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Lines of Shadow: Sequel to Somewhere Between	By : AceMaxwell Category: G through L > Hellboy Views: 4117 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellboy or any related character and make no money off this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Prophecies
- 2-Reunion
- 3-Artifact
- 4-Inferno
- 5-Flightless
- 6-Valhalla
- 7-Fate
- 8-Broken
- 9-Seduction
- 10-Unleashed
- 11-Traitor
- 12-Overrun
- 13-Vows
- 14-Escape
- 15-War
- 16-Humanity
- 17-Ragnarok
- 18-Judgment
- 4
- 5
- 6
So this is the "I'm so sorry this took me so long" spiel that accompanies most chapter updates. I've got a lot going on right now and I'm slow… sorry.

Also, my Beta is catching up on this story and will be editing chapters before they come out soon... just not this one. So if you find weird mistakes please let me know so I can edit!

- HB

Twenty-four hours into a real job and 'Scout nearly dies… This doesn't bode well. I would say we're going to pack it up and go home, but there's no way we can leave now. The world can't end at the hands of an angel. It seems wrong. Angels were supposed to be God's servants, so I wonder what happened to piss this one off so bad. Although, I guess I'd be pretty fucking pissed if I spent an eternity serving people. It would get real old, real fast.

It took a few trips through shadow, but we're all sitting around Anubis's shop licking our wounds (some of us more literally than others). Abe's goin' from one person to the next, pulling out fragments of arrows and applying bandages. While he does that, Anubis talks about the gates and the gods and a really old wager.

Apparently, the great creators stumbled across this empty planet eons ago and decided to have a dick-waving contest. Every creator would make his own version of what would be called 'man' and whichever version was the most successful would win. I don't think anyone remembers what they win, but hell, a few hundred-thousand years will do that to a guy's memory.

While all the gods couldn't agree on what afterlife the humans should have, they did agree on one thing: hell. And just in case they ever needed to get into the underworld, they created twelve gates and gave out twelve keys. Whoever thought of that plan should be shot. Twelve keys to one hell? That's a whole lot of bad waiting to happen.

'Scout's sitting in a chair that's turned backwards, his forearms resting across the back. It's a lot easier for Blue to get to his wounds that way. The first thing Blue tried to do was take the disk-thing off of 'Scout's back, but it wouldn't let go. Anubis says 'Scout's gotta' be completely relaxed before it'll come off. I doubt that'll happen in the next couple of days.

"Why would you need to get into hell at all? I've heard what's behind those gates. Wouldn't it all rush out as soon as the doors open?" John asks, hissing halfway through his question as Abe extracts a shard of wood from his shoulder.

Anubis shrugs, "Everything needs a failsafe and the keys were given to extremely capable guardians. As far as everything flooding out… I can't say. I wasn't born until after the earth was populated and I wasn't all that close to my grandfather."

"Your grandfather?" I ask. I'm not that familiar with Egyptian lore. All I knew about Anubis before today was that he was half dog and gothic chicks love to get tattoos of him. Although, the dog thing turned out to not be true.

Blue doesn't give Anubis a chance to answer. Without looking up from what he's doing, the living encyclopedia starts spitting out info, "The great sun god Ra created Egypt and spat out four children to rule it."

'Scout raises his eyebrows, "Spat?"

"Sort of. They came from within him and that's just how our people interpreted it," Anubis revises. "Though, they also didn't understand that gods can have an incestuous relationship with no repercussions, but humans aren't so fortunate. So all the royalty only married family and caused the inevitable downfall of the human's royal line…"

"Oops," I joke with a grin. After a second, his statement really sinks in. "Wait, incestuous? Like with family?"

Anubis an annoyed look in my direction, growling, "Yes, with family. That is the definition of incestuous. I hardly think you have room to judge since you're relationship is far from any norm."

"Yeah, but John's not my brother."

'Scout leans forward and drops his forehead onto the chair back. His exasperated groan is unmistakable. I'm not sure who it's aimed at, but I'm going to assume it's me. "It was the beginning of time, Red. There weren't a lot of other fish in the ocean at that point."

