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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
- John

I must've dosed because I wake up to someone gently shaking my shoulder. My first thought is Hellboy, but then I remember that I'm angry with him. I roll over, grumbling, "I don't want to talk, Red. Go to sleep."

"Wake up, angel," the voice is adamant and very female.

I sit up to find that I'm surrounded by women, which is unnerved to say the least. It's six of the serving girls. They're actually dressed now, although their attire is all leather and fur that leaves little to the imagination. It's not much of an improvement.

"What do you want?" I ask, unable to hide my bewilderment.

The idea that Odin still wants me dead is scratching at the back of my mind. I try to pretend that it's just paranoia kicking in, but it's a hard feeling to shake. Besides, why would he send glorified waitresses to do me in?

"At Odin's request, we are here to help you understand the glory and freedom of flight," the one who woke me up explains.

Then again, maybe he did send them to kill me. My mind goes back to the cliff that this building is carved into. They could just take me to the top and… I try not to finish that thought.

"Um… why?"

A few of the women exchange looks and one of them snickers. The tallest crosses her arms over her chest, "Because any being with wings should know how to use them." She sounds annoyed, like dealing with me is an inconvenience.

Several of them grab my arms and yank me out of bed. I'm still dressed in my winter gear, so I can't really make the excuse of needing to change and running away.

"What if I don't want to learn? I do just fine on the ground," I counter, shifting my weight back so they can't keep dragging me along. Except these girls are a lot stronger than they look and I stumble as they pull me forward.

I'm not sure which of them answers me, "If you plan to do battle with the angels, you must learn how to fly."

They drag me out into the hall, staying in a tight cluster around me. My panic is running in high gear now. I don't want to start a fight with them in case my fear turns out to be unfounded, but I can't think of another alternative.

The sound of hooves on stone startles me. I crane my neck to look behind me and am shocked to see that one of the waitresses has turned into one of the half-horse Valkyries HB fought with earlier. Panic is no longer the proper word for it. Terror grips my chest in a stranglehold.

I plant my feet, wrenching my arms away from them. The sound of tearing fabric comes as the armor springs forward to wrap around me. My coat falls away in ribbons when I bolt down the hall. It takes me a half a second to realize that I'm headed away from the main hall, but there's no way I'll get past them if I turn around. My only option is forward. I take the first turn I see, trying not to focus on the deafening clack of hoof beats behind me.

Every time the hall branches, I take the left turn, hoping it'll lead me back to entrance of Valhalla. I jerk to a stop as the hallway dead ends in a long stairwell. I don't want to go to another floor, but the Valkyries are right on my heels, so I take the stairs two at a time. Mentally, I'm cussing my stupid fight with Hellboy and the strength of the Norse ale and the fact that he chose tonight to remember that women used to interest him. If he'd been curled up with me, maybe this wouldn't be happening.

The stairwell doesn't open to another floor, it just keeps going. Judging by the burn in my legs and lungs, I've gone seven or eight stories at least, but I haven't seen a hint of another hallway or landing. The metal ring of my feet slapping against the steps and heavy gasps of my breathing inside the helm overwhelm everything else. I slow down a little, turning back to look down the dark tunnel of stairs. The Valkyries are nowhere in sight.

I'm not sure if horses can use stairs, but I'm hoping not. Although, they could've changed back into their human shapes easily enough. I keep walking, listening intently for my pursuers. I would give up almost anything to have my wolf hearing right now. I would have a much better idea of where the Valkyries were if I was still a lycanthrope.

A large, wooden door with ugly metal fittings looms in the darkness. Thank god. I thought I'd climb these stairs until time stopped. The door is tilted back, like the exit of a basement or root cellar. It must lead into some kind of… Honestly, I don't even have a guess. Does Valhalla have an attic? Even despite being chased by murderous horse monsters, I can't help but smile at the idea of Valhalla's attic. I can imagine them storing all of the extra beer mugs next to the Christmas decorations and hot water heater. It would be so very domestic.

