If he grew up good

by Tunder28

Summary:

John’s mom had always told him. Be a good boy. Behave. Play nice. She warned him that his anger was dangerous. He could hurt people if he wasn’t careful. Well, he supposed he was in the best place now. The BPRD, a place where all the freaks were welcome.
Now all John had to do was keep quiet, pretending he was normal.

Notes:

Right- it’s a 2020- so its time for me to try hard or set an example for the year! No way I’m letting myself down.

ENJOY MY HEAD CANNON! Send some love to the writer!

Chapter 1

1.

 

Nuada heard the noise before it all fell apart.

A loud crack sounded above, drawing his attention up…and he saw it.

Time slowed, watching as rocks started to detach from the ceiling of the cave, fall in chunks, raining down around him. It made his foot shift, brushing against more debris. There was no adequate footing to move swiftly. He could only drop to the floor, time and body mass dragging him down sluggishly, and hope that the bigger falling rocks didn’t hit him.

His chance of survival was slim, even as one of the many rocks exploded into bit to the right of his head, scattering shards into his face and down the neck of his uniform. He crushed his eyes shut against the assault and instantly took a sharp hit to the elbow. Automatically, he rolled onto his side to minimise his size.

The noise was growing, nearly as loud as his heartbeat in his ears. He could hear more- the entire ceiling cracking- bits falling loose in quick succession.

This was it. The entire cave was groaning, grinding together, struggling to not fold in-

It was a large block of the ceiling that did it, giving way finally…and Nuada stared as the rest of it caved around it, chasing itself with a deep boom that overpowering everything else. The point of the break grew above him as the walls collapsed, pointed as if drawn to his very location.

A blurry rock the size of a small bolder was slopping towards his head and he shut his eyes, willing his mind still. He would not die full of fear, he would find his peace and-and… It touched the tip of his nose with sudden coldness- and stopped.

The sound of gravel spilling through cracks was thunderous in the sudden quiet, and it made Nuada very aware of just how fast his heart was beating. The ribs above his breastbone ached with it. His throat pounded with the drum of it and his head spun with its sickening rhythm.

He should be dead. Crushed. But he wasn’t. The rock destined for his face floating a mere inch away. It scraped at his nose tip as he turned- turned towards where he could feel that pressure coming from, where the centre of that stillness resided.

There stood his caretaker, struggling hand outstretched and nose bloody and… -doing something that was stopping all the rocks from raining down onto him.

It wasn’t possible.

Moving  slowly, Nuada slid himself backwards across the cavern floor, away from the hulking shape above until he could crouch safely out from under it. He stepped gently away; fearing one wrong tap would bring everything tumbling down.

 “Nuada!”

-It wasn’t possible-

“Nua-AH!” the shout was part pain and stark terror. At once, Nuada looked up, watching one half of the room drop- and he acted.

Leaping over a rock twice his chests size, he side stepped another and met his caretaker head on.

It seemed the fool had been running headfirst into the mess to save him.

Twisting into a landing crouch, Nuada caught hold of that annoying black jacket that the man constantly had to wear. It was not suited for battle, but it was useful now in allowing him to continue the fall, dragging his caretaker with him and out of the hole where the entrance had previously been. Now it was only big enough for Nuada to fold them through it, scraping his cheek and banging the humans shoulder hard into its edge.

They fell out and over each other, the human crying out in pain when Nuada landed on his stomach and winded himself on the man’s upturned knee. 

The human was not so graceful in his fall, succeeding in head butting the metal shoulder pad of Nuada’s armour and cutting his brow. They finished their roll in a starfish sprawl, legs and arms thrown out to stop any further momentum and scaring the agent guarding the entrance.

 “Sir!” one of the agents shouted, hand on his gun. What the man thought he could do against a cave-in, Nuada could not fathom. It was only further proof of humanities collective stupidity.

But the pause was enough for rational thought to sink in.

They’d only been working together 3 weeks and already his caretaker had managed to save his life twice. It was unbearable to consider, but twice was too many times that he would need a humans help.

“Simmons!” John sat up, coughing and struggling to get Nuada off him, “the caverns falling in. Get everyone out!”

Nuada could at least admit that when scared, humans reacted relatively fast. They had an inkling of survival instinct that had survived time.

Part of the wall to their left cracked and it got them moving.

While it would be disgraceful to be seen fleeing with humans, Nuada would not remain when death was certain.

Making it safely outside, Nuada sighed through his nose and dabbed a clean cloth at his cheek, watching as the rest of the structure slowly succumbed to the collapse. What a waste of time. They hadn’t managed to get the staff, an assignment frankly far beneath his role.

Perhaps he’d reconsider next time. Boredom was better than this…

And even more annoying, he could hear someone shouting, the sound mechanical through the device in Johns hand, something about “ancient”- and “-irreplaceable!” and “Nuada again!”

John- his ill advised caretaker- was glaring at Nuada and nodding along, stuttering apologies back to the voice.

Nuada gave him a brief arch of his brow, enough to cow anyone…expect John, who just shook his head at him and gave Nuada his back, continuing to apologies in a neutral tone.

It didn’t matter. Nuada didn’t care for his disapproval. What he did need, was a bath.

---

“Did you really have to break the alter?” John asked. He was tired. He was hungry. He was dirty and he did not want to be standing in Nuada’s room back at the BPRD and get murder stare no.2 from Nuada because it was his fault!.

“Yes” Nuada answered in a clipped tone and turned, finished cleaning his spear and placed it safely back on its rack. The table shook at the impact and John, wisely, changed topic.

“Are you injured?” he asked, remembering their tumble. He’d had to get his eyebrow taped over and some paracetamol for the pain, but other than a bruised butt, he was fine.

Nuada had been in the middle of the cave in.

And John was trying not to think about that. About him. About Nuada’s eyes and his expression when he’d looked at John. Knowing what John could do.

He watched Nuada’s back grow tense and the elf stopped walking away from him. Perhaps he’d been thinking along the same lines.

Quietly, John braced himself for the questions. What would he say this time. Heat of the moment? Adrenaline?- a deadly situation could cause the brain to think up all kinds of things. Maybe-

“No. Leave” Nuada commanded and went over to his bed. But he didn’t sit on it, waiting for John to go so he could rest.

John beat a very hasty retreat, silently thankful that today was not the day he’d have that talk.

Simmons was waiting for him in the corridor, rifle resting behind his back and a wary look on his face.

“Sir?” Simmons started, walking with John down the corridor. For a 5 ft 7 man with a slim build, he carried the weapon with ease, like it belonged.

“Sir, I’ve given the report to Manning personally. You don’t need to worry, I’ve detailed the cave in and Nuada’s involvement-”

Simmons was a good man, to a point. If push came to shove, he’d save his own neck before yours. It wasn’t anything personal. Merely survival. But he was a boss pleaser. And he was getting one too many agents in trouble for it.

John would have to counter sign the report and he knew there was a black marker in his draw somewhere.

“Thanks Simmons. Everyone get out ok?” John asked. He was dead on his feet, but he still had a few more things to do before he could sleep.

Reports, counter signatures, equipment catalogue and damage control. And security feeds that needed to be looked over.

Broom had been sure of Johns place with Hellboy and the rest of the team. So sure, in fact, that John questioned just how much the professor knew about him.

The man hadn’t said anything, but John had always seen that look in his eyes, the ‘perched at the edge of your seat’ look that the professor had around him. A weighted pressure, one that grew the longer John held onto his secret.

In the end, Broom had died before confirming anything, And John had been sent away to Antarctica.