Anubis sighs and picks up his spear, laying it across his lap. Grabbing a rag from the counter, he starts cleaning the blood off the blade. He moves systematically from the tip down. He's trying to be the bigger man and ignore our argument, but I never believed in that stupid act.

I snort and say plenty loud enough for his giant-ass ears to catch, "Wouldn't say there aren't any repercussions."

His illusion flickers a little, giving me a glimpse of his snarl. "And what does that mean?"

"Nothin'," I shrug. Let him be the bigger man now… I grin to myself. If 'Scout could reach me, he would've hit me for that one. As is, his glare is lethal.

Abe sets his tweezers on the elaborate end table he's using as a medical tray and grabs the bottle of peroxide. He yanks some paper towels off a half used roll and presses them against 'Scout's back before pouring the disinfectant into his wound. The liquid foams up, turning pink as it mixes with his blood.

"I am almost ready to begin your stitches."

Boyscout's cringe says enough. We don't have anything that'll deaden the pain, which Abe flatly explained when we got back. If I'd realized stitches were going to be involved, I might've been more adamant that we get some. Stitches are a bitch when you don't have something to take the edge off.

I push off the wall I've been leaning on and come around to crouch in front of John, offering him my left hand. He takes it in both of his with a thankful smile.

"You two are such drama queens."

My head snaps up and I ask Abe, "What did you just say?" I'm not really offended, but did he seriously just use the phrase 'drama queen'?

"That is the correct idiom when someone is overreacting, isn't it? I pull my judgment from the fact that the two of you get thrown into walls and bitten and shot and stabbed on a fairly regular basis, but when I pull out a needle, you act as though the world is ending." Abe threads the needle in one try, tying a surgical knot to the opposite end. He pauses and says, "That may be a poor choice of words, considering the circumstances."

"Nobody likes needles, Blue," John ignores the comment about the end of the world and grips my hand a little harder in preparation for the first stick.

Blue slides the needle into the base of the wound, making my skin crawl a bit. Maybe he's right, but it doesn't change that I'd rather get thrown into a wall than get stitches. He gently pinches the wound shut as he sews. Every new prick makes John's hands spasm around mine.

To get 'Scout's mind off of it, I shift his focus onto the mission. "So, what's the plan now? You said we have to alert the other gods, but how are we supposed to find them?" I look over my shoulder at Anubis, enjoying the fact that he's still got that pissy expression.

"We'll need more hands if we're going to tell everyone before Gabriel gets to one of those gates."

"We should call the Society," John mentions between winces. "Lazarus can contact Torque. He's the only one who knows where to find him."

"I can move the fastest, so I'll take a majority of the gates, but I won't be able to get to all of them… and there are a few kingdoms I'm not welcome in." We all look up at Anubis, but he continues instead of elaborating. "If you can get to the Viking homelands, Odin will find you."

I'm pretty sure being found by Odin is actually a bad thing, mostly because I don't like the way he phrased that. It sounded far too ominous. "'Scout's staying with me," I want to make it clear early. No way am I letting him wander off on his own to find more trouble to get into. More than a fair share of the old-world gods were honored with blood sacrifices and I know they're not just going to invite us in for teatime. 'Scout, on the other hand, probably doesn't realize what kind of darkness is hiding in these ancient beings.

Abe ties off the thread and cuts it. "I can take one of the bureau's planes wherever I'm needed."

"You might need a helicopter, actually. The Hindu gods reside in the Himalayas and there aren't many landing strips out there."

I'm starting to see a trend here. Abe and John and I are going to the coldest places known to man and Anubis is headed where exactly? "Where are you goin' first?"

"Probably Mexico. The Mayans do not guard their gate as well as some of the others do."

"So we're going to freeze our asses off and you're going to a tropical fucking paradise?" I growl.

He smile is almost feral. "The last time I made contact with the Mayans, they tried to cut my heart out. If you want to take a crack at them-"

"No!" John interrupts loudly. He quiets down, flushing beautifully before he mutters, "We'll stick with the Norse, thanks." The end of his statement is punctuated by a 'shut the fuck up' look aimed directly at me.

"Besides, you and Odin should get along famously. You're rather similar."

I'm skeptical of that.

"You're both hard headed."