I hesitate with my hand on the latch. If the Valkyries aren't following me up the stairs, maybe I can just wait for a while and head back down the way I came. I have no idea what'll be on the other side of the door and I don't want it to be worse than what I've already encountered. Knowing my luck, it'll be some trap door that leads back to Fenris's den. I'll wish I was facing the Valkyries if I end up staring at a mouth full of teeth the size of SUVs.

There's a faint noise from deep within the stairwell, so faint that I'm not even sure I heard it. I suck in a lungful of breath and hold it, listening carefully. The shout comes again. Shit, they are following me! I don't have time to consider the door anymore, it's the only way.

I shove hard at the polished wood and am surprised at how easily the door glides open. Cold slaps at me, biting the tiny bit of flesh it can get to through my armor. My heart sinks as I step out onto a wide, flat plain covered in snow. The only thing breaking the empty space is a tree that's so tall it disappears into the night sky. It's like the trees in Eden before everything burned, so big that it seems like their branches could shade the entire earth.

With my recent experience with giant trees, I don't want to be anywhere near that thing. I run in the opposite direction, not sure where else to go. Not three steps onto the plain, my feet slide out from under me and my shoulder slams into the ground. Pain rushes through my side, but it's not enough to keep me down. I scramble to hands and knees, trying to get my feet back under me but I can't get any traction. It's like trying to run on…

Ice.

I sweep some of the snow off the ground and realize that I'm on a frozen pond or lake. The waterline isn't visible on the horizon. Normally you can see the faint ridge where water meets bank, but it all looks the same.

Something underneath the ice catches my eye, something moving. I clear away a bigger area and peer into the lake. In the back of my head, my rational thought keeps screaming that maybe I don't want to know what swims around in the Norse homelands. If they have wolves big enough to devour half a city and still be hungry, the other creatures here can't be much better.

I glance behind me to make sure the Valkyries haven't come out onto the plain yet. I'm wasting time, but I sweep my arm across the ice to let a little of the moonlight into the lake. Faintly, three figures come into view. At first I think they're some kind of fish with large, elaborate fins, but the more I stare, the more their shapes become clear to me. They're women with long, flowing gowns. Flashes of their alabaster skin appear as they twist and turn in the water, their hair billowing like golden wheat in a breeze. Their movements are a mesmerizing dance.

When I shake out of my stare, it dawns on me that they're weaving something. Each one is holding a thin, shining strand of thread in both hands and their dance is bringing the pieces together into a cord that disappears into the depths.

The loud shouts of the Valkyries interrupt my curiosity. As they bust out of the doorway, they take what I can only assume are their battle forms, wings flaring and horses screaming. I force the armor back into the disk. As much as I need protection, I need my boots more. The metal will never get traction on the ice. I finally get my feet underneath me and run.

Without the armor or my jacket, the frigid air rips at my skin. At least it's not snowing anymore. My heart hammers at jackrabbit speed, bouncing against my ribcage like it's trying to get out. I don't dare look behind me. The sound of hooves pounding across the ice is enough to drive me forward. My boots still slip and slide on the surface, but I'm doing a lot better in them than I was in the armor. When I lose my balance, I don't waste any time scrambling back into a sprint.

The horizon changes slowly as I run. It splits into two. There's the edge I thought was the horizon, and then another line that's much farther in the distance. Only once they become more distinct do I realize what they are. I'm running toward the edge of a cliff.

"Oh shit!" I shout.

Stopping is a problem on the ice. I slow down much too quickly and fall back on my ass, continuing to slide. Rolling to one side, I dig my fingers into the ground to find purchase, but my fingertips scrape raw on the frozen lake and I keep moving. Without any prompting from me, my wings burst out of my back and flare open. The wind resistance helps, but my lower half still slides off the edge.

My hands catch on something hard under the snow and I hang onto it. The Valkyries are still twenty or thirty yards from me, but they're slowing down. They're much more graceful on the ice than I am. They shift their weight back onto their haunches and open their wings, only gliding a little ways before they stop.