And now he was back. And everything was different.

Abe was hold up with princess Nuala, who’d conveniently brought along her estranged brother.

Prince Nuada had taken one look at John and sneered.

And this had invented John’s calculation system of death glares when he’d been informed John was to be his handler, his caregiver and now the agent in change.

John was now the most experience agent in dealing with royal assholes. Minus Abe. And Liz. Which was another headache to add to the many.

The BPRD wasn’t an ideal place to raise children, demonic ones at that, who had a spark for mischief and a case of pyrokinesis. There was now a fire exhaust on every level and new hydrants covertly positioned around the grounds and in the gardens.

John wasn’t taking chances. The building housed almost all the agents the BPDR had to offer, and it was a big place. No need to let fate take a chance, so John improvised.

It’d been one of his first orders.

Manning hadn’t been pleased with the budget, but already they’d put out more fires than they’d had call outs to scenes. So he quietly shook John’s hand, welcomed him back, and told him to get to work.

Simmons was still talking, fidgeting with his hands and trying to insist on how John would come out squeaky clean and-

“Thank you Agent Simmons” it came out harsh, and John relaxed his tense shoulders and turned to face the man. Forcing his voice to soften, John surveyed Simmons. He was just as tired and dirty as John. He’d probably watched, horror struck, as the cave gave way with John and Nuada still inside.

For that, John let Simmons meet his eye and smile sleepily. “It’s been a long day. Go get some rest and some dinner. Is the cafeteria still open?”

“No sir, chef’s all go to bed at ten” Simmons sounded down trodden but was already edging away, looking like he wanted to go.

“Alright. I’ll get on the reports tonight. Thanks”

Simmons slipped away and John unlocked his door and shut it again, swinging his ID card to activate higher level locks. He didn’t want any interruptions. Not tonight.

His card allowed him access to on site cameras, and like one of his many nightly duties, John went back over them. Checked for any slip ups that could happen by chance and ruin…whatever this was.

He was clear, no stray cups floating into hand, no reports levitating and discontinuing their slow slide to the floor.

He was lucky. Again.

Turning away, he went over to the reports and pulled open his draw, uncapping his black marker with his teeth and got to work.

 

Notes:

I've been on and off writing and this idea was what kept me tapping away at the keyboard. My other story/ies are on hold at the moment while i work through a slow period.

FOR COVER ART
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1gPGpqDk7fZCW2hT2eT4rzuFCNTMbJtHb/view?usp=sharing

Chapter 2

Notes:

Sorry to keep you waiting. sent me some love- or hate- or ideas.

Nuada wasn’t happy. He was restless. He was angry and what was worse was, a human had managed to confuse him.

While granted, humans had many traditions that were stupid and unneeded, but confusion was not something they offered him.

John Myers had an ability.

And he’d saved his life.

Taking his shower hadn’t settled him. He was still pacing his room, eyeing his spear and wondering if he should forsake sleep and train. He couldn’t get any good movement in his room, the space too small for any benefit. But he didn’t want to go to the gym, where any loose agent might come across him.

He’d taken to the basement, where sounds reverberated and no one could sneak closer without him knowing.  There were cameras everywhere, as his caretaker had found him many times, eyes warily watching Nuada move through his routine. Each time always brought that inquiring look, curious to what had ticked him off this time…

Nuada gritted his teeth and forced the thought away. He didn’t care about them. They were weak and only offered questions that he and Nuala couldn’t answer. How were they back? Where did they go in death?-

He didn’t know. Oblivion had taken them, and now they were returned.

He had no answers for them. And now he had questions, thoughts about John Myers and how he was able to stop death from claiming him again.

The rock should have killed him. He should be dead. And he’d been saved by his enemy.

He knew what troubled him, but he wouldn’t face it tonight. For now, he grabbed his spear and left his room, heading down to the basement. 

Perhaps some light training would grant him peace enough to sleep.

---

“Remember baby” she said, rubbing his fringe out of his eyes when she noticed his crinkled nose, “you stay calm. Ok? Be good”

Her face was foggy, the farm behind her wavering, but John held on. He had to. Feeling his little hand lift, he struggled to force his fingers to move, grab hold of his mothers, tucking his smaller hand under her rougher one.

She’d been out in the fields, tending to the crops, like always. Her skin was raspy and warm, tough and familiar. It felt so right that he-he tightened his hold on her.

“Baby” her voice was urgent now. “Let go. Mommy needs to-”

-

It was the vibrating of his phone that woke him, sounded by his ear, jolting him violently out of sleep. When he opened his eyes, rocking his head towards the noise, the room shook. Book vibrated in the shelves. His coffee cup wobbled precariously closer to the end of the table. His neat and filed folders spilled out over his desk like someone had swept them aside.

He dazedly watched the papers settle, dropping his head back in defeat.

He was doing it again.

Shutting his eyes to block out his now messy room, he blindly reached for the phone.

“Hello” he mumbled, pushing the duvet off his legs, sitting himself up. He was still tired. The dream was back and he was-

“Hello? John?” a familiar voice said, trying to get his attention. They’d asked him a question and he couldn’t focus. The dream was too close to the surface and now his room-

“Yeah I’m here”

He wasn’t, but he rubbed the grit from his eyes and forced himself to listen and not watch the room in case the books should jump in the shelves again.

“Could you come down to the library please?” Abe’s said and John sat up straighter, realising he should’ve had his mental shields up.

Abe was one of the few people who’d glimpsed past his veil. He hadn’t told John what he’d seen, but he was careful with John in the beginning, leaving breadcrumbs of friendship, offering support if he needed it.

And John’d run, like a coward. Proclaimed to Clay that Abe was ‘weird’ and then…he’d met Hellboy.

 “I’ll be right down”

He made record time throwing his previous days clothes back on, grabbed up his ID and swiping into the library and catching Abe and Nuala…very close. He must have made a noise, because the two quickly jumped back, eyeing him warily, like he’s tell them off. He wouldn’t, but he was glad Nuada wasn’t here to scowl at them.

Nuada didn’t approve. No one else really cared. There had been some speculation on what the future children would look, in the beginning and only between certain agents. John had been quick to nip that in the butt.

The two of them were happy and John was happy for them. Really, he was.

But some agents had started hinting at the idea of a summer wedding, only doing so in glee when Nuada had sneered at them.

In his words, Nuala was a princess, and Abe…was nothing. He had no title, no lineage, nothing to offer Nuala, and so he’d made clear he did not approve.

And the two had continued on, happy and in bliss and only slightly wide eyed when Nuada stormed out of the area.

“er-Sorry” John said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean to in-erm”. He didn’t want to insinuate-

“It’s fine John” Abe waved a hand at him and took up Nuala’s with his other, guiding her around the table. “We were just discussing the shards recovered at the site of the cave in. You see,” Abe displayed the ruins of rock and glass, “these are what are left of the-er-staff”.

John cast a defeated look at him, trying not to project the idea of his bed. He was 2 hours early already and there was no chance of clocking off later with all the paper work still at his desk. Somehow, Agents had decided that this year was the year they actually did their paperwork, and drop it off in John’s in-tray.

Abe jolted back-violently.

“Abe?!” reaching out, John tried to steady him, but Abe pulled back, tucking his arms in close and almost shying away from him.

“Abe?-What’s wrong?” he asked again, trying to fight down the terror. Was he hurt. Had he done something to Abe, was-

No. There was stillness behind him, and when John swung his head around, hand going to his belt where his gun was supposed to be, Nuada stood not 2 feet away.  Still, his hand reflexively twitched, trying to grab at his none existing gun, and the edge of Nuada’s lip twitched, amused.

