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Living Stone
By : AceMaxwell
Category: G through L > Hellboy
Views: 4868 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellboy and I make no money off this fiction.
Chapter List
- 11
- 12
Last one! As always, I'm impatient, so it's not betad. Mistakes are mine and can be fixed if you point them out. Enjoy!

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"You'll get your own room, but I wouldn't expect to spend many nights there," Hellboy joked, his grin getting wider when John actually blushed.

"I'll keep that in mind."

They were sauntering down one of the BPRD hallways towards Manning's office. After he'd patched up the kid's hurts and his own scratches, Hellboy had called his boss on the plane to check in. Manning told him to report in immediately upon landing. There would probably be some shouting, since Hellboy did drag a new recruit headlong into a dangerous situation. It wouldn't be anything Hellboy hadn't heard before. The kid had done exceptionally well and they'd learned a lot about his abilities as a result of his involvement. Manning wouldn't see it that way for the first ten or twenty minutes, but he'd come around eventually.

"I guess I won't be out in the field for a while," John stated, the real question hanging clearly at the end, but for how long?

Hellboy took a turn that lead them past rows of black and white photographs. They were of teams long dead and gone and a few of Hellboy's history with the bureau. John paused to look at one of Hellboy shaking President Reagan's hand.

"You'll have to go into training, but the speed of your certification really depends on you. If you fly through training, you could be ready for duty in as little as two months."

John didn't look away from the photograph as he claimed, "I'll do it in one."

Hellboy snorted, "Yeah, we'll see."

John's glare wasn't serious, "You doubt I can?"

"Knowing how stubborn you are, not really." Hellboy knew it wasn't the mental aptitude tests John would have a problem with, it was the physical training that kicked everyone's ass. The kid would figure that out pretty quickly. "Come on, the boss doesn't like to be kept waiting."

John hurried to catch up. When they entered Manning's office, there was a second man standing in front of the desk. Manning looked up at them with a stern expression he wore more often than not, his bald head shining in the florescent lighting. Hellboy wasn't familiar with the other man. He was round and pleasant with small, square frame glasses perched above his warm smile. He had a full head of dark hair that could've been the reason for Manning's scowl, and a very nice wool suit. Hellboy didn't usually see that kind of quality stalking around the bureau, not even on the bigwigs like Manning.

Beside him, John froze. The kid's hands went to Hellboy's arm. Subconsciously, Hellboy touched the handle of his gun in response.

Manning rose to greet them, introducing his guest, "Hellboy, this is Dr. Charles Flemming. He and I have been discussing John's file."

Hellboy's eyes flicked down to the kid's panicked expression. John was gripping Hellboy's arm so fiercely that his fingers were turning white to match the bandage on his hand. It was enough to leave a bruise on a normal human. Hellboy could smell his fear, so much more extreme than when they faced the Fay courts and all the monsters England could come up with.

The doctor took off his glasses and pulled a handkerchief from the inside pocket of his jacket, polishing the surface meticulously, "Of the patients that have gotten out in the past twenty-six years, you, Thaddeus, have been the most difficult to track down."

Understanding crashed through Hellboy like a freight train that jumped its tracks. Manning had done some research when John's medical file hit his desk and had discovered a lot more than Hellboy had bargained for. He'd hoped to have some time to explain everything to Manning before it came to this.

Hellboy put his arm in front of John, gently pushing the kid back so he was standing behind him. "Wait a minute, Manning. You don't have all the-"

He didn't get a chance to finish. John bolted. Cussing, Hellboy followed him out into the hall. The kid was already past the photos, sprinting faster than Hellboy even thought he was capable of. Behind him, Manning was yelling at Hellboy to come back into the office and the doctor was talking quietly into a handheld radio.

A half a second after the person on the other end responded, two men in white scrubs darted into John's path. One came in low to take out his knees, but the kid jumped over him. The other hit him in the chest with an outstretched arm. John hit the floor on his side. Hellboy ran towards the men as they wrestled John to the ground.

"Let him go!" he roared at them.

