into a hug. I almost tell Lazarus to keep his hands off, but I know that there's nothing like that in his hold. He's just saying goodbye. He releases 'Scout with a, "I hope we see you soon." As John turns away, Lazarus says one more thing, "And don't forget about the check you promised me."
John laughs, "I won't." He furrows his brow, looking around the people near him. "Where's Dr. Andrews? I thought he would come by to see us off."
"He left early this morning, said to tell you goodbye," Lazarus says.
John frowns, not really pleased with the answer, but he lets it go. Lastly, 'Scout sets Eon on her feet and crouches in front of her. She's already getting teary-eyed. When I hear Boyscout's voice, I realize he must be too, "I have to go now."
To my right, I hear Liz sigh a sad little 'oh' at the scene. I stay out of it for now. I know this isn't going to be easy for him, but he'll bounce back from it.
Eon latches onto him, shaking her head frantically. John mutters, "I'm going to miss you so much," and clutches her tightly. They stay that way for what seems like an hour, just holding onto one another and her sobbing up a storm. John pets her back in slow circles, trying to comfort her. She doesn't release her hold to say anything to him, probably afraid that someone will take her away from him if she lets go.
Poor kid… both of 'em. I really should stop calling John a kid. He's proved in almost every way that he's more mature than I am. ('Course, it could be argued that most people are more mature than I am, but I won't go there.)
I finally look over at Crispy and motion at the pair with my head, "If you grab yours, I'll grab mine, otherwise I don't think they'll ever let go."
He nods, saying sweet things to the little girl as he tries to pull her off of John. I circle my arm around 'Scout's waist and pick him up, "Come on Myers. Time to go home."
John squirms in my hold, reaching out for her, "No, wait. Let me just hold her a minute longer."
"If I let you do that, we'll end up taking her back with us," I chide him quietly.
"But I'm not ready to go. Please, just put me down! She needs me."
"She's got them 'Scout," it may be a harsh reality, but Myers knows it's true. I didn't really have to say it.
When I look back, the kid's got her mouth open, but no sound's coming out. It looks like she's trying to say John's name, tears coming down her face in rivers. That's gotta' be the most heart-wrenching scene I've ever witnessed, and I don't even like kids. Yvette takes her from Lazarus, holding her tight and cooing to her. I turn and head onto the plane.
John rubs his face against my shoulder. I can feel something wet creeping down my skin, just little drops. He's crying too. Liz tells me to comfort him, that 'I'm his mate and I should do something,' but there's nothing I can say that could make this any better. We've gone over the whole I suck at the touchy-feely stuff. Besides, he's got to be allowed to be upset.
I flop down onto one of the chairs, petting 'Scout's hair and letting him cry. He eventually slows into hiccups and then gets quiet. Except, he doesn't move after he quiets down. Is he sleeping?
"He's exhausted, both mentally and physically."
I look up at Blue with a raised brow, giving him the cue to go on.
"John has not gotten a full night of sleep since he left our possession. Your jacket did not work as well as I hoped it would; it was not a substantial substitute for your presence," Blue explains easily, getting settled with his book.
I shift 'Scout a little and his head rolls onto the crook of my arm. He doesn't even twitch. No wonder he slept half the day away, if he only got a couple hours the past few nights.
Abe throws in one last tidbit before he starts reading, "Actually, the last night he was here alone, he only slept an hour total."
Ellis appears out of the front of the plane, his phone in hand, "Hey, how'd it go?"
He wasn't worried, or stressed, or wondering where the hell we'd gotten off to. I'm not all that surprised. If he knew us better, he should've been doing all three.
Liz kicks off her boots and stashes her coat beneath the seat, "Well, John got eaten, one of the Society's team members got burned to a crisp, HB nearly passed out because-"
"You could leave that part out, Liz," I growl.
She shoots me an evil grin and continues, "But, all in all, it went pretty well."