Concerned, John silently wished he hadn’t rushed out of his room so fast and left his gun behind. He didn’t plan to shoot Nuada, but…it was best to be safe than sorry. Manning hadn’t been impressed at housing the an old enemy and he’d stated very clear, that should Nuada so much as scrape another human, he was to be put down.

“Sister” Nuada acknowledged her with a bow of his head, “what is keeping you from our morning walk?”

Nuala, bless her, tapped her hands on the table and discreetly dropping Abe’s.

“Brother, we were caught up in the essence of the staff shards”.

She followed Abe’s example, waving her hand down at the mess, and her eyebrows drooped when Nuada merely flicked his eyes to it and back.

“Come dear sister, walk with me” Nuada half turned, shoulders and head tilted towards the door, but he waited for her to come around the table and take his arm, folding his over hers and left the room.

“Ok” John said to the silent room, “What was that about?”

Abe shook his head, coming as close to frustrated as John had ever seen him. “Never mind him, Nuala will be back shortly”.

To ease the tension, John stepped closer to the table, giving it his full focus. “What did you wanna show me Abe?”

Like a light going on above his head, Abe waved his arms, “Yes, of course. Here John, take a seat”. He swept around and pulled out the stool, positioning it so John had a good view.

“You see here, with a slight push of pressureee” Abe drew out the word as he used a hammer to press down on one of the shards. The result was pretty serious, the hammer glowing amber at the contact, -hissing- and rebounding, imbedding in the ceiling. The shard remained unharmed, shimmered with white speckles of magic.

In the chaos, he’s stumbling back, upending the chair. Stared up in shock, John quickly looking back down to the shards and then to Abe, who was watching John’s expression with rapt interest. Too much interest.

Quickly, John pushed his shields up as he tried to cloak what he was thinking. He wasn’t thinking about pressure and rocks, the sound of it grinding in his ears and the air going thin-

God, if a simple press of a hammer could do that, what would have been the result of Nuada giving it a swift smack to dislodge it from the mantle. Perhaps a shockwave big enough to cause a cave in?

What would have happened if his power had touched the spear?

Deep inside, John let that fearful thought settle. They were lucky it hadn’t.

 “So yes, we now have our answer as to the tremors being reported by the neighbouring towns. Perhaps someone had been trying to harness the magic and had taken to shipping away at it. The repercussions could have been dire for the surrounding towns had it ignited at its full form”

“What?” John interrupted, because he was pretty sure he’d been there when the thing had gone off. The cave in had been big, but the towns were many miles away.

“Oh” Abe tapped at his mouth, round eyes staring into John as if realising he may have downplayed John’s little near death experience. “I merely meant that this is not the full shard. You see, the length of this tip-” Abe held it up to the light, “is far longer than the rest”.

“Meaning there are more shards out there that could go boom with some pressure” John finished, not liking the idea of it. It meant more work for them, following up on who had previous had the staff, why they’d tucked it away in a cave and where the hell were they when the teams moved in.

“Mmm” Abe hummed, gently putting his selected shard back on the table, “a trouble for another day”.

Thankfully Nuala was back before they could test any more of the shards. Abe’s back straightened as she entered and together they drew close, holding out hands that the other took up with bliss and closing eyes.

It was very…personal.

And embarrassingly. And when John glanced at the door, looking to escape, Nuada was there, staring at John.

It made his stomach jolt and his nerve fray. He wasn’t ready to have his secret exposed. What would Nuada say? Who would he tell? Nuala maybe? Had he already told her?  Would he gloat, hold the information over John; would he wait for the perfect opportunity?

“John?” Abe said and John couldn’t take it. He had to know if Nuada would keep his mouth shut, he couldn’t –

“I’ve gotta go Abe” John rushed towards the door, now vacant of the prince, but that didn’t stop him from following his retreating shadow. John intended to grab him before he got away.

“John?” Abe said again, louder this time, but John ignored him and moved quickly down the corridor. He tried to walk as fast as he could, following Nuada’s tense back as he ducked down a side corridor, towards the gardens, but he was losing the pace.

Agents waved to John and he nodded his head to then, making it clear he couldn’t stop to chat.

Shockingly, the door to the gardens was left open and when John got to it, he could see Nuada further in, hand lifted to the wilting head of a Rafflesia Flower. The red and orange tones of the plant seemed stronger compared to Nuada’s paleness as he dropped his head, touching the tip of his fingers under the spread petals and pushing them out gently.

It shouldn’t be possible to rejuvenate plants by touch, but John swore he could actually see the redness intensify, throbbing as Nuada’s whispered down to it.

Uncertain if he should interrupt, John gently stepped past the door, raising a hand to rap on the frame. The noise was quiet, and yet Nuada’s yellowed eyes shot up towards him, dripping with displeasure. So far he hadn’t upgraded to utter hatred for mankind, so John wandered in, moving closer to Nuada as he allowed the petals to hold themselves.

“What do you want human”

Nervously, John tucked his hands in and out of his jacket pocket. He’d been so certain that Nuada would jump on the chance to throw what he knew in John’s face, he hadn’t been expecting to…initiate the conversation.

Nuada didn’t like speaking to humans. He made it difficult when he didn’t want to discuss things. John had often been on the receiving end of Nuada’s humanity ending rants and had actually been certain one time that Nuada meant to kill him.

But he hadn’t.

“I need to talk-with you” John finished lamely and Nuada gave him a glowering stare that hinted John should get to the point quickly. “It’s about the mission, the other day”

Nuada didn’t react, so John continued, tongue struggling to form the words he needed. And he really needed Nuada to be quiet about this.

“Its about…what you saw. With me. I-I mean you saw it, I just, I –er- needed to ask you about it. To…to not talk about it”.

This wasn’t going well. There could be microphones easily hidden among the bushes, concealed behind the ceiling tiles.

“So as I am to understand” Nuada answered, turning his back on John to go to another endangered plant, “We are to discuss something that…you do not want to discuss”.

“Ah-yes?”

Nuada must be running out of patients, because that answer didn’t even warrant him getting a glare. If anything, Nuada was slowing losing any focus on the conversation and going further into the garden, towards plants marked with signs with big black X’s on and ‘danger’ bolded.

“Nua- Prince Nuada” John rushed to follow, going up to the red line on the floor, the one there to warn to go no further. “It’s important that key details of that mission aren’t to be discussed freely”

Maybe he could work it that it was part of an authority check, that some people didn’t have the same level of clearance as others.

Whatever he was expecting, being grabbed violently by the front of his jacket and dragged bodily in front of Nuada was not it. Automatically, his hand went to his throat, but Nuada wasn’t choking him, just holding him roughly.

They were in the danger zone now, the black sign almost taunting as it peeked over Nuada’s shoulder as John tried to push him off.

For his trouble, Nuada shook him roughly and John felt his teeth click.

 “Human!” Nuada hissed quietly, “Do not speak in riddles. I will not tolerate it from the likes of you. I saw what you choose to deny. I-saw- you”

John hated how those select words sent dread plunging into his stomach and made his legs go weak. He couldn’t-

“Had I’d known you were alike to Elizabeth, perhaps you’d have been of assistance on our mission” Nuada sneered at the end, as if whatever part John previously had to play in them was meaningless.

Slowly, the hold grew less aggressive.

“You”, continued Nuada, “are different to the humans here. Other”.

