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Between the Lines: Sequel to Somewhere Between	By : AceMaxwell Category: G through L > Hellboy Views: 6046 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Hellboy or the characters within, and I don't make money off Hellboy or this story.

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You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.~Psalms 91:5

- HB

The bolt on the first door I kick in gives way with a satisfying snap. There's not much behind it, just a plain sitting room with a massive statue of the archangel Michael against the far wall. Weird décor, but nothing incriminating.

The other agents get the idea and move on to the other nearby rooms. We make our way down the hall, finding a hell of a lot of nothing. Empty library, empty study, empty fucking house. It's not just that we can't find John, there's nobody in this place, not a fucking soul.

It's weird.

"Hey Red," the paperwork kid trots up beside me.

"What?"

"Didn't Blue say that demons lived here? I mean, aren't there a lot of angels in the decorations for demons?"

I shrug, "No accounting for taste."

I'm not really in the mood for a Q and A, but, thankfully, he doesn't say anything else. He sorta' bobs his head in agreement.

From down the hall, the other newbie agent shoves open a door with his foot and yells, "Clear." He watches too many movies.

"You're not a member of the SWAT team, so quit it," I yell at him.

He looks at me like I just dumped a bucket of water on his parade. "But I thought, in a situation like this…"

"If there's something here, do we want it to know where we are?"

"Um… no."

"Then shut up."

It's harsh, but I'm getting this feeling that something's very wrong here. I don't get a gut response all that often, that's more of a 'Scout thing, but it's hard to ignore it when I do. This whole thing seems like a set up, and I'm beginning to think that we're being watched.

I check down the hall in both directions, but it's just like the rest of the house, empty. If there's somebody on our tail, I don't know where he's hiding.

We go though a big archway and come into a cross-section of halls. The more of this place I see, the more I'm thinking we could miss 'Scout entirely. It's such a big building that they could take him down a side hall and we'd never even know it.

"Crap," I mutter as I look down the four different halls we have to choose from. The one to the far left is calling my name, I couldn't say why. I turn that way.

"Come on kid, give me a sign." I don't know what I'm expecting, but I don't get it. Instead, Abe's voice chimes in my earpiece.

"Our folklore expert was hardly what she seemed. I cannot find any trace of the bureau in her memories."

I push open a door with my gun, aiming into another dead end. It's a fancy bathroom with nobody home. This is getting old.

"So she was just sent in to lure John out?" I theorize.

"Hm, could be," Abe pauses and gasps slightly, "Red, this woman has Demegov's emblem burned into her skin."

I stop, pressing the ear-bud a little deeper into my ear. I know what I heard, but I'm hoping he said something different. "What?"

"It is possible that his power extends beyond contagions. We might be looking at a high level demon, the likes of which we haven't seen before."

I have to admit, part of me is anticipating a good fight, but this bastard has John and God only knows what he plans on doing with him. If he's hurt him, it ain't going to be pretty. I'll kick his ass so hard he won't be able to find it afterwards.

"Red?"

I ignore the newbie, thinking about what Abe said. What would a demon want with 'Scout? He's not a pureblood wolf, he's not even aggressive (except recently), he's not a pack leader… I don't get it.

"Red, I hear something," paperwork boy tugs on my jacket and points down the hall.

The swat-team wannabe is leaning against a door with a stupid grin on his face, "Sounds like we'll catch them with their pants down."

"Move," I order, getting into position to kick the door down. Considering the rest of the house is empty, it's probably just a couple of teenagers that broke in. My boot hits in the center of the wood and the bolt snaps like a twig. The door slams backwards into the room.

The demon doing the fucking doesn't seem to notice, or he doesn't give a shit 'cause he just keeps at it. He's got wings that spread across most of the room, so he's a high-level bastard, but I doubt that he's Demegov. Seems like a plague demon wouldn't spend a lot of his time getting laid.

The agent from the capri case busts in next to me and takes aim, "Freeze!"

I'm about to mention that he's probably not going anywhere until he gets off, but something he did caught the demon's attention. He stops thrusting long enough to send a glare over his shoulder, his wings flaring out far enough to touch either wall.

"Alright pal, we're looking for Demegov, now where we can find him?"