Ellis blinks for a second or two, glances down at 'Scout, back at Liz, then smiles, "Okay then. This is an important call, so I'll talk to all of you in a minute." He disappears into the kitchenette near the cockpit.
Liz flings her legs over the armrest of her chair and slides down into the seat, "Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm going to take John's example and get some shut eye."
I'm thinking that it's not a bad idea, except I'm still kinda' hungry. It can wait. I wrap my arm a little more snugly around 'Scout and let him sleep. I eventually drift off myself.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
It only takes ten minutes on the ground before we hear from Manning. We'd barely even loaded up in the truck when the Ellis comes over the speaker, "Manning's on the line. He says that we need to meet with him as soon as we get back to HQ. We apparently need to be debriefed."
I can't help but smile when I hit the button to answer, "Yeah, tell him we'll be there… And give Allen a call, would ya'?"
"Already have."
The speaker shuts off smoothly. I bet somebody fixed it since John got infected; I did bust it up pretty good. They might have had to replace it completely.
'Scout perks up immediately. He's been pretty bright-eyed and bushy-tailed since he got his ridiculously long nap on the plane, "Who's Allen?"
I shoot a warning look at both Liz and Abe before they can ruin the surprise. Liz gets the hint easily, "He's just a new guy."
Blue doesn't say anything, but I know he despises lying. I don't think I've ever known of a situation where he was willing to tell a fib, even if it would stop a rampaging she-demon from kicking my ass around. I think about the memory hard, making sure Abe gets it. He sighs and shakes his head.
"That could hardly have been considered my fault," he defends. "You were the one that-"
"Stay outta' my head, Blue," I grump as I see John's curiosity mounting. He doesn't need to know about all of our past cases, especially the embarrassing ones. I didn't want Blue to talk about it; I just wanted him to follow the fact that telling a fib can sometimes be beneficial.
"I'm doubtful of that." When I glare at him, he adds, "But I won't say anything."
"What? What's going on?" John asks.
Liz slides over next to 'Scout, rolling her eyes at us, "Nothing John, they're just having a lovers spat."
"Like I would-" I start to yell at her, but she cuts me off.
"Ignore them. So when are we going to go have another coffee run?"
'Scout snickers and they start making plans. I see the slightest of scowls move across his face when Liz mentions going to the place in New York that they went to before. (She just mentions the address, but I remember where it was. The rooftops over there aren't very evenly spaced.) That scowl's got to mean that he's thinking about the restrictions Manning's got on his 'outdoor privileges'.
They'll be gone soon enough, I hope. If the Secretary doesn't come through for us, I'll… I don't know what I'll do, but it won't be pleasant.
The truck comes to a stop and we pile out into the garage. Ellis's phone goes off and he motions for us to go on without him. I half listen to his conversation as he saunters off, "Who won't let you in?" He pauses, "Really, okay. I'll see what I can do."
It's probably best if he doesn't come with us; he's got a long list of reasons Manning could use to fire him. Not that he knows about any of them, I think. Manning will be waiting in the conference room. As we head that direction, I spot 'Scout wringing his hands. I reach over and snag them so he'll quit.
"It's okay," I tell him.
He takes a step to the side and leans on me while we walk. I wrap my arm around him. His muscles are strung pretty tight; I can feel his tension under my hand. He's more nervous than I thought.
"What if he…" John starts, not finding the words to finish.
"I won't let him," I say firmly and stick a cigar in my mouth. "He's got to be an idiot to pull that stunt twice. Besides, you're a wolf 'Scout, are you going to let him rule your life?"
His expression clears up slowly and he actually smiles, "You're right."
"Damn right I'm right," I pull my arm away to light the cigar, taking a long drag.
He rolls his eyes at my sarcasm, or the repetitiveness of that sentence. Either way, at least he's not as freaked out. Manning's like a wild animal; he can smell fear and will play off of it. Which is why he yells at people all the time, he wants us to be scared so that he can feel like he's in control. Not that any of us except Myers is scared of him. Hopefully we can break him of that.