“Yeah he sure is!” A loud voice retorted behind them and John felt pure terror grip him. He knew that voice and he didn’t need to turn his head to see Hellboy stood there, trench coat open and a hand on his weapons belt.  

Hellboy stood safely behind the red line, trademark cigar in his mouth and red tail twitching into view. He also, John noted, had one red finger on the samaritan.

“You wanna put him down your princeling, or am I gonna have ta break up this dance?”

Nuada’s eyebrows drooped. With his head still turned to glare at Hellboy, he unclenched his hands from John’s jacket, releasing him.

While the two hated each other, Nuada would not risk the garden being trashed.

“This isn’t over” he whispered towards John’s direction, and stormed off around them, further into the deadly plant section.

Faintly John patted himself down, realising belatedly that his heart was beating like a drum in his throat. Just another near death experience to add to the scoreboard.  

“You ok boy scout?” Hellboy asked, eyes following Nuada until he was out of sight. “What was all that about? And why’d he mention liz?”

Pressing a hand to his heart, John straightened himself out. He couldn’t seem to meet Hellboys eyes, so he shuffled around his big frame, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Probably gearing up for another insult no doubt”

Screw him, he had paperwork to do. And if Nuada said anything….John didn’t know what he was going to do.

Chapter 3

Notes:

Sooooo....who had a panic attack when they realised they'd POSSIBLY accidently deleted the rest of the fic off their computer? ...Oh yes. ME!!! Thank god I'd backed it up on my G DRIVE.

EnJOY!!

“I just want you to know”, Abe startled, cautiously, hovering with hands over his stomach, then interlacing them like it would help.

“Whatever-” he twirled a hand, “-is upsetting you- whatever you don’t want everyone to know-I promise you. You have been a good friend to me, Agent Myers, and I will not think any less of you”.

Shockingly, Abe had caught John in his office, head bent down over the slowly dwindling pile of papers. He was only 1/3 of the way through, thankfully left uninterrupted.

What shocked John more was Abe not knocking, slipping into the office before John could call out, ask who it was. It probably would have prepared him more for this conversation.

“What!” John scoffed, nerves trying to choke him. “Secret-I don’t- who-no Abe”. Faintly, John noticed he was tidying his desk, pushing his papers straight and aligning his pens. And it looked like a guilty act, so he forced his hands down to his thighs, giving Abe an unsure smile.

Already, Abe was waving a hand, “Nothing to worry about John. But, if you ever needed anyone to…” he hovered on the word, thinking, “confide in. I’m here”.

He was still there, waiting for John to respond, even as several tense seconds of silence passed.

“Ok?” John gasped. Clearly, Abe was picking up on it, no doubt the words PANIC flashing in his mind. He had to get rid of Abe’s suspicion.

“That’s great Abe. And I do- appreciate you, I know we-we can tell each other anything” he rambled, watching Abe’s alien expression blink, waiting for John.

And what was worse was, traitorously, he wanted to tell Abe. He wanted to tell someone, anyone about his power. The only one who knew about his power was his own mother, and bless her, she’d stayed back at the farm house rather than move to the city.

And it was lonely.

Once, when he was younger, he’d imagined what it would be like to actually say it. To tell someone. And he’d realised quickly that he couldn’t and wouldn’t.

The memory of Joe was still there, sometimes showing up terribly in his dreams. Often, he’d wake with sobs at the realisation of what Joe had done to save him and his mother. He’d been too young when it happened, and all he could really recall now was poor Joe. His mother had done what she could to hug him and turn his head away; but he’d seen Joe laying there, a hole in his chest that was no longer moving.

No breath, no voice, no Joe. Not anymore.

And the urge to tell would pass. He’d smile and say he was ok. Just an average day for an ordinary guy.

“I’ll get back to you on that” he croaked, the pressure in his throat unbearable. And he would let Abe walk out and they’d never talk about it.

“John” Abe whispered, like he’d seen some of John’s pain and he came up to the desk. “You are my friend- and a good man!”

And John couldn’t take that. How could he be?

-An image of his old home flashed before his eyes, the living room and hallway sprayed red, when he-

“-Abe!” John almost shouted, shooting up out of his seat so fast that the chair toppled. He couldn’t tell how much Abe had seen, had understood!- and it made the bottom of his stomach go cold. He spread his arms, planting his hands wide on the desk. And at the bottom of his vision, he saw his fingers quivering. It would only take a push….and he’d know. They all would.

“I--”

Older Joe had told him about his future, bellowing accusations and demands for his death. That he’d been a child at the time hadn’t mattered. It was what ‘might’ have been…should John have weaponised his power.

With the BPRD, he knew they would put him to use…

“I can’t talk about any of this now. I-I have work” John answered, like it was a saving grace, raising a hand to stop anymore questions. “I’m buried in work and need to get this done”.

For a horrifying moment, John felt words creeping up his throat. Bad words, ones that would demand Abe leave his office, or tell his friend to get out.

“Could- could you leave me to it…please” John whispered, ashamed.

He didn’t look up, just stared at his papers, listening to Abe leave and shut the door quietly on his way out.

Letting out an angry breath, John slumped back down into his chair. His mood was sour now, and he didn’t want to do anymore paperwork.

But he picked up his pen, and-it snapped in half.

Shocked, he threw it away from himself, the ink splattering the first page it landed on. It was broke in the middle…and he hadn’t meant to.

Panic made another bid to climb up his throat and he pushed himself back, pressing his spine into the chair, forcing his breath to even out. He just needed to calm down. Pressed his arms into the rests, closed his eyes and breathed, letting his thoughts float out of his head. Gently, he pulled air in through his nose, and pushed it out through his mouth.

In----out----in---out.

And slowly, John could feel it working. His shoulders were untensing, his mind pulling back into itself.

And like an adult, he cleaned up the paper as best he could and put things right, getting out a new pen and continued on.

He kept at it, getting though 90% of the papers until the cramp in his hand warned him to stop. Testing his luck, he pushed past it until it was a searing pain sitting at the joints of his thumb and across the back of his hand. Only then, did he call it.

No one had interrupted him since Abe. And now he was thinking about it, he’d have to go and apologies. He didn’t want Abe to feel like he was hiding from him.

When he went the library, Abe wasn’t there, so he tried Abe’s side room, and that too was a bust. He hoped Abe hadn’t run off anywhere.

He approached the labs cautiously, grabbing the door handle, and as he pushed the door open and stepping in-

-caught his 3 friends in the middle of a whispering session, heads huddled down together. At once, they jumped apart and it was clear they were hiding something.

“Hi” John said to the room, worried when none of his friends met his eye. “Everything ok?”

Hellboy, as usual, shot him a cocky grin, “All good Boy scout. Why, you here to take our food orders?”

Liz gave him a smack on the chest and shook her head, but again, she didn’t meet John’s eye, turning her head and crossing her arms. “We’re ok”.

Warning bell started going off in his head.

“Ok?” John agreed, “should I be worried?”

As one, Abe, Liz and Hellboy became shifty, shaking their heads at him in different stages of denial. And it wasn’t looking good.

Maybe he’d need to check the security feed, see what they’d been doing beforehand.  He just hoped it wasn’t anything like the last prank war that had taken place.

No one was talking and it was beginning to get awkward, so John waved at them and turned, stepping back out the room.

Just as the door drifted shut, he heard the whispering kick back up.

“-tell him!” Liz harshly whispered-

“-because” hellboy argued back-“-not one of us”

“-No” Abe whispered  back- and the door shut, cutting off the rest of it.