I shoot Anubis the finger and he laughs. I'm still deciding whether I hate this guy, or really like him. He annoys the shit out of me, but I have to admire that he gives as good as he gets.

"You going to drop us off on your way?" I ask, still pretty miffed that he's going to Mexico and we're headed off to… wait, where are the Vikings from?

"Norway," Abe supplies seamlessly.

"Awesome," the word drips sarcasm. I've been to Norway. It's cold during the summer and really fuckin' cold during the winter.

Anubis sets his spear against the wall and gets to his feet, "I can't take you to your respective destinations." I open my mouth to argue but he pushes on, "If I drop you and can't come back for whatever reason, you'll be stuck without transportation. We can't afford that right now."

So that means we're going to be spending a lot of time cooped up on a plane. Great. I'm assuming Abe'll be taking his agents to India with him, so that mean there won't be a poker game to fill the time. 'Course, when 'Scout's not sleeping, we tend to abuse our membership for the mile high club, so there's always that.

"Can I borrow your phone? Mine's dead," John asks Anubis.

The jackal-god points to the back room and 'Scout disappears behind the beaded curtain that serves as a door.

"Hope you've got a good long distance plan," I offhandedly mention as I start searching my pockets for a cigar. I know I brought another one with me, but we've been through a lot between me stashing it and now. It could be gone.

Taking 'Scout's departure as his cue, Abe moves off to the far side of the room to contact his agents. I catch snippets of his conversation, but I don't get much beyond "We are going to need the helicopter sooner than that" and "Yes, winter gear." I start to remind him that 'Scout and I are going to need warmer clothes too, but I'm sure he knows.

Anubis leans slightly so he can see into the back room, "Who is he calling?"

"A few of our friends."

"Many of the deities are extremely dangerous. If they're human-"

"One's immortal, the other can weaponize the energy she steals from your body, another is an African demi-god…"

"I get the idea."

"Are you sure? I could go on." I grin at the annoyed look he gives me.

"You enjoy getting a rise out of me, don't you?"

He's catching on. My grin widens a little as I give him more grief, "Nah, not at all."

Anubis opens a glass case that's full of armor and weapons. His human form disappears as he pulls a metal breastplate out and starts strapping it on. It's a Roman-styled plate, the kind where the metal is shaped like the guy's half naked and ripped. He slips a pair of silver wrist guards onto his arms and reaches for a helmet that's specifically designed to fit over his snout and long ears. The metal rests on the length of his nose, curling down around the muzzle without impeding his jaw.

"You really don't trust these guys," I say when he kneels to put on some greaves onto the top half of his multi-jointed legs.

"I did mention their attempts to cut out my heart. Were you listening or just trying to come up with more witty comebacks? The Mayans are… volatile." He pauses in the middle of fixing a loose strap and looks at me, "Guard your mate carefully in Norway."

See, now I'm suspicious again. "Are we going to get our asses kicked out there or are they actually going to listen to us? I mean, how are we supposed to convince them that we're not just… you know."

"Full of shit?"

Not the phrase I was going to use, but it works a hell of a lot better than what I was trying to come up with. "Yeah."

He finishes gearing up while he chews on my question. "Well," he starts, grabbing his spear and sliding it into a metal ring on the back of his armor. "You're just going to have to be convincing."

"Great advice," I mutter. With those giant-ass ears of his, I know he heard me, but Anubis doesn't say anything else.

John sticks his head out from the back room, swatting some of the beads strings out of his face. "Where should I tell them to meet us after they're done in Africa?"

"They're going to handle the tribal gods? I don't know if that's a good idea." Anubis doesn't seem to think that anybody can handle anything but him. His confidence in us is extremely motivating…

"They can manage, trust me," 'Scout shoots back at him sharply.

Anubis seems skeptical, but answers, "Have them meet us in Athens in two days." As he's vanishing into the shadows, he throws, "And do lock up before you leave," over his shoulder.

'Scout and I stand there blinking for a second before John asks, "With what key?"

I shrug.

Abe comes back over, setting his satellite phone on a display case full of tiny gold figurines. Poor guy looks a little dried out. Between being in one of the hottest places on earth and running around in an inferno, he could probably use a swim.

"Leonitus is going to commandeer a helicopter from a local base and you two are going in the cargo plane. I'm not sure how I'm expected to get to India and back in two days, but I'll try my best."