Liz looks back at us from her position at the head of the pack, "John, you're our family. If Manning thinks he's going to separate you from us again, he's got another thing coming."
"Agreed," Blue adds.
John's smile grows, as does his confidence, but he still lets the rest of us enter the conference room first. I think my grin should have given it away that we'd done something, but Manning is starting his usually routine before he spots John. His mouth falls open and his face gets red instantly, a vein jumping off his forehead.
"What the hell are you doing back here?"
I was kind of expecting some mumbled response from Boyscout, but he's bold when he answers, "I'm an agent here, remember?" He's got a no nonsense, 'don't fuck with me' tone of voice.
Way to go, kid.
Manning comes around the table, looking about ready to tear John's face off. I puff up a little and put my hand on the Samaritan. Liz's fingers start to glow. Manning gets the picture and stops his approach just short of arm's reach.
"You aren't staying. I will not deal with you in my bureau, that's why you were transferred," he threatens, shaking a finger at 'Scout. "You're getting on the first plane out of here."
Boyscout curls his lip, "I'm not going anywhere. This is my home."
"This is a branch of the FBI, not a dog daycare! You've already shown that you can't be professional, and I will not permit your recent behavior to-"
"You are so full of shit, Manning! You know 'Scout's one of the best agents you've got. You're just afraid of what he's become," I shout at him. I was going to let John stand up to him, but he's just pushing my buttons.
Where the hell is our back-up? I thought the Secretary of Defense was going to come kick Manning's ass. I hope he's not way the hell over in Washington, 'cause I might have to kick Manning's ass myself if he takes too long to get over here. I might do it anyway.
"Look, I'm willing to make a deal with you. We don't have to be unreasonable about all this," 'Scout tries to be the nice one in this situation. I doubt it'll help. Manning passed the 'reasonable' stage about the time he used tranquilizers on me.
"I don't make deals with freaks! You're a menace and I want you gone."
'Scout's eyes flare bright yellow and his hands curl into tight fists. Fear flashes across Manning's face, he drops back a step. I think John really might haul off and deck him, but he keeps his cool, "When did I make you think I was a threat? What did I do?"
"You've got an attitude like him," he motions at me, "You're both unpredictable."
"They wouldn't act out against you if you weren't such an asshole all the time," Liz says bluntly, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Yeah, not to mention that 'Scout's only got a fraction of my attitude."
I thought Blue would stay silent through this entire argument, but he cuts in with his usual information tidbit, "And that was only because they've mated. Otherwise, John wouldn't have any kind of attitude."
'Scout opens his mouth like he might argue that fact, then shakes his head and lets it go. He knows full well that Blue is right, he couldn't argue his way out of a paper bag before we slept together. He's gotten a bit more confrontational since then, what with him nearly hitting Manning on multiple occasions, but he's definitely not as bad as me.
Manning snaps, a few more veins coming up on his face, "I'm in charge here! What I say goes, so shut up all of you! He's getting on a plane tomorrow!" Now would be a great time for him to die from a heart attack, because if I get my hands on him, his death will be a lot slower.
I move between 'Scout and Manning, ready to beat the hell out of Manning if he tries anything. Before I can start yelling at him, Liz makes a threat that brings him down to size.
"If John goes, we all go."
The blood rushes out of Manning's face when her words hit home. It's probably never crossed his mind that we could do that. If we all walk out, his bureau will be completely useless. It doesn't matter that the only ones who could have a normal life are John and Liz, because the threat is still real.
My tail twists contently at his lack of a response. Chew on that you bastard.
John tilts his head to the side and glances towards the door. A couple seconds after his ears catch it, I hear two voices getting closer.
"I'll have you know that you pulled me off the seventh hole of my golf game with the president."
"I'm sorry sir, but it has to be now," that's definitely Ellis, so he's got the Secretary with him.
"They sound like they're about to kill each other in there."