John landed a solid hit to one orderly's nose with a sharp crack, sending blood gushing down the man's face. As he tried to crawl away, the other grabbed his arms and hauled him to his feet. John thrashed and screamed like a trapped animal. Hellboy was half expecting one of the men to drop dead with blood streaming out of their ears and eyes, but John didn't lash out at them like that.

"Hellboy!" John cried, his desperate gaze falling on Hellboy.

A calm, even voice shouted over the noise, catching Hellboy's attention, "He killed his mother, did he tell you that?"

Hellboy stopped so quickly that he nearly fell over his hooves. He turned to the doctor. Dr. Flemming was walking towards the conflict, Manning right behind him. Hellboy could only blink, the statement bouncing around his head with disbelief and caution and shock.

"What?" Hellboy asked quietly.

John savagely pulled at the hands holding him, nearly pulling the orderly over. The one with the nosebleed took one of his arms and smeared red across John's sleeve.

"I had to, Hellboy. Please, listen to me," John's voice cracked as tears brimmed along his eyes. "I had to."

"Wildly delusional and extremely violent do not go well with an IQ as high as Mr. Richter here posses. He's too dangerous to be outside of a state facility until-"

Hellboy pointed at the doctor, "Shut up," and turned his attention to Manning. "Look, Liz leveled a city block with her power before she was brought to us, you've got to reconsider-"

"He didn't kill her with his abilities, he pushed her down some stairs, Hellboy. Dr. Flemming and I agree that he needs to continue his rehabilitation," Manning said flatly, in a tone that warned against argument.

They both knew that wasn't going to happen.

"But she was abusing him. You can hardly fault him for wanting to protect-"

The doctor cut in, making Hellboy bristle, "Thaddeus is self-destructive, actually, and extremely manipulative. His mother was a fine example within the community, going to PTA meetings and running bake sales and doing charity work. Her psychological profile did not fit the alleged abuse that Thaddeus had CPS called out to the house for on multiple occasions. I fear it was a way for him to act out because-"

John shook his head violently, his eyes still locked on Hellboy, "That's not true, it's not! Don't let them take me back there, please! Hellboy!"

Hellboy's brow furrowed deeply. He felt as if he had a mound of puzzle pieces, but somebody had taken all the edge pieces out of the box. He didn't know how to begin to try and organize everything so it made sense. How many times had the kid lied to him? How many times had he used what Hellboy was thinking to tell him exactly what he wanted to hear? Hellboy drew his thoughts out of the open and back into the recesses of his mind where John couldn't get to them.

John's tears started falling. He whispered, "No, please," even as the doctor gave the order to take him to the van.

Hellboy's stomach churned to the point that he felt like finding the nearest trashcan and retching into it. Instead, he watched the orderlies drag Thaddeus Richter away. The boy's eyes seemed even older than they did when Hellboy had met him, peering at him with as much pain and sorrow as a man four times his age. It didn't feel right to Hellboy.

"You know there's more to this than that doctor can tell you," Hellboy growled at Manning.

The director's mouth thinned until it was little more than a white line, "We've had hundreds of agents come and go over the past few years. Some have died truly violent deaths, and yet you didn't even look up from your work. Why does it matter to you that I've decided to return a violent psychiatric patient to his doctor?"

"Because that's not who John is."

Manning turned, something verging on anger crossing face, "The boy is a compulsive liar and has a laundry list of fake identities. You have no idea who he is."

Hellboy's stomach rolled again. He was excellent at reading people, so how had he gone so wrong with this one? He wondered if he was really that distracted by wanting to be sexually involved with the boy that he'd missed every tell the kid had. He didn't want to believe it.

Pulling a cigarette out of the pack in his jacket, Hellboy took the light Manning offered and started to trudge towards his rooms. He hadn't taken three steps when something occurred to him.

"If he inflicted all those wounds himself, how did he get them in the middle of his back?" Hellboy asked out loud, looking at Manning and challenging him to find a good answer.

Manning was silent for precious seconds before he finally said, "You bring me proof and we'll talk."