It can't hurt to ask, but, like I figured, he's not interested in talking. He lunges towards me a hell of a lot faster than I was expecting, hitting me square in the chest with his shoulder. It catches me off guard and I stumble back a few steps.

"Damn, son of a…" I swing my stone hand around, but I barely clip his side. Bastard is fast, really fast. He darts past me and slams into paperwork kid before he gets a shot off.

I put a bullet into the wall next to him and he leaps onto the headboard, grinning like a maniac. He glances down and I follow his gaze to see who the demon was screwing. Bound and bleeding is John, my John. He's staring into nothingness, his expression frozen in pain. Abe's words come back to me, that being with someone else could kill him.

"John!" I shout and head towards his side. Just before I reach him, something sharp whips across my face. Blood runs hot down my skin. I turn a lethal glare onto the demon, a primal rage taking over me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the other agent raising his gun. I practically roar at him, "Don't you dare! He's mine."

The demon's grin gets that much wider as he crawls off the headboard and onto the bed. "You don't seem all that powerful. The way he talked about you, I expected something a bit more impressive."

He leans down to lick the side of John's face and something inside me snaps.

I charge him. I don't bother with my gun; he'll just dodge around it. No, my plan is to rip him apart with my bare hands. His wing lashes across my chest, going straight through my jacket and shirt and laying me open nearly to the bone. I grab for it and miss, my rage mounting. The damn thing laughs at me and lashes out again, but I've got the timing right this time. I snag the bony edge of the wing, yanking him to me.

He's not laughing anymore.

"Anung un Rama, please, I beg of you," he snivels once I have him.

My rage boils over. He can grovel all he likes, it won't save him. I slam him onto the ground, pinning him with my knee, and bash my stone fist into his face. Blood flies first, but the second and third hits throw up small pieces of bone.

I vaguely realize that I'm screaming at the top of my lungs, but I can't stop. All I see is John's lifeless body, his broken eyes, and this THING is responsible. I slam my fist into the demon until he stops moving, until there's nothing left of him but red mist and organic slime clinging to my hand.

Even then, my fury won't subside.

Heat is crawling up my arm from the stone and the cracks and crevices seem to radiate like embers on a fire. I've felt this before, but I don't give it much thought. I continue to make the ground where the demon was into rubble. The blood looks like a massive Rorschach test spreading out around me.

My anger slowly starts to recede to the recesses of my mind and I sit back to admire my handiwork. The floor is covered in bits of demon. His head is completely gone. Foolish lesser should not have touched what is mine.

I climb to my feet and take a moment to suck the blood off my fingers. The humans I came in with shrink away form me as I go back to my pair's side. Sorrow wells in me when I see the tear tracks on his face.

I should have been here sooner.

He doesn't look at me when I touch his face. In fact, he doesn't seem to be looking at anything. His eyes are lifeless. For a moment, I fear that he might be gone, but I see his chest rising and falling minutely.

One of the humans says a name I don't acknowledge. I wrap my pair in the sheet and reach up to rip his chains out of the wall. He still doesn't react as I scoop him up. Normally, he would fight me over being carried, but it's as though he's not there.

If he can't be fixed, the future of this world is very bleak. I can't say that there's a reason to keep protecting it without him.

The humans scurry along behind me as I carry my pair's limp form out of Demegov's house. We pass by the ocean dweller and he calls me by the name the other mortal used. I don't answer. He gets closer, but tries to respect my space. It's a wise choice.

"Anung un Rama?"

I turn, warning him with my eyes that he'd better have a good reason for addressing me. The ocean dweller is someone I respect, but I'm in an extremely foul mood.

His gaze flashes from my pair, then back to me. I can tell he's trying to determine what happened, but doesn't want to ask. When he doesn't speak in a timely fashion, I start walking again. The whole group minces along in my wake.

Eventually, the ocean dweller speaks again, "If we can get back to my books, I may be able to find a way to help John."

I cradle my pair's bruised and bloodied body closer to my own. His wolfen abilities have already begun to heal the wounds, but nothing can change the damage in his head. Even if we can bring him around, he might not let anyone touch him again. I don't know if I could stand him looking at me with fear.

"We have to try," I say contrary to my thoughts. I immediately extend the severity of the situation, "You have one hour or I seek answers elsewhere." I don't need to speak the rest of the threat, the ocean dweller can see it in my mind.