Stood in the silent corridor, dread swept back into his chest. He had to look at the cameras.

Notes:

any errors, let me know. I found the rest of my story so few more chapters done :) Leave me some feedback and love and i'll update again soon!

Chapter 4

Notes:

Sorry for the delay in update. Got a new job (higher pay- YAY!) so shuffling everything around in my old one in prep for whatever poor soul comes in after me. But oh well, onwards and upwards.

Nuada had not been pleased when he’d called upon his caregiver and the man had not come. No word had followed since. And now, annoyed, Nuada was stalking down the many confusing corridors in search of the missing man.

“You” Nuada demanded at the nearest passing by agent and the man froze, “Where is John Myers”

Unsurprisingly, the mans mouth opened and shut. And it only confirmed why he never bothered conversing with humans. They were so slow. And dull.

“Con-control room, sir”

Moving past him without thanks, Nuada continued on, indirectly slipping down corridors that were less populated with the mass of humans that infested the building.

When he got to the control room, he saw John through the doors window, anxiously tapping at a computer.

Uncaring about being quiet or interrupting, Nuada pushed on the handle- and was stopped in his tracks. It was locked.

But the noise it made was successful, as John’s head came up, a look of startlement passing over it before he recognised him. This would not do. The humans needed to be kept at arm’s length or else think they had comradery.

What further annoyed him was John, who waved at him and shook his head, like he didn’t mean to open the door.

Nuada gave said door a hard kick, the frame rattling enough that the human quickly leapt up from his seat. Good.

“Nuada, I can’t leave at the mome-”

“Why are you refusing my summoning?” Nuada argued over him, “I called for you. Is it not your job to care for me?”

Now John looked unimpressed, eyebrows dropping into a flat line as his eyes narrowed.

Humans had so many tells. Frankly, it wasn’t surprising how John Myers had managed to slip such a secret past a government agency.

“Yes Prince Nuada, but it’s only one of my many jobs. So if it’s not urgent, I’ll be with you shortly” John bargained, and it made Nuada curious.

Quickly, before the human could react, he pressed his hand against the door and slipped into the room.

There was no one else there. The lights weren’t even on, which indicated that John wanted secrecy.

“Nuada!” John fumed, having stumbled from the doorway, “what are you doing!”

Turning quickly, he looked John over and hummed. He was fidgety. Another one of his tells.

“No, I believe the question is, what are you doing?”

He watched him squirm, shuffling his shoulders and moving his hands about. But he didn’t answer.

“Hiding in the dark hmm, what are you up to human?” Nuada demanded, keeping his voice quiet. He didn’t want to be interrupted by more of them.

John shook his head, mouth struggling to form words, and Nuada had seen enough.

Quickly, he strode over to the powering down terminal and tapped the keys, awakening it again. As the screen lit up, he heard John’s rushing footsteps-

“-I just don’t know what’s gotten into him?” a woman’s voice said through the monitor, and Nuada watched as three figures moved about. Instantly, he recognised the room. It was the dreaded labs his sister and he had awoken in.

“So what!” clearly Hellboys voice said, abrasive as usual and louder than the rest, “we’ve all got our secrets!. Let Myers sort it out. If he needs our help-”

“Red- that’s not it. He’s-he’s hurting. And John is our friend, need I remind you. He’s saved our lives countless times. He needs us!” a softer male voice said.

Behind him, John had stopped his advance and it was puzzling enough that Nuada cast a raised brow over his shoulder, watching to see what he would do.

Nothing, it would seem. John stayed away, wavering on the spot like he was just as interested in hearing what the three had to say.

“We can all tell. He’s different, somehow. I don’t know what’s bugging him Red, but we need to sort it out” Liz finished and on the screen, she walked out of frame.

Not caring to see more, Nuada straightened and turned away from it. Some friendships were trivial at best and he would not involve himself in such matters. But when he glanced at John, he certainly looked bothered by the words, frame heavy and tired.

And for once, Nuada held his tongue.

“Very well, I will call on you in the morning.”

Perhaps he’d try tomorrow, he thought, stepping around John.

“-Nuada” John interrupted before he got a few feet away. “What did you need?”

When Nuada looked back at him, John was still staring at the computer screen. But if he wanted to offer his assistance, Nuada would take it.

“I wish to speak with you in private. I will not have my words echoed through your human devices”

Oddly, John’s head dipped, like he’d been expecting it, but he followed, and the sound of his loud foot falls behind him did not make the prickling feeling along his back dampen.

Perhaps it was because, now he knew just how dangerous John Myers could be, if he so chose.

On base, there was rarely a quiet space that wasn’t either monitored by a camera or microphone, let alone the unneeded foot patrols.

And it was, as fate would decide it, the moment something exploded.

They heard the boom first, causing them to throw their arms out for balance as the corridor shook. There was a beat of silence- and then the siren started, the red light eliminating everything.

“What the hell!” Someone shouted, much further away, but they payed them no mind. It was John who turned their focus, face going slack and pale as they quickly realised the sound had come from below.

“Abe!”

With desperation chasing their heels, John managed to beat Nuada to the stairwells door but was half shoved through it their haste.

The explosion had happened further down. And last he’d checked, Nuala wasn’t in her room.

Nuada didn’t bother with the stairs, leaping the railing and plunging down between the handrails, landing at the bottom and sprinted out of sight.

It took John longer, taking the stairs as quick as he could, jumping a few when he thought it wise.  

On one landing, he managed to twist his ankle, just missing smacking his head on the far wall. The pain was minute compared to the sheer panic in his chest and he dragged himself on, getting to the bottom in what felt like several minutes after Nuada

Arrived at the labs, John felt like he’d walked into a post apocalyptic scene. It was in ruin.

Some of the right wall was completely caved in, a gaping hole of concrete and brick. Under it was one of Abe’s cubby holes he often used to sneak naps in. The bed was gone, the bookcase beside it smashed and half buried.

John heard himself make a helpless gasp, unable to take in the full wreckage of the scene. He couldn’t see Abe anywhere.

“Ah-a” John tried to speak, terror and the visible floating dust clogging his throat. He didn’t know what he’d do if-

 “ABE!”

When no answer came, John shouted again, chocking on the name. He stumbled forward, uncaring what he stood on so long as he could find him. “Abe!-ABE!”

“-Be quiet you fool!” a voice hissed and John swung his head to the left. Nuada.

“I’m trying to listen!”

Whether it was the no nonsense look Nuada was using, or the way he urgently pressed his ear to the crumbling wall, it had John shut his mouth instantly.

 “They’ll here, behind this!” Nuada urged, standing sharply and eyeing the mess. It was similar to the rest of the room. However, on this side, there was a concealed escape tunnel that was once blocked by a fake wall.

The issue was that it looked like, as the wall had closed back over, it had taken damage and crumbled. They just didn’t know how far in it had tumbled.

Blind panic took over, the two of them grabbing chunks of rock and throwing it to the side, hefting bits too big for one to carry.

Eventually, they made a small groove in the opening, big enough for them both to peek through. And it was clear that there was a pocket of emptiness just an arm’s reach away.

“Nuala!” Nuada half howled into the small opening and John’s throat clenched with shared fear.

“Her-“ a voice cried dimly, and Nuada dropped flat to the floor,  tilt his head. “-ere!” the voice answered again, then began coughing and hacking.

At Nuada’s right shoulder, the tips of pale fingers appeared between a small gap, no bigger than John’s hand. At once, Nuada began reaching for rocks higher up, but couldn’t stop the pile of rubble from shift, causing the fingers to disappear back to safety.  