I flap my wings uselessly, banging them against the cliff with a wince. My toes dig against the wall but it's just as slick as everything else. I think I'm hanging off a frozen waterfall. Against my better judgment, I look over my shoulder. I swear my heart stops. I'm off to the far right of Valhalla's entrance, dangling hundreds of feet over empty air. The dark, frozen water at the base of the cliff will not break my fall. Images of me splattering on the ice flash through my mind. I think I whimper in fear, but I'm not sure.

Above me, the Valkyries start yelling, "Fly, little angel, fly!" One of them cackles.

Beneath my hands, the ground trembles. I tighten my fingers and pray that I don't lose my grip. A sharp cracking noise rips through the air and the lake behind the Valkyries bulges and shatters into massive chunks. They turn, their horses stomping their feet nervously. I stare in awe as a massive figure emerges from the ice. Even outside of the water, the woman's hair and gown continue to flow around her as though they are caught in a swift wind. She is MUCH bigger than I initially thought watching them underneath the ice.

As she steps out of the water, all of the Valkyries bow, their horses going down onto one knee with their front legs. The giant's face is young and beautiful and very unearthly. Her skin seems to glow in the moonlight. From here, it's hard to tell exactly how tall she is, but I'd guess about twenty or twenty-five feet.

My fingers slip a little and I stop holding my breath and go back to hyperventilating.

The woman's voice is loud, but melodic, almost like listening to an orchestra comprised of flutes. She lifts her hands, the shining threads still draping from them. "This is not the fate of this angel, sisters. Cease now."

The Valkyries talk amongst themselves quietly. They seem to be arguing.

"But he is one of celestial flesh, Odin ordered all of their kind destroyed."

"Skuld has spoken. Who are you to dispute her?"

"You know the will of the Norns is final!"

"I will not have this untrustworthy thing residing in Valhalla!"

I really wish they could finish this fight after someone pulls me back up. My knuckles ache from trying to hold on and my fingers are going numb from the cold. If there was anything else to grab, I could climb up myself but I can't see anything under the layer of white. I start sliding slowly and my panic mounts.

I barely notice what the Norn says as she points down at me. It's something akin to, "His actions change the course of Ragnarok. Save him or all will perish." After delivering her divination, she sinks back into the water.

An alarmed shout fills me with hope, "John!"

Hellboy explodes through the doorway armed with a spear and shield he must've picked up on his way. The woman I saw with him before, the one in the elaborate medieval gown, is right behind him. She stays near the entrance, one hand pressed to her chest. Red runs towards me, but my grip is almost gone. I flap my wings frantically to keep myself from falling. It's not enough. I try to readjust my hold and suddenly I'm gripping nothing but a handful of snow.

I can't hear anything over my own scream.

- HB

She called herself Freya. Honestly, I'm surprised I remember that since I had a lot of shit, and alcohol, on my mind when she introduced herself. I was watching John storm off and thinking how royally I had fucking things up when she slid up and started talking. At first, I didn't really listen to her. She was babbling about how loyalty and demons didn't really mix, getting under my skin really quickly. As soon as I was getting close to telling her to fuck off, she told me that was why she admired me. And after my fight with 'Scout, that was like a knife in the side.

Freya grabbed my jaw with a firmer grasp than I ever would have expected and turned my head to face her. Like most of the women I've encountered here, she's blonde, but her hair hung down well past her ass and was held back by a gold circlet. What really set her apart from the others were her eyes. Staring into them, I could see my life. I don't know how else to explain it than it was like the most significant points in my life were hiding behind the green of her eyes. Fights I've had, my relationship with John, my father, my friends, everything was there, but there was something else too.

Anung un Rama.

Suddenly the things I knew were gone and they were replaced by things that haven't happened. New York City was burning and I was standing in the middle of it. No, not me, Anung un Rama. People were being torn apart by monsters that were flooding out of the subways and sewer grates. Human beings fled in every direction but never got far. The scene flashed to me sitting on a throne built inside what might be the NYC courthouse, all kinds of creatures filling the room around me. Some of them were eating meat straight off of human corpses, and others were fucking the ones that were still alive. Then I was riding at the head of an army of demons. A tiny cluster of gods stood between me and bringing the same chaos I'd wrought on New York to the rest of the world. Leading them was a painfully familiar figure in golden armor with wings held high and proud. John. My John.