"They probably are."
Ellis and the Secretary come around the corner and into the conference room, Ellis grinning like the cat that ate the canary. He doesn't look like he's getting a smidge of contentment out of this, again with the sarcasm. Funny that it only took a week working with us for him to take our side.
Just the look on Manning's face when he sees the Secretary of Defense is well worth all the shit we've had to endure. That and 'Scout's look of shock. There was no way he could have seen this coming.
John tugs on my sleeve, "Is that the…"
"Yeah 'Scout, that's him."
I'm glad Ellis pulled him out of his golf game, because Allen is a little more ticked at Manning than he might have been on a regular day. Actually, I don't know him too well, so maybe he would've been this pissed anyway. He starts chewing up Manning's ass immediately. I sit back and enjoy the show, grinning from ear to ear.
"Tom, it has come to my attention that your work in the BPRD has tread on a lot of toes and made a lot of people angry. These…" Allen falters, motioning at us, but failing to find a word to describe us. He settles on, "Guys and gals are our first and only line of defense against the supernatural and I have heard, first person, that several of them want to quit, citing your behavior as the reason."
Manning tries desperately to redeem himself, to prove he'd done some good, "But I brought this bureau up from nothing. I made it what it is today! You have no idea how hard it is to keep these freaks in line."
"You lying son of a bitch! My father made this bureau what it is. You just stole the credit!" the only thing keeping me from smashing him flat is John's hand on my arm.
Allen doesn't let it slide, "You may have improved something in the bureau, but the absurdly long list of grievances that have been filed against you far outweigh anything positive. You've broken a number of policies, mostly concerning an agent named John."
The Secretary scans us, his eyes settling on 'Scout. John nods to him, still completely dumbfounded by what's going on, "That's me."
"I assumed as much."
Manning turns his rage onto John, "You did this? Why you little-"
"No, I did," Ellis shouts from the door. "You could fire me, but I think you're about to lose your authority."
The wolf guy- Wait, what the hell is he doing here? I thought he was in England! I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. Anyway, he slips around Ellis and comes up next to John, completely ignoring the Secretary chewing our director a new one.
"How are you feeling John? Better I hope."
'Scout looks at him with wide eyes, probably on data overload, "What are you doing here?"
Dr. Andrews barrels through his question, checking 'Scout's eyes and ears, "You haven't been having any problems since you've been reacquainted with your mate, have you?"
John turns from the Doc to the argument (which is now Manning ordered into silence while Allen lists the grievances against him) then back to the Doc, "Can this wait ten minutes?"
I lean over, "We've been dying to see this bastard get what he deserves."
Dr. Andrews nods with a drawn out, 'oh'. "Very well then." He sits at the conference table to wait. 'Scout'll answer a whole list of question for him a minute, but this is just too good to not watch.
The Secretary is starting to draw to a close, concluding with how disappointed he is with Manning's work.
"How did you get him to come here?" Myers asks in a whisper.
"I didn't, Ellis went to him about everything that's been going on and got him to interview us about it."
Allen finally gets to the REALLY good stuff, "For this kind of behavior, I have no option but to discharge you from the bureau-"
Manning cuts into his final statement, in a desperate attempt to save his job, "Who else could you possibly find to keep this place running? There's no one with my kind of experience available! These freaks walk all over someone new and you'll just end up with rampant chaos in this facility!"
I know we call ourselves freaks, but it's starting to really piss me off coming from him. When he says it, it's an insult.
He's got a point though (as much as I despise the fact that Manning could be right about anything) who is Allen going to bring in to run this place? I really hope it's not some tough-as-nails drill sergeant kind of guy, 'cause there no way we'll get along with him. He'd better not be worse than Manning, but I don't think too many people could be worse than Manning. As long as we're treated like people instead of attack dogs, I think anyone else would be an improvement.