“Nuada don’t!” John urged, hand hovering in the air and ready to stop him in case he disturbed it anymore.  It was clear that anymore movement could send it either way.

“We-“ Nuada gasped, eyes wild as he surveyed the rock. “We have to get to her. They’re just-they’re right here!”

John couldn’t agree more, but Nuada’s tampering with the rocks had shrank the hole greatly. Slowly lying as flat as he could on the floor to stare into the gap where the fingers had first appeared, John called , “Nuala”.

Something moved within the tunnel, and powdered dusk erupted into his face, forcing him to grind his eyes shut against it. Several seconds went by with no answer. Even Nuada had turned to look at him, waiting to see John’s solution.

Fingertips peeked out, bending around one of the newly disturbed rocks, and John grabbed them without thinking. Nothing moved, thankfully.

“Nuala, is Abe with y-”

Something like dread and exhilaration raced through him, from the centre of his mind to the base of his spine.  He felt the touch of her pale cold fingers dig into the meat of his palm…and he was filled with light.

Nuala was pushing her emotions into him, trying to speak the best way she could at that moment.

-Relief, fear, dread, pain- the redness of her pain discolouring his vision- and joy-

The flurry of emotions made his head spin, causing his chin to dip and touch the gritty floor.

“Nu-Nuala- I can” he began to say, but that was wrong, so he tried again. “We can get you out of here!” He said, nose now pressed into a brick as he scooted as close as he could get.  

“It’s Abe!”

Above his head, the rocks groaned under their own  weight…and John didn’t move.

Chapter 5

Notes:

Sorry this so late...didnt realise a month had passed. I've started a new job so fully focused on that atm :)

“It’s Abe!”

It was if she was there, right in front of him, clear as a bell. And the dread filled him again, flashing between their joint hands. Abe-Abe was hurt!

“His poor leg!” here she must have turned, possibly to sooth Abe, but her hand stayed.  “Please, you must help him!”

“We will! We’re here, Nuada is here! We’ll get you out!”

“Oh- please!” she begged, and it hurt to hear her like that. She was never supposed to sound so helpless.  

Behind him, Nuada hissed a breath in through his teeth. John looked back at him, causing an odd angle for his neck, and saw Nuada glaring at him.

And John knew in an instance what Nuada was about to say next.

“You can move this. You can get them out” Nuada chided, “You can. I’ve-“

Here, he stopped himself. Possibly because he knew John didn’t want it mentioned. What Nuada had seen in the cave had been the only instance of someone witnessing –him-his power…

Well…seeing it, and then living through it.

The cave had been a rare moment where his emotions had all worked together for one goal.

To save Nuada

It was a clumsily attempt and the cave had still collapsed, but John had managed to stall the inevitable long enough for Nuada to finish saving himself.

This was more dangerous than he was willing to test.

“Nuada” his voice quivered and he swallow. “I don’t think it’ll work. I’m-“-the dread of having to admit –possibly in his great moment of need- that he wasn’t skilled enough to control it, made his soul feel small.

He wouldn’t be able to move the rubble, not safely anyway. Anything could go wrong. They could be crushed by the rocks in the second he took hold, or worse, his power could touch them and finish the job. And that was something he could not live with.

For a second, he imagined he saw Nuada’s foot twitch, and realised he was about to get a boot to the side of his ribs. But it didn’t happen, and carefully, Nuada lent up and started poking at rocks.

One of the hardest things he’d had to do today was uncurl his fingers from around Nuala’s seeking grip, and telling her to pull her hand back. While it all may be temporary safety, it was what they could work with for now. So together, they worked painstakingly slow, clearing the rubble inch by inch.

“Why has no one come?” Nuada raged at a random interval, and John couldn’t answer him.

He’d thought that too, but then realised that if no one had come down to check what the boom had been, there was probably greater trouble elsewhere. Probably somewhere where he was meant to be. And he ignored that thought, focusing on Abe and Nuala’s quite whispering to each other.

At one point, a wave of rocks rolled towards them and Nuada had grabbed him back, just in time to spare him facial surgery in the future.  

“Careful” Nuada reprimanded, but it was weaker, no longer authoritative.

John caught a look at Nuada’s hands, and saw the tips had become cracked and marred just like his own. Nuada saw him looking, and his lips tensed into a thin line, warning enough that John turned back to their task.

Eventually, they reached Nuala and Abe. The opening was small, barely large enough for John never mind Nuada as well, who crowed behind his shoulder, leaning around him as far as he could to reach out and take Nuada’s hand. To stabilise the entry, they had to get some of the broken furniture from the room, wedging it to try and build an opening. 

When he looked in, John saw Abe first. His lower legs were buried and he’d fell unconscious, head dusted with white powder and bleeding from a scrape. It was the flick of Nuala’s hair, the white whip of it as her head turned towards them that had John crawling in before Nuada.

It was only a small surprise that Nuada didn’t drag him back out by his feet, but John was the smaller of the two. And should anything go wrong….

Rocking his hips to shift himself further in, John bumped his shoulder into a rock. Thankfully, it didn’t move, but it was solid, reminding him of the pressure in the enclosed space, the intense amplification of his rapid breathing,  too close to ignore. It made his heart beat pick up, but John pushed on, pushing with the tips of his toes to slide in closer.

It was probably driving Nuada insane, not being able to fit in as well, but they needed him on the outside.

When John reached them, Nuala laid a shaking hand on his forearm and giving him a watery smile. Clearly, shock had settled in and bleaching any colour from her pale face and lips. Now, she looked like a ghost, cradling her lost love and trying to hold on.

“Are you hurt?” John asked, quickly blowing out air to push away the dust trying to choke him.

“No” she shook her head, but the sleeve of her dress had blood on, too red to be Abe’s.

“I’ve been trying to wake him…but he’s not waking up!” Nuala continued, voice going high and watery.

“It’s ok. He’ll be ok” John confirmed and saw her lips twitch, “We’ll get him out”.

“Will you?” Nuala urged. The wording was too intentional to be misleading.

Her eyes were red rimmed, probably from crying and the rain of dust coming down from above their heads.  It made him crawl closer on hands and knees, stones digging into him. But what type of a question was that. Of course he would. He’d do anything-

…anything…

When he looked back at her, finally understanding, her lower lip was wobbling, like she knew-

And John felt like a coward then, through and through. He-he couldn’t risk it. Not Abe. Not poor Abe, who loved his friends and had welcomed John, regardless of the peek inside his head that had only resulted in a shrug of his shoulders.

He’d never told John what he’s seen. And no one had questioned it. To everyone, Abe was as happy to have John as he was to have any fellow agent.

It was Abe!- who was laying so still that John, inevitably, thought of Joe.

Poor Joe. Poor, broken, dead Joe.

“…ok”

Without question, she settled Abe down and wiggled around, until they’d managed to swap positions.

“Nuala…I-I need you out of here. I can’t risk it collapsing -” he paused, letting humour tug at the edge of his lips. “I think Nuada would dig me out just to kill me”.

She didn’t smile at that, not that John had expected her to, but she did shuffle backwards out the hole.

Finally, it was just him and Abe, alone and yet together.

Accepting that this might go wrong, John did the best he could with his frayed nerves. In his mind, he took up the mantra of ‘Please, not Abe. Let this work- Please, not Abe. Let this work’

When he reached inwards for his power, it was like holding onto a slippery bar of soap. Too much pressure and it would shoot off. Too little and it fell through your fingers.