I yanked back so hard that I fell out of my chair, staring up at Freya as she stood.

"You know what you are without him," she said, lifting her chin. "Do not let this be your fate. Go to him."

I nodded mutely and got to my feet, maybe more than a little numbed by what I'd seen. Before I could find someone to tell me where John had gone, Freya stiffened and grabbed my arm. Her nails dug into my bicep. This woman was seriously confusing the hell out of me. She wanted me to go to John, but then she grabbed me to hold me back. She needed to make up her damn mind.

"The Norns are stirring," she said cryptically, like I knew what the hell a Norn was.

And then she was running, grabbing a spear and a shield off the walls and shoving them into my hands. Odin and a lot of the dead got to their feet, but none of them followed us.

"What's going on?" I shouted at her back, suddenly very sober. There was a knot growing in my chest and I knew it had something to do with Boyscout. He'd been out of my sight for over an hour, of course it was him. The kid can't keep out of trouble.

She didn't look back when she answered, "Your lover is going to die. The Norns are stirring because it will change everything! We must get to him now!"

I picked up my pace until I was sprinting as fast as I could, charging past her. "Just tell me where to go!" But when I launched out of the stairwell, shouting John's name, the only thing I was in time to see was him sliding off the edge of a cliff and a group of Valkyries taking to the air.

His scream hits me like a sucker punch to the guts.

"No!" I shout as I run through the snow.

I dart around an opening in the ice, dropping my weapons as I get close to the drop-off. Sliding on the ice a little, I fall to my knees and lean out over the edge to look for some sign of John. I can't see anything. There's not even a spot on the lake below where he might've landed.

"Please, please, please tell me that means he learned to use those wings," I mutter to myself.

"Not quite," Freya's voice is amused.

Anger flares somewhere deep in me. "What the hell is so fucking funny about all this?"

If she's upset that I'm yelling at her, she doesn't let on. All she does is point up at the sky. I follow the motion and relief floods me. One of the Valkyries is holding 'Scout by the back of his shirt. His wings are out, but they're hanging limply by his sides. I guess he couldn't quite figure out how to use them.

The Valkyrie swoops down and lets John go when his feet are just a little ways from the ground. He trips on the ice, but I catch him around the waist before he can fall. 'Scout clutches at me with bloody fingers and pants against my chest, mumbling, "I hate Norway." His wings fold around him and me like they're forming a protective shell. I've never seen him do this before.

My guilt swells a little but I'm not sure whether it's because we fought or because I left him alone. Maybe it's both. I press my lips against the top of his head, pulling him tighter in my arms. "I'm sorry," I say simply, really meaning it this time. I probably owe him some pretty words after my drunken display downstairs, but that can wait.

He just nods. When I finally let him go, we're both smiling idiotically but can't stop touching one another. I keep an arm around his shoulders and his hand comes up to tangle in mine.

The Valkyries all land around us and 'Scout flinches back. I glance at the spear on the ground and then back at them, wondering what the hell happened out here, but Freya steps between them and us. With her hands on her hips, she glares at the Valkyries, practically snarling, "You knew this angel was welcome in Odin's land, how dare you attack him!"

Attack him?

I turn to 'Scout and start looking him over for wounds. As far as I can tell, his hands are the only thing that got messed up. The pads of his fingers are raw. 'Scout squirms and complains while I examine him. I know he hates it when I… what's the word he uses, fuss? I know he hates it when I fuss over him, but I've got every right to be worried.

"You alright? Nothing broken? No stab wounds?"

"Red, I'm fine! Stop. This woman came out of the lake and told them to save me."

Freya whirls with a look of complete shock, like somebody just flashed her, "One of the Norns spoke?"

"Yes, milady. Skuld left the others and came to the surface. She warned us against harming the angel," the Valkyrie nearest to Freya explains.