Hellboy didn't stick around for Manning to change his mind. He ran through the bureau, dodging around startled agents as he sprinted for the front of the building. One of the people he nearly knocked over was Kate Corrigan. Though she was bruised and had her right arm in a sling, she seemed to be intact.

Hellboy ran backwards so he could talk to her and keep moving, "What happened to you being in the ICU?"

She trailed after him, confusion pressing wrinkles between her eyebrows, "That was only one night. Where are you going?"

"A night in the ICU and you're already cleared for duty?"

He was getting far enough away that she had to shout, "Desk duty. Where are you going?"

Hellboy turned around and kept running, "To save John from having to be Thaddeus the rest of his life."

"What?"

Hellboy knew without looking that Kate was following at his heels. She was curious by nature and would never leave a question unanswered, especially one as puzzling as what Hellboy had left her with. She had too few facts to come up with a reasonable explanation.

By the time Hellboy caught up with John and the orderlies, they were walking down the front steps to a van marked Pine Bluff State Psychiatric Hospital. It was all white with plain green text and metal grating welded across the windows. Parked in front of the van was a slick, black Jaguar that had to belong to the doctor. He went to the passenger side of the car, coming back with a needle and vial. Hellboy didn't need to guess what was in it.

John wasn't fighting them anymore, but was barely picking up his feet as they dragged him toward the van. All of the boldness and audacity was gone, leaving a beaten shell of a boy that Hellboy didn't know, but wanted to. He wanted to know every aspect of John, every face he'd hidden behind, every reality that he'd deemed too dangerous to expose. He wanted to know the kid for who he was. If that meant taking the good with the bad, then Hellboy figured he was prepared to do that. He'd had a taste of something more than he was used to and didn't want to lose it, it was like going back to drugstore cigars after he'd had his first real Cuban.

Dr. Flemming still had the needle buried in the sedative vial when Hellboy approached them. He tried to keep the lid in the corner of his mouth when he talked, but it clattered to the cement with the first word, "I'm sure your director can explain everything more thoroughly, I've left him with all the files-"

Hellboy started to tell him off, but then he heard the click of hooves. For a moment, he thought it was his mind playing tricks after a long mission, until he saw the kelpie come across the parking lot at a gallop with Chloe screaming on his back.

"Get out of here!" he shouted at the doctor, shoving at the orderlies. "Go, go now!"

They scattered like roaches, but Hellboy didn't blame them. If it was just a crazy woman on a horse, they might even have some idea of what to do about her. But when the woman had spiked wings like layers of thorns and skin the color of ash and war paint that looked distinctly like blood, it was out of their league. The front half of her father's skull with its melted crown was fastened to her face as a grisly mask, her burning green eyes showing through his eye orbits as if they belonged there. The kelpie was foaming at the mouth, his body a slick of sweat that made every line of his powerful muscles gleam.

Hellboy drew his gun and spread his stance so he was ready for her. He heard the door slam when Kate hurried inside, but didn't lose his focus. Chloe was on him in moments, the kelpie rearing up with a scream as Hellboy tried to deck him. One hoof grazed Hellboy's shoulder. He ducked under the animal's flailing legs and the kelpie slammed to all fours.

Chloe lifted the knight's sword above her head. She'd somehow found the time to have it reforged before she'd appeared in America, something she had to have done in a Fay court, she wouldn't have had time otherwise.

Pushing her father's skull so it tilted back over her flaming, red hair, Chloe regarded Hellboy with disdain. She was clad in boiled leather armor carved with intricate symbols. A white fur cape hung loosely beneath her wings, leaving her back bare save the blood paint that she had smeared on every available piece of skin.

She curled her lip with a snarl, "You will die first, Demon of England, and then I will make your lands the new Shade Court."

"I'll believe that when I see it. Good luck telling McDonalds to take a hike," Hellboy joked easily and whipped his gun between them.

He squeezed the trigger. The hammer clicked, but nothing happened. Hellboy cursed as he remembered that he'd used up all his ammo on the mission. He'd never gotten the chance to refill it. Chloe's blade dove through his confusion, catching him in the chest and flaying open his jacket and one of his pectorals. When he fell, the kelpie leapt forward to try and crush him beneath its hooves.