"I've already lined up your replacement, brought him out of retirement for this. He's got twice the experience you do with supernatural phenomena and left the bureau to study…" Allen glances over at Dr. Andrews, "What was it Sean, werewolves?"
"It was, Allen. The finest breeds are found in Europe, so I couldn't continue my work here," the Doc comments from his place at the table. "But I'm honored to join this team."
Dr. Wolf Guy is Manning's replacement? What? I didn't even know he worked for the bureau! Everyone else has the same shocked look as me, so I guess I didn't miss a crucial piece of information or anything. Except Abe, there's no questioning that he knew about this.
John is the first to break out of the stupefied trance that seems to have taken over the room, "You didn't tell me that you used to work for the FBI."
"Well, I retired nearly a decade ago from the western division of this bureau. You'll have to forgive me, but it really didn't cross my mind," the Doc answers easily, with a smile. "But, back to my question earlier, are you feeling better?"
'Scout nods, "Things are getting better all the time."
"There's no way you'll be able to handle this," Manning snarls, "You'll be gone in a week, tops."
Allen shoots a very nasty 'shut the fuck up' look at Manning, "Get your things packed and get out of here. The bureau will send you the formal papers through the mail."
He heads for the door, grumbling, cursing, and giving everyone one last glare. I let him get to the hall before I yell, "Hey Manning."
He turns as I come out of the conference room after him ('Scout on my heels like he could stop me). "What?" Manning snaps.
I smash my left fist across his jaw, not hard enough to break any bones, but enough to make me feel better. It's for the shit he's put me and 'Scout through. That, and I've really, REALLY wanted to do that for years. I stand over him, topping it off with a simple, "Bye."
He lands on one knee and a hand, rubbing his jaw. After a second, he makes a face and pulls out a tooth I jarred loose. He gets to his feet, furious, "Why you dirty son of-"
Manning doesn't get any farther into that sentence, 'Scout punches him on the other side of his face. The hit doesn't knock him to the floor, but he'll be nursing a split lip for the next couple of days. I stare at 'Scout, wondering where the hell that came from.
"Don't talk to my mate like that," John orders firmly, adding once he has Manning's undivided attention, "And I'm not a dog, I'm a wolf."
"Way to go, John," Ellis crows from the door, laughing.
Manning doesn't have anything to say. He's probably in too much shock that John would actually hit him to think up a comeback. When he turns away from us and walks down the hall, 'Scout rubs his hand.
"Ow," he mutters, a blush forming on his face.
I take his sore hand and bring it to my lips. His blush gets ten times worse. "I can't believe you actually hit him."
John winces when I rub my thumb over his knuckles, "I can't either."
"But he did deserve it."
I get an eye roll for that. John raises an eyebrow and presses up against me, winding his arms around my neck, "You know, not everything can be solved with violence."
"Yeah, but it's always worked well for me," I murmur as I lean down to kiss him.
We're pretty deep in a game of tonsil hockey when somebody clears their throat. I start off with a glare for the interruption before I realize that it was the Secretary trying to get our attention. 'Scout disentangles himself from me so he can salute. I doubt the kid could get any more embarrassed without having a nervous breakdown of some kind. His face is about my shade of red.
The Secretary looks between us slowly and I realize that he could have a problem with our relationship. It's none of his fucking business, but what if he decides to act on it? There's no way I'm letting anyone else stand between us. I brace myself for some kind of nasty reaction, my hand resting on the small of 'Scout's back.
"I suppose this explains your anger with the situation," Allen says simply, folding his hands behind his back. "Try not to hit any directors in the future, ex or otherwise."
Well, at least he didn't say anything about me and 'Scout being together, but I don't know if I can make that kind of promise. What if another director makes me mad, or I see Manning again? I just might need to punch somebody's lights out.
"That shouldn't be a problem," Myers says obediently, giving my ribs a nudge with I don't follow his example.
I sigh and jump on the bandwagon, "Yeah, okay."
"Good. Well, I need to get back, but you let me know if you need anything. I'll be looking in on this bureau from time to time to see how things are going."