I have to ask, since I'm a little lost and still have no idea what a Norn is, "Is that weird or something? What do the Norns normally do?"

"The Norns control the strands of fate," Freya says, glancing back at the hole in the ice, "They weave what is, what was, and what will be into a single thread of human existence. While they decide what will happen to each man, woman, and child, they've never directly interfered with something before."

You know what I get out of that? Fate can be changed. Sure it's predetermined what's supposed to happen, but if these Norns had to get involved, then things were about to veer away from what they had planned. It's a very small comfort after some of the things Freya showed me.

A tiny whirlwind of snow kicks up a few feet to our right and, when it settles, Odin is standing there. His eye flicks to Freya, then back to the Valkyries, then over to the hole in the ice. The Valkyries paw the ground, shifting back and forth when he turns his glare onto them.

"Why did are the Norns active?" he barks at Freya. "Tell me what is going on."

Freya's expression is deadly. There is some seriously bad blood between these two. I take a step back before the claws can come out. I think Freya was the one he mentioned earlier, the one who takes the other half of the victorious dead. From what I know about Valhalla, Odin takes them from the battlefield to use them to defend the gods when Ragnarok comes. I have no idea why Freya takes the others. Maybe she's got a man harem, who knows…

"You're precious Valkyries nearly killed the one key to humanity's survival is all. Skuld would not stand for it," she whips back at him.

When he turns to the Valkyries, they take off in all directions like a startled flock of pigeons. The wind picks up, blowing hard enough to bring them tumbling back to the ground. It cuts through my coat and I remember that John's jacket is gone. I don't know if he just didn't have time to grab one, or if something happened to it, but he's pressed as close to my side as he can get and is shivering violently. I barely look away from the scene going on between Odin and his women, just opening my jacket so 'Scout can slip inside. I feel his fingers curl in my shirt. They're practically frozen. He must've put his wings away, because I don't have any trouble closing the jacket over him.

Odin grabs the first Valkyrie he gets to and hauls her down by the edge of her breastplate, snarling something I can't hear over the wind. The others get up and cluster around him, some of them taking their human forms. I guess he's chewing them out, but I was kind of hoping for a fight. Damn it.

"How can I be the key to anything?"

I look down at the bulge in my coat, not even sure I heard John right. Pulling the lapel aside so I can see his face, I ask, "What?" I'm vaguely aware that Odin started shouting at the Valkyries, going on about changing the conclusion of Ragnarok, but it's not as important as this.

Boyscout keeps his face pressed to my ribcage, "I'm nobody, Hellboy. Why do they keep saying that I'm going to change everything?"

"I… I don't know," I say only because I don't want to tell him anything else. These prophecies have changed since the first time I heard them, but Freya's little display is the first time I've seen what that prophecy can mean. I throw out, "Happens to me all the time," with a laugh in the hopes of lightening 'Scout's mood, but it doesn't seem to help either of us.

The images of New York burn in my head. John really would be the only person who could stop me if I… If I turned back into Him. I'm beginning to wonder if Michael recreated John with that purpose in mind. I'm going to change this fucking fate everyone keeps hanging over my head. No way am I going to make John stand between me and the people I've sworn to protect. It shouldn't be his burden.

Freya turns away from Odin's rant and walks over to us, her eyes fixing on John. I straighten up a little, mentally screaming that she'd better not show him the same thing she showed me. 'Scout would probably freak out and he's already halfway there, so he definitely doesn't need that right now. "You really ought to know how to fly," she half coos at him, brushing the bangs off his forehead.

Before I can stop it, a defensive growl rolls out of my chest. Freya and John both give me a look for it and I raise a brow in return. I'm not apologizing for that, they're just going to have to deal with it. "What?" I grumble, gripping 'Scout tighter.

Boyscout rolls his eyes. Yeah, I probably don't have any right to act defensive after what I did downstairs, but I've got to fix that somehow. I'm not unfaithful and I don't want 'Scout to start doubting me. His faith in me should never have to waiver.