"Right so, do we have to sneak around Cairo like a bunch of ninjas or are they coming to pick us up?" I ask, scratching at the bandage on my shoulder.

Abe slaps my hand away as he answers, "They'll be here in a few minutes."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The flight to Norway isn't as bad as the one across the Atlantic. Like clockwork though, 'Scout nodded off a little after we left the runway. I didn't even get a chance to bring up the mile-high-club idea. He woke up about ten minutes ago, but we're getting close to landing now. As we're banking over our destination, I'm pretty pissed to see snow on everything. It's not cold yet where John and I live, but apparently they're balls deep in winter here.

"Why would anybody live somewhere with so much damn snow," I mutter, not really expecting an answer.

'Scout tosses his magazine in the seat across from us and leans over me to see through the window, "Some people like snow."

I absently rub the muscles in the back of his neck while we both stare out at the white ground. It's not so much the snow that I hate as it is the cold. Wearing big, stupid lookin' coats isn't really up my alley so I usually just stick with the duster jacket Dad bought me back in the 60's. Course, it's been patched and reworked so many times that I doubt any part of the original is left.

My fingers press a little harder into John's spine as he leans back into my touch. I circle the nub of each vertebrate with my thumb, working my way down. His soft sigh lets me know he's enjoying it. When my hand touches metal, my gaze snaps away from the window. I push the collar of his shirt down so I can see the disk. It's almost flat against his skin, unnoticeable under his clothes if you know it was there. My mind strays back to the armor's purpose, to what it means. I want it off him.

Anubis said something about John needing to be completely relaxed before we can get it off… the most calm Boyscout ever gets is right after sex. Not just any sex though, it's gotta' be full-blown, we've-been-at-it-for-too-many-hours-to-count sex. I file the idea into the back of my head for later and follow the disk's encryption with my index finger.

The symbols are all individual pieces of carved silver about the size of a grain of rice and each letter is lined with a strip of gold almost too small to see. There are words here and there that I half recognize, but the language is not familiar. I'd bet that it's the same thing that John threw at the banshee.

"'Scout-"

"If the next thing you're going to say is anything close to the phrase 'maybe you should stay on the plane' then save it," John cuts in quickly.

My mouth snaps shut involuntarily because that's exactly what I was going to say and I don't have a good comeback ready. Normally I would, but he caught me off guard. He sits back to give me a look that warns against argument, but he should know better than that. No way am I just letting this go.

"'Scout-"

"No, you know exactly where the conversation is going to end, so-"

"Will you just give me a chance to-"

"We're not having this fucking argum-"

"Will you stop interrupting me, damn it!" I raise my voice an immediately regret it.

John clams up, crossing his arms over his chest and letting ice grow across his expression. Shit. This is the way he gets when he's really fuckin' ticked. The muscle in his jaw twitches slightly as he glares at me. Talking to him when he's like this is like trying to talk to a pet rock. I flop back in the seat and rub my forehead just under my horns.

"Sorry," I mumble, only half meaning it. I know he doesn't like to be left on the sidelines like the team mascot, but I wish he wouldn't get so damn angry when I'm just trying to keep him safe.

After a full minute of silence stretches out between us, he finally lets his arms drop, "I just don't want to have this argument again, Red. I'm sick of it. It always ends the same way."

I have to bite my lip against my retort. Telling him that it only ends that way because he's as stubborn as an ass will not win me any prizes. I'll probably end up sleeping in the chair in the living room for a month if I let something like that slip. That always leaves a crick in my neck.

I have to break this damn mood before we land so I joke with an encouraging smile, "But you'd look so cute in an apron."

He hides his laugh in a snort and punches my bicep.

The overhead speaker clicks on and the copilot clears his throat before hesitantly saying, "Um… there are goats on our landing strip, so we might have to circle a couple of times."

In unison, 'Scout and I ask, "Goats?"

We pull up and back as sharply as this mega monster plane can. As far as I can tell, we're in the middle of nowhere so I doubt this landing strip gets much use. There's a tiny building just to the east of it with smoke coming out of the chimney. I bet the goats belong to whoever lives there. Guess they're more of herders than airstrip managers.