Next he tried breathing, but it only made him hyper aware of how close everything was. Never mind the dust still settling.

If he was to admit it to himself, he was scared. Abe hadn’t made a peep and one wrong pulse from his power would collapse the rest of the rubble on top of them, finishing the job.

But Abe wasn’t going anywhere like this, and John set his jaw, determined.

He reached as far down Abe’s body as he could, picking up Abe’s webbed hand, holding it. The skin was dry and scaled like a fish, bony and thin, odd enough that it made John smile sadly.

This was Abe, his friend.

And he was going to save him or-or die trying.

With his resolve forming, he imagined the rest of Abe’s shape. From his round head, he imagined a thin veil flowing around him. It swept down his long arms, slinked past his stomach and hip-

-It was like coming up against a wall when he got to Abe’s legs. They were still buried under the rocks.

For this, John tried something different.

He continued down the trail, letting the veil of power press-gently- against the rock. Dust hisses as it started to spill in the gap he’s created, and he froze, not going any further. He waited the agonising seconds-minutes-for it to settle, and then tried again.

The veil stopped a few loose stones from bouncing on Abe’s face. They hovered inches from Abe’s nose, rolling as if suspended in space. It was unnerving, so he quickly pushed them aside with his hand.

It felt like no progress at all, minutes going by like water down the drain as he slowly pushed against the space where Abe’s legs should be. When he managed to get them free, John had to brush off clumps of dirt that had stuck to any bleeding wounds.

For sanity sake, John didn’t look too long at the legs, one of Abe’s ankles seemed turned just a little too far. Instead, he stared back towards the opening; kneeling on either side of Abe should any rocks come loose. He pulled gently and then-muttering an apology – as he pulled harder, finally getting Abe moving.

Holding onto the veil was too much work now, sweat breaking out on his forehead that he had to give it up. Nerves were making him work faster-the invisible weight of the rocks growing stronger over seconds.

Push-pull- closer- almost there…

Nuala’s sharp cry startled him when he managed to push Abe’s head out, but thankfully- fuck-thankfully, he held on.

They were nearly there.

Their little tunnel of safety was beginning to make some worrying noises. When he nervously glanced at the opening, Nuada had his head and arm in, halfway to the elbow.  It made John want to warn him to get back, images of Jesse-the looper- wavering at the edges of his mind. The mess he’d made of the man when-

“Myers!”

-He didn’t want to hurt anybody-

“John-hurry!”

Like a slap to the face, Nuada’s voice snapped him back to the present.

The urgency in the tone made him go faster. It was only as dust clouded his vision, that he realised what was happening.

He was losing his grip on his power.  

He saw Nuada’s eyes widen, his features pinched along with John’s as pain cut razorblade stripes down his back. One of his legs stopped moving, quickly getting stuck under the falling side of their hole.

The sound, he -he’d never forget.

Like sand, slowly trickling. A reminder of the hourglass of life- and then a break- a second of silence- and then…the tidal wave of pebbles and dust spilled down. It filled his mouth, it blinded his eyes, it filled his senses with dread and the sound of death.

Perhaps he was meant to die this way. This was the second time he’d put himself between a rock and a hard place and now fate had come to collect.

But Abe- Abe!- he had to hold onto-

“Abraham!”

There was a commotion at the holes entrance, but John couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. Ash and dust coated his tongue and he coughed it up. It was too much. The pressure was winning, the weight of the rubble start to squeeze the air out of him as it dug into his back.

Slowly, the light of the opening was fading.

There was a roaring in his ears, or maybe it was above him. He wasn’t sure. Everything was collapsing and his mind kept screaming that he was trapped. Trying to lessen the damage, John dug his feet into the shifting ground, eyes straining to see Abe be pulled free by valiantly pale hands.

A rock next to his head cracked and began shaking, some smaller stones picking up the motion that had his chest seize in terror. His power was swelling out, ready to explode, reaching and trying to weave through the space in the rocks. It was causing a sharp tugging in his gut, his stomach bottoming out and he shut his eyes against the feeling of it.

 “John!”

Someone was shouting, panting like they were out of breath. Hands were grabbing him, bloody and worn-his back dragging painfully over some of the loose rubble-

Air!- It shot into his lungs, and instantly he rolled to his side, coughing his lungs out. He tried to look- to find Abe!- and it hurt. Grit still sat between the slits of his eyes and he weakly flopped his arms, wanting to wipe them.

The motioned seemed to turn his hearing on, catching – “-stubborn fool!-” and words spoken to fast to understand.

He took no further notice, rolling to his other side and closer to one of his working hands to feebly wipe at his eyes. The touch felt like sharp gravel, and John scrubbed harder, trying to get it out-and had his hand smacked away.

“-fool!”

“Hush!-”

Briefly, John could see, though he was concerned by the wavering view, he saw Nuada sat next to him, panting and holding his arm like it hurt.

Nuala was next to him, quietly and delicately tapping the edge of her dress to Abe’s bleeding head.

From his stupefied sprawl, John reached up and tapped at his own chest.

He was alive. And while his heart was still trying to catch on, he himself was breathless.

“How?”

Next to him, Nuada –very menacingly- turned to look at him. “I grabbed you, before it caved”.

That explained the hold of his arm.

Shoes squeaked in the doorway and together, they saw a young faced woman in a skirt run into view, bracketing the doorway.

“Oh my god!” She exclaimed upon seeing them and the room.

And yep, that was exactly how John was feeling at that moment. He was lucky to be alive. And he promised himself…never again.

It was too dangerous to use.

“Sir” the woman continued, and John realised he knew her. Angelica Avros, secondary desk personnel for the prisoner’s ward. And if she was off her post, that meant-

“Sir, the explosion-the prisoners!- Manning wants all hands on deck”

She took a look around the room and eyed John himself, assessing how injured he might be.

“I’ll radio for med-vac for Abe. John, you ok?”

That was a tricky question. He didn’t know.

“Yeah” He answered anyways and tried to roll onto his side…and failed. He just needed a minute, catch his breath. And well, it seemed like everyone was waiting for him, so he took it while he had the chance.

Quietly, the feeling of relief grew in his chest until he felt filled with it. He was alive! He was so stupidly grateful to Nuada that he had half a mind to turn and thank him-

“I’m ready” Nuada cut across all that, standing up. He’d fashioned a quick brace with some loose wood and woven cloth to his wrist. Looking at it, John felt unmoored.

But his time was up, so he forced his wobbly legs to bear his weight, cautiously rising next to Nuada, and had the joy of feeling all the scrapes along his back and legs. Walking to the door was not easy, or pretty, but no one commented.  

“Don’t worry John” Angela answered his unspoken question when he looked back at Nuala, “I’ll stay here with them and guard the door”. From the back of her skirt, she pulled out her issued firearm, a small standard gun, and pulled back the safety. The click was ominously loud in the now still room, like it didn’t belong.

He had to go, so he stumbled to the stairs where Nuada had decided to wait for him. He was not going to like running back up the flights he’d previously come down from.

Chapter 6

Notes:

OMG i had really bad writers block for months- then my laptop started dying so got a new one- and couldn't log in FOR MONTHS.

SORRY!

“I-“ John gasped, “need to work- out more”

Panting, he licked his dry lips and tasted powered concrete. He was still covered in it. Sadly, he’d had to resort to dragging himself up by the railing, having to stop every few flights. It didn’t help that Nuada was casting disgusted looks at him for his slowness.

“Are all humans so slow?”

“You know- what Nuada” John huffed, “Yes!” he cried, “Yes they are when-when they - oh god- when they nearly die- and run up this many- flights”.