He mumbles, "I don't usually work under these kinds of conditions, but I'll see what I can do," and leads everyone back to the vehicles.

I spend the ride removing the remnants of shackles from my pair's wrists and trying to ignore the stench of fear rolling off the humans. I'm tempted to obliterate them for their cowardice, but I know my pair would not approve.

The ocean dweller is keeping a thoughtful eye on me. I'm sure he knows there is nothing he could do should I decide to become homicidal, but his gaze seems to be more of concern than thinking of me as a threat. He is also fond of my pair, so I will let him worry if it helps.

I trail my flesh fingers down my pair's face and across the delicate hollow of his throat. My hand pauses on a thin piece of metal pressed deep into his skin. There are scorch marks all around it; I can barely smell the burned flesh. It must be silver.

I consider the collar carefully, not sure of the best way to remove it. If I just wrench it loose I'll risk farther damage to his neck, possibly enough damage to kill him.

I gentry maneuver my pair upright so I can look at the rest of the silver band. There's a tiny locking mechanism at the back, far too small for me to work with. More nimble hands will be needed for this.

The ocean dweller gets up instantly. I nearly forgot he could read minds. "Let me help. We need to get the silver off of him as soon as possible," he offers, not coming too close until I nod.

He goes to work on the collar, fitting a small metal instrument into the keyhole. It only takes moments for him to get it open. The collar has to be peeled away and takes some skin with it, but my pair doesn't flinch. It tells me how deeply buried he is in his mind. I know my pair and something like that should have had him whining and gripping my arm so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"You have to help me fix him," I tell the ocean dweller softly. I take the threat out of it. He is, after all, my friend.

"I will," he swears to me and I believe him. It would be grave mistake to break such a promise, especially to me.

When we stop, I follow the ocean dweller closely. He hurries into a library. It's a place I've been, but the memory is as vague as a dream.

I lay my charge out across an elaborate desk, making sure that he's still covered by the sheet. Unconscious or no, my pair is extremely modest and wouldn't want to find out that he was exposed.

The ocean dweller starts scanning through books at a rapid rate, tossing them on a table behind him when they don't have the information he needs. Eventually, he makes a sound of discovery and starts reading a tome more in depth.

I hear the door open and glance over with minimal interest. The human general stands in the frame, his mouth hanging open as he stares at me. I want to crush him for the impertinence.

The ocean dweller leaps between us, taking the human's shoulder firmly in an attempt to lead him away. Even though he speaks in a low voice, I can still hear his words, "It would be best if you didn't stare while he's in this state, Leonitus. I'll give you a full report as soon I can find an answer for John's condition."

The human's eyes flick off of me just long enough to take in my pair's still form. "What happened to Myers? And why is his head on fire?" He looks back at me, clearly in shock over my current appearance.

The ocean dweller escorts him out before I can get truly angry. He explains very little to the human, but dishes out vague promises to do so later.

I'm considering gathering my pair up and taking him to someone who will get results sooner, but the ocean dweller comes rushing back with a multitude of apologies. I start absently stroking my partner's hair while the fish man gets back to his books. The clock above the shelves states that it's only a few minutes past the new hour. I'll give him until the half.

He doesn't need that long. After only a few more moments with his book, he has a solution, "It says here that you must re-mate with him within…" his eyes go wide as he pauses, "Now, you must re-mate him now. There's a chance it may already be too late."

- John

I come to with the feeling that someone is leaning over me. My situation comes rushing back in a flash, the wrenching pain as Veldex took me by force. His pointed grin hovered above me, mocking my agony and my terror. He was laughing as I sobbed. My body screamed that this demon was not my mate and it felt as though I was being ripped apart.

"No!" I scream and jerk upright, dragging my claws across the body above me.

I open my eyes, but all I see is red. Have I gone blind? Arms wrap around my back and my pulse leaps into a gallop. I struggle against him, trying to shift but my wolf isn't responding.

The scents of home start to break through my panic. As I calm down, I can pick out individual smells: the cats, HB's secret cigar stash he thinks I don't know about, sweat and old sex. But the thing that pacifies me the most is the smell of my mate, musky and strong against my nose.

"Hellboy," I murmur, curling my hands on his chest.