Hellboy rolled out of the way. Blotches of deep red stained the concrete behind him. The kelpie's hooves sent up sparks as he pawed the ground and charged after Hellboy.

One of the orderlies and the doctor huddled near the Jaguar, watching the fight as though they couldn't turn away. Hellboy didn't see the orderly with the broken nose or John, he could only hope that the kid wasn't planning to do something stupid, like jump in the middle of the fight.

Waiting until the kelpie was close enough to take a snap at his shoulder, Hellboy whirled and slammed his stone fist into the creature's head. The horse reeled and Chloe had to grip his mane with both hands to stay on. As it stumbled, the kelpie turned away from Hellboy as though it was retreating, but kicked Hellboy in the middle of his stomach with both back feet.

The blow knocked the wind out of Hellboy, sending him flying across the bureau's steps. He landed on the Jaguar. The car exploded with fragments of glass and plastic, sending the medical professionals scurrying for better cover. Hellboy took in a gasp of air and reached to probe his stomach gently with two fingers. He felt like his insides had been liquefied, which was possible with as much force as the kelpie had delivered.

"Damn," Hellboy groaned while he climbed out of the bent mess of metal.

Mildly surprised that Dr. Flemming wasn't having a complete freak out over his Jaguar, Hellboy grabbed a piece of the car's frame and wrenched it free. Hellboy brandished the makeshift weapon and shouted, "Come on!"

Chloe stayed where she was. Her wings lifted and stretched, spreading the spines out into overlapping arcs that covered every inch of the surface. Her eyes clouded with darkness, and so did the sky. She pulled her father's skull over her face, covering a wicked smile.

Thunder boomed overhead and thick, roiling clouds enveloped the sky. Lightning danced across the surface of the clouds, flashing to earth every few seconds. The wind came out of nowhere and tore through the parking lots hard enough to shake the cars. Several alarms went off, the cars' lights flashing like fireflies in the gathering darkness.

The kelpie whickered nervously and Chloe stilled him with a soft touch to his neck. Not waiting for Chloe to pull out the rest of her tricks, Hellboy attacked. His rent piece of car frame clashed against her sword, both pieces of metal singing a very old ballad of war and bloodshed. They exchanged blows back and forth. Being on the kelpie gave Chloe the advantage, leaving Hellboy on the defensive as he tried to deflect numerous attacks from landing on his head.

A streak of lightning struck one of the cars in the parking lot, tossing the suburban into the air like a matchbox car. It landed on a little hybrid Ford that pancaked under its weight. Before Hellboy could even try and figure out who they belonged to, another bolt came down in the circle drive, close enough that Hellboy could feel the heat. It left a massive, smoking crater in its wake.

Chloe squeezed the kelpie's sides with her legs and the animal cantered away. The hair on the back of Hellboy's neck stood on end as the air around him took on an electric charge. With a shout, Hellboy dove out of the way. The next strike hit within a foot of him, sending cement shrapnel flying in every direction. The pieces pelted him like oversized BBs.

Hellboy grabbed one of the loose chunks and threw it at Chloe, but she knocked it away with one of her wings. He ran at her and another bolt of electricity slammed into the ground in front of him. Suddenly feeling like he was a duck caught in a blind, Hellboy felt the first hint of panic clenching his insides.

While Chloe chased him around with her storm, she put away the knight's sword and drew an elaborate, black wood bow off her back. She notched an arrow and let it fly. It whistled past Hellboy's ear, drawing a line of blood from the shell.

"That's not fucking fair!" Hellboy growled.

He groped blindly in his utility belt, searching for anything he could use against the Shade princess. Trinkets of a dozen different religions fell to the ground. Hellboy ducked another arrow and walked straight into the next lightning strike. His muscles seized, pain crackling through every nerve ending. It only went on for a split second, but it felt as though he was holding onto a live wire for almost an hour. He thought he screamed.