Ellis perks up just before the Secretary leaves, "Oh, and tell the president that we're sorry we interrupted his game of golf."
Allen dismisses him with a wave and a chuckle, "He's probably thanking you. He doesn't actually like golf, thinks it's boring as hell." He disappears down the same hall that Manning went down, hopefully to make sure he's packing up his office. Either that or he doesn't know how to get out of here. If it's the latter, we'll see him in a few minutes, 'cause the lift is the other direction.
'Scout smiles at Ellis when it's all said and done, "Thanks, for everything. You can stay."
I laugh at his turn of phrase, mostly 'cause it was exactly what I said to him and that Ellis still doesn't get what we mean by it. He frowns and tilts his head, the question clear as day on his face.
I cut him a break, "We like you, so we want you to stick around."
The realization finally dawns on him (he's really not the brightest crayon in the box, but at least he's friendly), "Oh, why didn't you just say so?"
'Scout and I laugh.
God, it's good for everything to be back to normal.
- John
It's been almost two weeks since Manning got fired and Dr. Andrews is settling in here quite nicely. He and Abe have long conversations about literature and poetry on a very regular basis, which I know Abe is thrilled about. He's always looking for someone to have meaningful conversations with.
Andrews's books on lycanthropy arrived from England several days ago, along with a folded up drawing from Eon. The picture depicted everyone from the BPRD and the Society (most of us were stick-figures save Red and Torque, who were bulked out blocks of color) standing together on what I think might be the dead wyrm. It was cute, in a slightly morbid way. I put it up on the wall to remind me of her.
One of the other things that has changed is me moving into HB's room. It's kind of weird to share a space with someone, since I've lived alone since I moved out of my uncle's house after high school. As weird as it is, it's also very nice. I'm enjoying waking up with Red's arms wrapped around me instead of an empty bed.
We've had a few tiny arguments about the way the space should be kept, since I'm a neat freak and he doesn't really care what state his room is in. We eventually agreed that I would be allowed to keep things cleaner than he wanted them, as long as I didn't organize any of his stuff, (since he can never find it after I 'organize' it.) It worked out just fine.
The only other alterations to his space involved making room for my clothes in his closet and replacing his chair with a couch so we could both watch TV on it. We tried to share the overstuffed chair for the first few days, but it always seemed to end in sex. Not that that's bad, but it did make watching the news rather difficult.
What's truly amazing is that the door hasn't been locked behind us a single day. I went out with Liz on Thursday and had dinner without anyone blinking. It's nice to feel like a human being again, even if I'm not one. Dr. Andrews even said that HB could go out, as long as he was careful. We've taken advantage of that a few times, but mostly, we just stay home.
That's where we are now. He's sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table I finally convinced him we needed, and I'm sprawled out with my head on his leg. We've got three TVs on, one with cartoons, another with some action flick Red's seen half a dozen times, and the last with the news. You can bet that I'm the only one watching that one.
We've only had one assignment since we got home, but Red doesn't act like he's bored. I think he's pretty content to just hang out right now, since we had so much packed into one week. I'm with him on that. I think we've earned some time to relax. It's nice not to have any paperwork to do.
I'm trying real hard to pay attention to the world report, but his hand is absently sliding through my hair. It's putting me to sleep. I could drift off, it's not like we have anything else to do today…
My ears perk at a tiny sound, so tiny I think I may have imagined it. Except it comes again, a little louder. I sit up, tilting my head to catch it better, "I think someone's knocking."
"Who knocks?" HB asks, not taking his eyes of his action film.
"I don't know." I get up and go to the door. I hear the minuscule tapping again just before I can disengage the latch. "Hang on, I'm coming."
I try to ignore Red's comment, "There are more fun ways to cum."
"Pervert," I say as I push open the ridiculously heavy door. Even on super-greased gliding hinges, this thing does not want to move.