Something's wrong though. It could be the fact that he hasn't said anything, or maybe there's something a little off about his smell. There's a sharp metallic hint of blood on him, but it's not that uncommon after a mission. Right now, I really don't care.

I close my eyes and let my mind wander as HB's flesh hand rubs circles across my back. A bit belatedly, I realize that I'm naked. Everywhere he touches me, its skin on skin. I'm sticky too and I'm not about to dwell on that. All that matters is that I'm safe now.

"Why are you so quiet?" I finally ask.

Typically, he would've thrown out a plethora of nervous jokes and a 'maybe you should stay home' by now.

His voice seems deeper than usual when he answers me, "I didn't have anything to say."

I go into shock. HB always has something to say. The only exception I know of is the days following Professor Bruttenholm's death. I remember feeling so useless then, wishing I could do more for Hellboy.

I sit back and my breath catches in my throat. The first things I notice are his eyes. I don't know why, considering his massive horns, but his eyes have no pupils. They're solid yellow and seem to have a faint glow to them. His breath mists as though the air is freezing, but I know that it's because his body temperature is infinitely higher than it usually is.

It took the forceful interference of Rasputin to release this side of him the first time. I don't need to ask what caused it. I shudder to think of what condition he found me in. Veldex is probably dead and I'm thankful for that.

"Red," I whisper, ghosting my hand over the nasty gashes I just left on him. I'm not sure whether he's still Hellboy, or if Anung un Rama is a different personality entirely. Clearly, he still cares for me either way; I just don't know how to bring him around.

He leans in to press his lips to my forehead and all of my muscles knot up involuntarily. My breathing stops. Panic crops up as quickly as it had vanished moments before. I can't push it back.

Red sits back with a wounded look. I think it hurts me more than it does him. He's been my mate, my lover, for longer than most can imagine and I have no reason to fear him. My throat closes up at the thought of hurting him, but I don't know how to fix it.

I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling unwanted tears stinging behind my eyelids. "I'm sorry," I croak out as I manage to get my strange attack under control.

"Oh, babe, it's not your fault."

When I open my eyes, his normal gaze meets mine. I'm glad to have him back to being HB. As much as Anung un Rama is still my mate, he scares me because I know what his purpose is. He'd rather be surrounded by the destruction of mankind, me by his side, than be cooped up in the bureau.

For him, it's that simple.

I use Red's tactic to shake my foreboding, tossing out a half-hearted joke, "It's going to take you forever to file your horns back."

He laughs a little, but it seems forced. It's going to take us a long time to live down this day. I know he'll worry about me more, and I'll be looking over my shoulder and fighting off nightmares for months.

Some tiny part of me wants to blame him for not being there sooner, but his guilt is already rampant on his features. I wouldn't voice something like that. The rational part of me knows he did what he could. I was the one who shouldn't have wandered off like an idiot.

After only a second of hesitation, I lean forward to rest my face against his chest. My fear slowly leaks out of me as I breathe his scent. Red holds me tightly, like I'd slip away if he didn't. I don't mind because I feel like I might too.

There's one thing I have to know, "Did you kill him?" I whisper the question against his skin, terrified that the answer is 'no'.

Red doesn't say anything at first. He buries his nose in my hair while he thinks. The long pause makes me nervous. Maybe Veldex did get away, maybe Red found me after the fact and couldn't find him. My stomach starts doing sickening summersaults as the possibilities mount.

Finally, he sighs, "Yes, he's dead. There's not much left actually."

All of my muscles release at once, my tension vanishing. HB keeps explaining (like he needs to defend his actions), but I let him talk.

"I completely lost control when I saw what he'd done to you. I never…" he trails off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

I understand exactly what he's trying to say. HB can get angry, or pissed, but he doesn't lose control. There's really no reason to be surprised by it, considering the circumstances.

I don't ask what he did to him; I doubt I would want to know the details. It was probably a horribly violent death and I'm satisfied with that. As long as I don't see him again.

Just the thought of him brings a flash of memory that makes me shudder violently. I want him gone. I have to erase him from my mind, from my body. In my current state, I'm not sure if I can, but I'm going to try.

I kiss HB firmly on the mouth, desperately needing him to make things normal. His reaction is strong. He grabs my shoulders, gripping so tightly it almost hurts, and lays us both against the bed.