When it stopped, he was laying on his back on the cement, staring up at the storm. His flesh steamed in the cold Connecticut air. Hellboy coughed and rolled onto his side. With as badly as his muscles were shaking, he was a little surprised he was able to sit up. Chloe already had another arrow notched, aimed at his chest.

Suddenly, the kelpie buckled underneath her with a ragged scream, pitching Chloe to the ground. A thick, blue-green liquid oozed from the animal's eyes and nose as the massive creature convulsed in its death throes. Hellboy looked for John. The kid was standing on the sidewall that flanked the bureau's stairs, one hand extended towards Chloe. Before he could finish her off the same way he killed her mount, she notched an arrow and let it fly. Hellboy shouted, but the arrow struck the kid. John's face lit up with pain and he stumbled backwards off the rail, falling out of sight into the bushes.

"John!" Hellboy scrambled to his feet. "John!"

An arrow sunk into his shoulder. He ripped it out and stalked towards the Fay princess with destruction glowing from his yellow eyes. His growl was inhuman and low, his breath misting and drifting around his head like smoke. His stone fingers cracked as he curled them into a tight fist. Chloe dropped her bow in favor of her sword, fear flickering across her features.

Agents poured out of the bureau in full gear, guns held at the ready. Kate led them. Hellboy should've been relieved to have backup, but all he knew was fury. He roared when they took his kill, not flinching as the hailstorm of bullets flung Chloe's blood onto his face and chest. The Fay princess fell in tatters, her eyes fading to forest green before she made it to the ground. Above them, the storm cleared, blown away as quickly as it had formed.

Kate raised her good arm into the air, "Cease fire!"

The bureau's grounds fell into a dead silence. Dozens of agents watched Hellboy from the steps, all agents he'd worked with on one mission or another, their faces drawn with uncertainty. He stayed where he was, watching the red pool spread around Chloe's body. She'd managed to land on her back, with one hand crossed serenely over her stomach. Her father's skull lay in two pieces on the ground by her head. The blood pool touched the edge of the bone and tried to crawl up the sides in tendrils. Hellboy kicked it away.

"Hellboy?"

He didn't realize Kate had come down to him and was startled to find her right at his elbow. Her concern pushed the last of his fury away. When it faded, he remembered why he was so mad.

"John!" Hellboy shouted.

He ran to the edge of the stairs and leapt over the sidewall, shoving at the bushes frantically. The boy was nowhere to be seen, but, half buried in the mulch, was Chloe's arrow. Hellboy knelt to pick it up. Near the entrance to the bureau, he could hear Manning asking for a report. An agent Hellboy recognized as a telepath named Peter started listing off events, but another voice cut in. Hellboy had to lift his head to place it as the doctor.

"Richter is gone. Do you have any conceivable idea how long it took us to find that boy in the first place?"

Manning's response was tight and angry, "If my memory serves, you only found him because I called you."

As they argued, Hellboy gently fingered the tip of the arrow. They would search the hospitals, but Hellboy doubted he would be there. John would rather face death than go back to the psych ward, he'd proven that already. Hellboy stood and looked towards the woods that surrounded the BPRD headquarters, wondering who the kid would become this time.

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The casino in Baton Rouge was packed with bodies. Out in the slots room, young and old mingled amidst the brightly colored machines. The melodic tones of jackpots periodically cut through the crowd noise, followed by an excited crow from the winner. Other players would look up from their own spinning wheels to see who the lucky bastard was and then push a few more quarters into their machines.

A few men huddled in the sports bar, watching games they had money on. They kept their eyes glued to the flat screen televisions with such dedicated attention that they didn't notice that their beers were flat and their food was subpar. Touchdowns brought feral cries of victory from some and shouted curses from others. When the bar doors were closed, neither could be heard in the rest of the casino.

Waitresses and pit bosses moved through the crowds with practiced ease, tending to customers and watching the floor with keen eyes. Where the faded, high weave carpet ended and black, plush rugs covered hardwood flooring, the poker tables hunched in a group of three. The Texas Hold Em table in the center had a crowd clustered around it. Cards for four competitors and a pile of chips occupied the green felt surface, most of the multi-colored disks stacked in front of a young man with spiked blonde hair and expensive sunglasses. He slouched in the chair as casually as though he was watching TV at home, a slight smile curling his lips as the dealer turned over the river card.