At first, I don't see anyone or anything in the hall, but it was just because I was looking a little too high. I glance down when another body tackles my waist and find the greatest surprise, "Eon!"
She grins up at me, waving hello. I grab her into a hug and give her a squeeze. I didn't get to spend nearly enough time with her during our farewell, and I'm not going to let her go until I'm good and ready this time. When my excitement passes, I begin to wonder about the how and why. There's no way she got here by herself, even with her superior intellect. She's way too young to just hop a flight to New Jersey so she could drop in on us.
Off to my right, the cats suddenly flee the area. It can only mean one thing (since they seem less inclined to treat me like the plague now). I narrow my eyes and spot the section of air that just doesn't look right.
"Rex, don't you dare eat the cats," I yell at him.
He fluctuates into visibility and hangs his head. Despite being scolded, he still grabs the nearest cat and licks it from one end to the other. It yowls unhappily until HB rescues it. He grabs Rex by what passes as a scruff and glares at him.
"Are the others with you?" I ask, shifting Eon so I can hold her against my hip.
She nods, her auburn curls bouncing like tightly coiled springs, and points down the hall. I don't see them yet, but I can hear Lazarus commenting on our 'digs'. He seems impressed. I don't really have a better word for it, but glee floods my senses. I wasn't ready to let the Society go.
I shoot a grin over my shoulder at HB. He catches my contagious smile, "Go on." It's all the incentive I need to bolt down the hall. Red will catch up.
I grab onto the first person I get to (which happens to be Yvette, but I can only hope that she won't kill me for it) and pull her against me, "I missed you guys!"
To my relief, she doesn't suck the life out of me, "We missed you too wolf boy, and Dr. Andrews."
"You stole him from us, you cheeky-" Lazarus stops himself just before the curse escapes his mouth. Even in jest, he doesn't want to say it in front of Eon. I don't think it would matter too much; I'm sure she picks up more from the television than she does from any of us. She only has to hear something once before she knows it. "Well, you stole him from us."
"But he made everything right here, right?" Torque asks in his molasses voice.
I think the word 'right' wouldn't be giving Dr. Andrews enough credit for what he's done for us. He's made everything phenomenal, or amazing, or wonderful, not just right. I mean, that too, but things haven't been this perfect since before HB's dad left us. Having worked under him (very briefly) and seen the downturn the bureau took after his death, I recognized the difference.
"He's made everything… perfect."
Lazarus drapes his arm over my shoulders, smiling at me, "Then I guess we'll let you keep him. But we need to be able to borrow him from time to time."
"That's fair."
Eon tugs on my shirt for my attention, signing at me once she has it, 'Is Blue here?'
"Of course he is. He's probably in the library," I tell her.
Her green eyes get to be about the size of dinner plates, no exaggerating. 'You have a library here?'
I think about her meager collection of books that the Society had managed to provide to her. Didn't Lazarus tell me that she'd read them all at least a dozen times? I suppose a library the size of the one Professor Bruttenholm collected over his lifetime would be a treasure trove to her. It could keep her occupied for weeks, no… considering how fast her brain works; I'd say it would keep her occupied for a few days, tops. Either way, she'll be extremely excited.
"We do, would you like me to show you?"
Her nod is so vigorous that her curls hit everything in their vicinity.
"Alright." I look at the rest of the team, "Make yourselves at home."
The moment we enter the library, Eon wants down. Her excitement is visible in the way she bounces on her toes, the way she runs her tiny fingers over the tomes she can reach. I've never seen a child so excited about books. She peers at me, her question so obvious that she doesn't have to make a single sign at me.
"You're more than welcome to read any of them, just be careful."
With permission given, she starts pulling a book off the shelf that has to weigh as much as she does. I rush over to help her get it from the shelf to the desk. She climbs into the chair and starts pouring over the book, her feet swinging back and forth like any child having a good day.