My panic mounts instantly, but I shove it back. I don't know what I'm trying to prove. Maybe if I'm with Red, I won't think about what happened, maybe I'll be able to shake the feeling that I'm filthy, violated.

I open my mouth to HB's tongue, but my trembling gives me away. He stops immediately and rests his cheek against mine. His voice is tight, pained, "John, you don't have to do this."

It's amazing how few people realize that HB is extremely receptive. It may just be that we've been close for so long, but I don't have to say anything for him to know how I'm feeling. Except he doesn't have all the details. He knows I'm scared, but he doesn't realize that I have to get past that to be okay.

"Yes, I do," I state as firmly as I can when I'm shaking like a leaf.

HB pushes himself up to stare at me with incredulous eyes, "You know, I may not look too patient, but I can wait. Especially for you."

He gives me a reassuring smile. I'm proud that he didn't stumble over something that he would normally call 'sappy beyond all reasoning'. He doesn't even try to negate the statement with some sarcastic comment afterwards. It's nice, but I learned a long time ago to hear the truth hidden in his brazen attitude.

"I need this, Red," I confirm again, hoping to sound a little more convincing this time. "I need to forget what happened."

As he's preparing an argument, something occurs to me.

"Lie back," I tell him, getting a bemused expression from him.

"Why?"

"Just do it."

He does and his horns catch on the headboard on the way down. After some grumbling and a few choice words about using a metal file on them, he gets settled. I roll over onto his chest and my fear is gone instantly, relief fills the space.

"This is better," I say, my eyes stuck on Red's washboard stomach as I straddle him. This might work. If I'm feeling okay enough with this that seeing him turns me on, maybe I can make it through. Although, I don't think there's much that can shake that desire out of me.

HB looks unconvinced. He runs his hands up my thighs in leisurely strokes, keeping mindful not to let them stray too high. "So what do you want to do?"

A comment like that makes me smile. I realize what he's thinking now and he's really far off base. "I'm not going to ask you to play bottom," I reassure him.

Red relaxes slightly, "I didn't figure… Are you really sure you want to push this so soon? It's okay if you-"

I interrupt, only for fear that I'll lose my nerve if we beat around the bushes too long, "The sooner I'm with you, the sooner we can both put this behind us."

My words kill any protest he might have had left. He nods and slowly winds his tail around my leg. It's his silent way of claiming me.

I wasn't going to bother with any prep, but it's Red who grabs the lube out of the drawer. Considering there's still moisture between my legs from… I just don't think it's needed. Since the reason is too upsetting to mention, I don't argue as he slicks himself up and trails two glistening fingers up the inside of my thigh.

HB is watching my expression carefully, so I try to keep it as neutral as I can. Any sign of fear or discomfort will make him stop in an instant. As his digits slip inside me one at a time, I do get a brief, but stifling swell of fear that I manage to beat into submission. He pauses until I nod my consent breathlessly.

We don't talk, our communication is perfectly clear in the way we look at one another, in the way our muscles twitch and our eyes change. I suppose we haven't needed words in a long time, but we use them out of habit.

Red withdraws his hand and I get into position over his cock, his strong hands guiding me. I take him into me in one quick move. It burns, but it's good. My throat doesn't constrict with terror at feeling him inside me, so it's good no matter how much it hurts.

He lets me take the reigns, for which I'm grateful. When the pace is my own, it makes things a little easier. I take it slow, achingly slow compared to our normal sessions, but he doesn't complain.

I rise up off of him, my body shaking just a little as all of the pain morphs into familiar pleasure. Red takes it the wrong way, as I knew he would, so I ignore his concerned questions and push back down recklessly fast.

A growl rolls out of my primal side like it's just waking from hibernation and I realize that it's going to be alright. I might still have nightmares in the coming months and I might still watch dark shadows more closely than I used to, but I'll have my mate with me no matter what.

I throw myself into our lovemaking with wild abandon, which surprises Red, but only for a moment. Before I can tease him for his look of total confusion, it's replaced by a half-cocked grin that I cover with my lips.

Everything's going to be fine…

TBC…

It was a dark chapter, sorry for those of you who were looking for a more lighthearted resolution to John getting abducted by a demon. I was really, REALLY torn about which way it should turn out, but it seemed more dramatic like this.
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Between the Lines: Sequel to Somewhere Between