Starting with the man who'd bet first, they turned over their hands, leaving the blonde for last. When he tossed his cards on the table, the crowd let out a gasp and began clapping. One of the players grumbled and shoved away from the table, grabbing up his last few chips before stomping off. The lithe youth leaned forward to scrape his winnings closer to himself. He stacked the chips meticulously as the dealer started the next hand.

As the blonde sat back in his chair, his eyes fell closed and he rubbed lightly on his shoulder through the fabric of his button-down. He felt the demon's presence enter the room and smirked, letting his hand drop to the table to finger the corners of his cards. The cards were low, but he wouldn't fold until he saw the flop.

Hellboy slid easily through the crowd since they parted before him with quiet sounds of astonishment. He took the seat next to the blonde and set a few hundred-dollar bills on the table. The dealer took them and gave back a variety of chips and two cards.

"This is no limit Hold Em, sir," the dealer explained as he burned the top card.

Hellboy nodded and picked up his hand, "Got'cha."

The man at the far side of the table took a long swig of his Long Island ice tea, the third he'd had since he'd sat down, grumbling, "You limit's just what you're willing to lose to this little prick." He motioned at the blonde with a wide gesture that nearly hit the middle-aged woman to his left.

She slapped his hand away with a rattle of her cheap gold bangles and said, "Speak for yourself." Her stack of chips was not as large as the blonde's was, but it was better than the drunkard's motley collection of low-end chips.

The drunk narrowed his eyes at Hellboy like he was trying to see him clearly, pointing one sausage finger at him, "Aren't you Hellboy?"

"Nah, but I get that a lot," Hellboy quipped with a chuckle that the blonde echoed.

The drunk furrowed his brow as he actually tried to process the joke and the rest of the table started placing their bets. They settled into the game, tossing chips and light cracks at each other. Hellboy glanced at the blonde after the fourth card was turned over, letting his gaze linger on the short, gelled tips of hair. It was so light it was almost white, the yellow just a tint that could've been from the spot fluorescents.

Hellboy tossed one of his fifty-dollar chips onto the table to raise the woman's bet and asked, "So, what do they call you?"

The blonde smiled and called his bet, "The winner, mostly."

"That seems a little overconfident, doesn't it?"

A pair of bright blue eyes peered at Hellboy through the sunglasses, throwing him off for a second. His thoughts stumbled and he wondered if he'd found the right man, but when the blonde took off his glasses, he realized the blue was from a pair of contacts.

"Not really," the blonde said and picked up a few chips before letting them drop one at a time back onto the stack. "But, when I'm not here, they call me David Miller."

Hellboy smirked, "And how many David Millers do you think there are in the world?"

"Well over half a million." David folded his hand before the last bet and tossed it back to the dealer, "But there's probably only one you're looking for."

The other players were regarding them with suspicion now. Clearly knowledgeable about what Hellboy did for a living, the drunk kept glancing at David, thinking very seriously about cashing out and running for his car.

David sighed and tucked his sunglasses in the collar of his shirt, "I need to cash out."

"Of course, sir. Would you like an escort?" the dealer asked crisply.

David shook his head, "Just something to carry my chips in."

When he had everything gathered in the black velvet bag the dealer had handed him, David got up from the table with Hellboy on his heels. The crowd let out its breath after they'd left, murmuring nervously. David heard them, but didn't care. He led Hellboy to the elevators and punched the call button, leaning on the wall to wait. He studied the demon but couldn't get any real thoughts from him. The demon was still very good at hiding what he didn't want seen.

David waited until they got on the elevator to ask, "Why are you here?"

The doors slid shut silently and David pressed the button for floor ten.

"Not for the reason you think," Hellboy answered, taking a step towards him. "I did some research on you. Considering that your mother was supposed to be a beacon of good will, you had a lot of childhood accidents."