"Why are we landing here?" I ask as I get unbuckled and walk to the front.

The pilot glances back at me when I stick my head into the cockpit. He pushes the steering wheel forward and we start a second go at the runway. The goats dart in different directions, but there's still too many of them to land. The pilot pulls up hard. We probably come within twenty feet of the ground. I have to hold onto the doorframe so I don't fall.

"Are you sure this is a runway?"

I feel John at my back. He grabs my sleeve and mumbles, "They're never going to get all of them to move." He's quiet for a while as we circle again and make another extremely unsuccessful run at the animals.

"These goats have balls of steel," I joke, getting a 'no kidding' from the copilot.

"Have you ever jumped out of a plane before," John asks.

I grin, knowing where this is going, "Yeah, have you?"

His grip on my coat tightens, "Uh… no."

I brush my hand through his hair as I turn and head towards the back of the plane. "I wouldn't worry too much, kiddo, you've got wings. I'm taking a parachute though."

"Take us higher," John tells the pilot before following me.

I grab two chutes out of the lockers and throw one at him without looking. He must've caught it 'cause I don't hear it hit the floor. I'm mostly strapped into mine before I realize that John's not moving. I glance up at him. Boyscout is kneading the bag between his hands. He's scared, I can see it in his face.

"Baby?" It's just a jump. He's done way more dangerous stuff than this. Hell, regular people do this all the time. "What's up?"

"I'm not sure how this has never come up before… but…" He scratches one arm and gives me a sheepish grin, "I'm afraid of heights."

"No you're not," I deny instantly. If he was, I would know about it… right? How the hell could I have missed something like that? Sure we've never jumped out of a plane before, but that should've been brought to light at some point.

I yank my shoulder straps tight and straighten up. Waiting for a punch line that never comes is always awkward. 'Scout stares at me with those big, blue eyes and doubt edges into my mind. "You are," comes out with my exhale. I take a step forward, not entirely sure what I'm trying to do. "Then why did you… Jumping out of a plane was kinda' your idea."

"Yeah, we're kind of in a hurry."

"But you're afraid of heights."

He pushes both hands against his face with a groan, "I didn't really think that through."

Something about the situation gets to me and I have to chuckle. Ignoring his exasperated look, I start helping him into his chute.

"What's so funny?" he asks as I click the belt home around his waist and reach for the straps at his chest. The bulky fabric of his coat makes the straps a tight fit, even after they've been loosened.

My growing smirk probably doesn't help things any, but I can't stop it, "Is it considered ironic when someone with wings is afraid of heights?"

He rolls his eyes and grabs a pair of yellow-tinted snow goggles from the crates the BPRD dropped off with Abe's helicopter. "When you spend the better part of eighty years with your feet planted firmly on the ground, you get used to it. Why do you think I take pills before we fly?"

Wait, what? "Since when?"

"You are the most unobservant creature on the face of the planet! Since forever, Hellboy. That's why I always go to sleep on the plane," he points out, snapping the goggles into place.

"What did you take when you were a wolf, horse tranquilizer? Over the counter stuff didn't exactly do much for you then," I explain, trying to make the pieces fit together when I didn't even realize there was a puzzle to do. Maybe he's right, maybe I am unobservant… I'd like to think I know everything about John by now, but I'm feelin' like a bit of an ass here.

'Scout handles the chute release delicately, muttering, "Bear."

"What?"

"The tranquilizers," he drops the cord and finally meets my eyes. "They were designed for bears."

"Okay, we're just going to let that one go."

The copilot comes out of the cockpit and motions at the door, "You guys going to do this or what?"

"Yeah. Give us the green light when you get over a good area," I tell him before turning back to 'Scout. "Okay, crash course in-"

He winces and butts in, "Do you have to call it that?"

My tail twitches slightly. I'm trying not to be annoyed since I know he's freaked out, but I've only got about thirty seconds to get him prepped for this. "After you jump, count to five and pull the rip cord. If your chute fails, this is the back up," I finish by touching the bright red cord I'm talking about.

Before his feet can get too cold, I slap the button to open the cargo doors and yank him into position. I doubt he's going to jump on his own so I'll probably need to drag him out when I go. He won't like it, but he already said we're in a hurry.