"You need to learn how to fly, especially if you're going to face the ranks of angels. Being on the ground is almost a death sentence," Freya completely ignores my little possessive display and looks back at John. She doesn't take her hand away from his forehead, her thumb moving across his skin rhythmically. 'Scout's not any keener on her actions than I am. Subtly, he shifts back against me to try and get away from the touch, but she keeps her hand on him.

"Yeah, I get that," 'Scout drawls out, the annoyance barely hidden in his tone. "But I don't know what you expect me to do in the amount of time we-" his words melt into an uncertain gasp and his legs give out.

My arm compulsively tightens around him before he drops too far. "'Scout?" Freya's eyes are a deeper green than they were a second ago. Oh shit. Her thumb keeps moving over his skin and his eyes roll back so far in his head that I can't see anything but the whites. "What the fuck are you doin' to him?" I growl.

She doesn't acknowledge me beyond whispering, "Don't move him."

Suddenly, the snow kicks up full force, slamming into the three of us. Odin's voice screams with the wind, "You are not to tamper with the Norn's design! Leave him, Freya!" All of the Valkyries have scattered and now Odin is coming towards us at a pace that definitely not a friendly saunter.

Freya brings her other hand up to the side of John's head, "I change nothing that the angels haven't already tampered with."

"Freya!"

I raise my stone hand as he charges up, half-afraid that Odin is going to attack her. He stops short because she pulls away. There's a second or two where we all just stand around staring at each other and then John opens his eyes.

"Red…"

I turn my eyes away from Odin's furious expression and focus on John's blissed-out face. He looks completely mellow, content almost, like he just got finished having a massage or is coming down off a high or something. Not that I know anything about people coming down off of highs, but it seems like a fitting expression. A smile spreads on his face that reminds me of the days where we sprawl out on the couch with him tucked against my side and watch bad TV together.

"You all right?"

The smile gets a bit wider and he says, "I know how to fly." It flares into a full-blown grin that's quickly becoming contagious. I feel it pulling at the corners of my mouth too. "I know how to fly!"

Odin yanks Freya to him by her arm, snarling at her, "This is not the way of things! You do not just tamper with the threads of fate. If you cut too many lines, everything could collapse."

"Hey, lay off her," I snap at him. "She's just trying to help."

He shoves a finger against my chest, "Stay out of this."

At least he didn't call me hell spawn this time, but it still pisses me off. What the fuck happened to 'you earned my respect'? "No, I'm rooted so far in this that I'm part of the fucking tree. Now leave her alone." I feel another fight brewing, or maybe I'm itching for one… I'm not really sure.

My side is cold.

John is gone. I whip around to see where he's gotten to and see him standing at the edge of the cliff, his wings held wide. "John?"

He leaps off the edge and drops out of sight. My stomach drops with him. I'm not convinced that Freya can just teach him how to fly by pushing it into his brain. I whisper sharply, "Come on, come on," wanting him to come back where I can see him. I grit my teeth. "Come ON."

John shoots upward with howling laughter that warms me to my core, "This is awesome!" He goes from a climb to a spiral, doing a number of tricks that would make your average person airsick.

Odin stalks off into a whirlwind of snow and vanishes, but Freya pulls her hand to her chest and watches John fly. She's probably broken all kinds of rules to give this to Boyscout. From what I can gather, changing fate is not something that the Norse take lightly. Course, the only things they do seem to take lightly are drinking and arm wrestling and those are both done in freakish abundance.

'Scout swoops down close enough that I could touch him, pumping his wings hard to hover in place. "Not bad for my first day, eh?"

I snag his shirt and pull him closer, "C'mere, you show off." My lips barely ghost across his before he's off again, putting his wings to the test.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

TBC…

I've now learned that I cannot watch House and write at the same time… Curse my inability to multi-task effectively…

Also, that last snippet of scene is for AnimeRockGirl on Deviant Art for all of her lovely drawings. I know it's not quite what you'd envisioned for the scene, but I hope you liked it anyway.
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Lines of Shadow: Sequel to Somewhere Between