David looked down and away, his expression going sour, "You sure I wasn't just self-destructive? Dr. Flemming seemed to have you hanging on his every word."

"That doctor was full of shit… but you did lie to me."

There was no sound in the elevator except the smooth tones of a big band song emitting from the speakers. David let his bag of chips swing slowly against the wood paneling on the wall, the steady thump matching the beat of the music. Hellboy's tail lashed the air lazily, giving away his mood even though he hid his mind. The elevator eased to a stop and pinged, the doors sliding open onto a floor of suites.

The lush carpet deadened their footsteps. Though the hallway was empty of guests, they maintained their silence until David stopped at a room door and slid his card key into the reader. The streamline silver device let out a soft tone and a click as the lock disengaged. David stepped inside.

Hellboy followed, but stayed near the door. David's suite was large and comfortable. There was a living room with a plush red couch and matching side chair, both facing a large flat screen television. A marble-topped bar sat cattycorner to the balcony doors and there was an unopened bottle of wine sitting on the surface with a lone goblet. Hellboy guessed that the door beside the TV led to the bedroom and bathroom where David had disappeared.

"I'm not here to take you back to Dr. Flemming's circus," Hellboy reassured him in a voice he hoped carried into the bathroom.

David came back into the living room with brown eyes that he fixed on Hellboy, "And yet you hide what you're thinking. I'm smart enough to know that doesn't bode well for me."

"Didn't want to ruin the surprise," Hellboy responded with a smile. "See, when I was doing research, I was also reporting everything to Manning. He's seen enough evidence that he wants to extend another offer for you to join the BPRD, not as John or David, but as Thaddeus. He's convinced the state of Arkansas to drop the case against you."

Thaddeus sat down on the couch, curling one leg underneath him, and ran a hand through his gelled hair. It lost some of its shape, the spikes drooping or coming loose into individual strands again. "And what if I don't want to be an agent? Is the case still going to get dropped?"

Hellboy's disappointment was obvious in the way his shoulders slumped and his tail curled, but Thaddeus felt it too, "Of course. There wasn't a stipulation saying that you had to come back to the bureau."

"Good."

Hellboy nodded and then nodded again, reaching for the doorknob. His mouth twisted into a slight scowl. "You know, I get it. You can pull down a lot of cash doing something like this and hell, these are way nicer digs than the bureau usually gets us when we go out of town, but I thought you said that working with the BPRD made sense to you. I thought you liked it."

There was more that Thaddeus wanted to hear. He wanted the demon to tell him why he'd dedicated months to researching his past and months on top of that searching for Thaddeus after he'd assumed another identity. He wanted to know that Hellboy could accept what he'd done.

"I did like it and it's definitely a good fit for me."

"Then why…" Hellboy tossed his human hand into the air, clearly frustrated with him, "Why won't you come back with me?"

Thaddeus unfolded from the couch and crossed the room, "Because you haven't asked me to come back with you, you've asked me to come back to the bureau."

"What's the difference?"

"I want to know that you want me to come back, not Manning."

A smile spread across Hellboy's face like warm honey. He wrapped his arms around Thaddeus's waist and pulled him tight, leaning in to claim his mouth in a hungry kiss. Thaddeus melted against him, his arms going up around the demon's neck. When they finally broke apart, Thaddeus was sharing his smile.

"I want you back," Hellboy purred against his lips.

"Then I guess I should pack my bag."

"No rush."

They kissed, lingering a little longer as their hands roamed and explored. Thaddeus gasped when Hellboy grabbed his ass and lifted him off the ground.

Laughing, Thaddeus mentioned, "You still owe me a date."

As Hellboy carried him into the bedroom, he said, "Yeah, I'll get right on that."

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End

Yay, another fic finished! Though this was much, much shorter than the Somewhere Between trilogy, I hope y'all still enjoyed it! It does have the potential for sequels, but we'll see. I've got no plans for one at this point.
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Living Stone	By : AceMaxwell Category: G through L > Hellboy Views: 4868 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellboy and I make no money off this fiction.

Living Stone