Freezing air races around us the moment the door starts moving. It roars against my ears and gets my adrenaline going. Honestly, I don't really like jumping out of planes either. I had a chute fail back in '78 and the landing was more than just a bitch, it was three rolled into one. I was lucky I landed where I did, since the spruce trees broke my fall, but I've been wary of it ever since.

My gaze flicks to the light above the door. I'm not sure if they're going to use it, but I don't have to wonder long. The light flares and John takes off down the ramp. I'm half a second behind him. I should've known better than to think he couldn't do it. Even scared shitless, Boyscout will do just about anything. If he couldn't perform under pressure, he never would've made it as an agent.

Our feet bang against the metal and we sprint down the ramp and then it's gone. My stomach slams against my spine as I start the drop. The thrill of it replaces everything else. John's a few feet below me and a little to the right, not far enough out of the way. If he pulls his chute, we're going to crash into each other. I lean left to give us both more room just as he reaches for his ripcord. His chute opens flawlessly and he whips past me.

I fall another second or two, watching the ground grown underneath me before I pull the chute release. The chute opens fine, jerking all of the restraints against my chest and shoulders.

"Fuck," I grunt from the force of it.

Above me, I hear John shout, "Let's never do that again!"

I chuckle as I start looking for a good place to land. I'm not great at controlling a parachute, but I know enough to angle myself where I want to go. Didn't really have enough time to tell John about the handles that can angle your trajectory. There are small stands of trees everywhere. It's not quite a forest, but there's enough obstacles to make landing a pain in the ass. I pull to the right to avoid a couple pines. The snow sucks at my feet as I hit the ground and I stumble. I throw my stone hand out to catch myself, sinking up to my elbow.

Branches crash behind me and I get to my feet just in time to see John's chute get hung up on the trees. He jerks back and forth from the momentum, cussing up a storm. 'Scout reaches into the lines to yank on them.

"'Scout, babe, quit it. Look down."

He does and freezes, his hands sliding out of the cords. A fall of almost twenty feet would probably break his leg so it'd be best if he doesn't bust the branches that are holding him up. John mutters something I don't catch while I'm unfastening my harness.

"What?"

"Please, please get me down! Just get… please…" he trails off, his face flushing. Even with the giant-ass goggles covering half of his features, I can tell how embarrassed he is.

I trudge through the snow, examining the tree carefully. There aren't too many branches low to the ground. The only one that looks like it could hold my weight is about two feet above my reach. I don't climb well. In fact, I don't think I've successfully climbed a tree since I was ten. Used to do it all the time, but I wasn't nearly as bulky then.

A giant black bird lands on the limb that John's chute is hung up on. I swear the things looks smug, like we really suck at flying and it thinks it's funny. 'Scout gives a little startled shout when he notices the bird and it takes off.

As he starts doing that calming-breathing thing he does when a case is really getting to him, I shout jokingly, "Don't hyperventilate up there." I drop my voice as I'm running through my options, "I've just gotta' figure out how to…"

Really, I don't know how I'm going to get to him. The trees are too far apart to brace my feet on and the bark looks flaky, so I don't know if I can stick a knife in it to climb… I guess I could try and catch him, but I don't think 'Scout's going to go for that idea.

"Red," 'Scout draws out my name in alarm.

"I'm coming, just give me a minute."

"Red!"

I look up then, thinking maybe the branch is giving way, and see something I've never seen before. I don't get to say that all that often anymore. At first glance, they look like six winged chicks on horses. Their extremely shapely bodies disappear after the navel, melting into the middle of the horse's backs. The animals have large, feathered wings coming out of their flanks and the human parts of them have a matching pair coming from their backs. All of the horses are black with blonde manes and tails the same bleach-looking hue as the riders' hair.

My first intuition says they're Valkyries.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

TBC…

I know there wasn't nearly as much action in this update, but it's coming, I swear. The boys have earned a break after they nearly died in a burning Eden! You're about to be introduced to a whole slew of characters and I've finally figured out how the beginning attaches to the end! Yay for middles! I know there's only a small number of y'all still reading this, so this is for you.
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Lines of Shadow: Sequel to Somewhere Between