Out of pure curiosity, I check the contents: a grimoire from the 16th century, rewritten in French some several hundred years later. Blue has used this one on several occasions. I briefly debate whether she's just looking at the pictures, or if she actually knows French, but there's a good chance she picked up the language somewhere.
"It appears that we have guests," Blue says from the door.
Eon's head snaps up from the book and she signs, 'You live in a library?'
Before I can even wonder how she knew that, she points over at the tank. It's an astute observation, something I wouldn't put past her.
Blue answers her in sign, which makes her smile grow, 'I do. I could think of no better place to reside.'
I want to go check on the others, but I don't want to just leave Abe with a babysitting gig if he's not inclined to stay with her. I know she'll be careful in here, but the grimoire nearly squished her not two minutes ago. She's just a bit overzealous with the books.
He inclines his head towards me, just slightly, and I know his answer. He'll be more than happy to. I kiss the top of Eon's head and leave her to pick Abe's brain, and likewise. Knowing the two of them the way I do, it could be a very long session.
My hunt for the other members of the Society leaves me at the door to Liz's room. She and Yvette are sitting on the edge of the bed, talking about something that stops the second I enter. They both look at me with the classic girl expression that says I've interrupted something not meant for my ears.
"Girl stuff?" I ask, just to make sure.
"Da," Yvette answers as she puts a fresh cigarette in her mouth. "Girl stuff."
Liz holds out a lit finger to get the cigarette started, "But it's not about you."
"You're a guy, you don't need to hear it," Yvette adds.
I lean in the doorframe, marveling at how quickly they became friends. I do wonder if has anything to do with the fact that they're the only women on their respective teams. Maybe it gives them some kind of kindred spirit. Although, it could just be that they're women and estrogen always brings them together to rat on men.
"If I'm gay, do I count as a guy?"
They exchange looks, but no words, still coming to the same answer.
"You still count," they say in unison.
I laugh and back out, leaving them to their 'man bashing'.
It takes me a bit longer to find Torque and Lazarus. They're in the kitchen (not all that shocking). Red's with them, and he and Torque are sitting on opposite sides of the table, a stack of Twinkie boxes beside each of them. As far as I can tell, they're having an eating contest and Lazarus is the referee.
They may both get sick as dogs, but I'm going to let them have their fun. There's not much I could do to stop them anyway. I take a seat against the wall to watch the 'game'.
Hellboy slams down his first empty box with a triumphant grin, "You'll never catch me."
His cocky smile fades as Torque eats four of the spongy, confectionary treats in one go. I think the major thing Torque's got going for him is the fact that his mouth is bigger. Red compensates by digging into the next box with twice the fervor.
Lazarus has taken on an announcer voice and is just narrating the match with an obvious bias towards Torque, "And Hellboy has fallen behind by a box and a half; things are not going so well for the red demon!"
HB points a stone finger at him, yelling around his mouthful of snack cake, "Shut up, Crispy."
He doesn't lose well.
I smile at my family's antics. That's really what they've become, one big, weird family. They're probably the weirdest family I've ever known and ever will ever know. I've been through a lot with them. Somewhere between being an agent and becoming a freak, I learned what it was like to be loved.
As cheesy as that may sound, it's true. You never know real love until someone can look you in the eye, knowing what you are and what you're capable of, and still accept you with open arms. No matter whether I'm a freak, a person, a lover, or a friend, I still belong to this mismatched patchwork of a family.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
The alarm goes off, signaling a paranormal emergency. HB pushes aside the eating contest in favor of checking his ammo supply in the Good Samaritan. He looks over at Torque and Lazarus, a grin on his face, "Wanna' go out and play?"
xxxxxxxxxxxx
End
So, I wanted to thank everyone that stuck with me through this story and those of you that left wonderful reviews time and again. I hope you liked how things turned out.
If any of you are interested in reading more about the Society and their story, I'm hoping to start posting the comics on my page at Deviant Art. The link is available through my author page on Fan Fiction and Adult Fan Fiction.
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