By the time they reached their floor, Nuada cockily held the door for him, waiting for John to agonizingly shuffle through it. His thighs were burning when he stumbled towards the holding cells.

“Myers? Where the hell-WHAT THE HELL!”

John excessively waved his hand at Agent Jones, who was rushing towards John like he might grab hold and demand what’d happened to him.

“Update?” John asked, and didn’t respond to the nudge off Nuada as he passed. While Nuada was too proud to ask questions, he clearly wanted to be informed.

“Well, we’re right up our necks John. Don’t know what-ever-the-fuck that was but that boom sure knocked a few wires loose. Got half the guys and gals holding down the exits and the rest taming the wild folk”

Jones wiped at his grey brow and took the time to eye John again. “To be honest John, we don’t have enough men. Need em in the thick of it”.
The message was loud and clear. Although he looked like crap, he was not going to be spared.

“On it” John responded, nodding to Nuada, following the prince towards the cells.

When they were far enough away, Nuada turned to him, “ So am I to understand” he twisted his spear in-hand, “that I am to assist?”

They’d been over this before. But no matter how many times he’d bribed, begged and, eventually ordered, Nuada always did things his way.

“Yes” John breathed, “Yes Prince Nuada. We need your help. Us feeble humans need the help of the Elvin folk and call on our once truce, asking you to aid us” John realised he’d been waving his arms and stopped. “Please”

The top of the spear thumped flat side against his shoulder and John couldn’t help eyeing it.

“Very well. If only because it is the Veer and you asked with a formal request”.

With that, Nuada was off down the corridor, swinging left and then gone. If John listened hard, he could hear gruff grunts and groans as Nuada incapacitated prisoners.

And just prisoners…he hoped.

John wouldn’t be surprised if he came across an unconscious agent or two. Nuada wasn’t picky with who he knocked out. And some Agents still weren’t pleased to have him on the team.

“What the hell is that damned elf talking about John?” Jones demanded, angrily wiping his face. It was clear that he didn’t like Nuada, and John imagined it was because he made Jones’s team look like they were moving under water.

“Veer’s, its Nuada’s little term of ‘endearment’ he’s given to the lower folk”

“Eh?”Jones huffed, now going over to the vacant computer, watching the video feeds.

“Never mind. Do you have a spare radio?”

Finally, John was fitted with a radio, a bag of zip ties, a gun and a stab vest-useful for the harpies- and followed the trail of bodies.

He took his time, zipping the arms and legs of loose prisoners that had been downed.

When he’d caught up to Nuada, he’d wedged himself out of view in the cell blocks, eyeing the Agents with a visible sneer as they dumped prisoners as quick as they could.

“Nuada” John jogged up to him, holding up his radio, “They got Abe to the med wing without any trouble. He’ll gonna be fine”
“I do not recall asking after him”

It was like whiplash, John's spine snapping straight at how quickly Nuada’s mood had soured.

And the comment was... nastier than usual, worse than some of the things Nuada had said to him before. Faintly, John tried not to let himself feel hurt by it and remind himself that this was still Nuada and to not get his hopes up over…over a near death experience.

But he had, sadly.

“O-ok” he finished lamely. Nuada's response had clearly shut down any further conversation.
The words to invite Nuada to the Med Wing crawled up his throat, and he stopped them, not wanting to deal with any more nasty comments. He was tired, and messy and just plain uncomfortable and he didn’t want him around Abe if he was going to be like this.

Turning, he left Nuada there, ignoring the penetrating stare on his back. An hot itch started between his shoulder blades and John had to square his shoulders to push the discomfort away. It was his usual custom after missions to try and prod Nuada for where he'd be later. Whether for mission briefs or to assess for injuries but this time, he didn’t want to know.

He got to the lifts just as two Agents got out, leaving him alone to valiantly dodge Nuada's assessing gaze enough for the doors to close and cut off the sight. In the reflective mirror, he tried to tidy himself up but it was a wasted effort. Half of his uniform was grey and black, his cheek sporting a mighty bruise, the discoloration reaching up to his eye that hurt when he pressed against it.

He didn’t know how he was going to explain his appearance. His looked clammy and pale, his eyes dull with hazy sheen and –and he was shaking.

“Oh god” John hissed at his reflection and shut his eyes. Not now, he was not crashing now. He needed to get to Abe, get a strong pain killer and then maybe collapse into a spare bed.

Not here, alone in the lift’s where some unlucky admin could witness his collapse on the cameras and advertise it to all the medical personnel.

It was grating on his nervous and stamina, waiting for the floors to tick by, but he made it.

His appearance must have raised a few eyebrows, as he wasn’t stopped when he walked into the med wing, looking around for Abe.

It was Nuala he saw first, standing next to Abe’s bed and stroking his webbed hand. They were talking quietly, Abe saying something and making Nuala smile wide.

It was a sweet moment, broken by Abe when he spotted John lurking on the edge of their space.

“John” Abe greeted, trying to sit up and groaning in pain when he couldn’t.

“Abe” John reprimanded, coming closer so Abe didn’t have to move. “How’s the legs?” he asked, only because he couldn’t ignore Abe’s legs, currently suspended in slings set high at the end of the bed, his feet wrapped in cloth.

“Ah” Abe hummed, waving at hand encouragingly, “nothing broken, just some bruising, to be expected”.

“See, knew you were the strong one out of you and Hellboy” John grinned-and cringed at the spark of pain in his face.
It made them chuckle that Abe hummed, pleased, and said “Naturally” with a daintily wave of his webbed hand.

It was such an Abe gesture, that John felt faint with relief.

Behind him, John heard someone clear their throat. When he turned, it was Dr Alana Parker, a file in her hand and a raised brow for him.

“Myers” she droned, “you’re not looking so good”. With slow deliberate movement, she pointed him to a bed further in. “Sit”.
With little energy to spare, John went to the indicated bed without a word. He’d come to realise that arguing never got you anywhere in the med wing.

“How long have you been like this boy-o?” she asked, pulling out her pen light and clicking the tip. John saw her turn it up, flashing it into his eyes- the flash encompassing everything-

-and then he was gone- floating in the white nothingness, as it gradually ebbed to blackness.

Chapter 7

Notes:

Sorry-writers block if kicking me down again. I'm also sick at the moment with covid. :(
I've dodged it for over 2 years, but that's what working in the NHS gets you. Oh well. Let me know what you think and point out any spelling errors and such please.

“I met a man. He put a gun in my hand. Gave me something that was mine”.

“Baby! I need you to go, I need you to run!”

For a moment, John was sure that he heard the sound of the wind, blowing through his mothers corn fields. The leaves flapping in the wind, snapping and breaking as he barrelled through them for safety. Far off, there was a sound of a crows caw. And finally, the crack of a gun, loud and booming. Just like he remembered.

The voices overlapped, twining, one over the other, and John…he missed his mom….he missed Joe.

He didn’t miss their old home, broken and bloody. The windows blown out. The curtains stained in red splotches. He remembered his mom holding his hand, telling him it was ok, they’d get a new house.

But Joe. There was no way to get a new Joe.

--

Nuada did not like this. The waiting, his own…turmoil over the situation. He’d already summarised several ways to turn such a circumstances to his advantage, and his own lack of action was frustrating, more so that he felt Nuala probing around the edges of the feeling....

 He’d left her with her sapien and gone to the library. He didn’t Again, he had not planned for anything to do once he arrived, and had stood at the bookshelf, convicing his troubled thoughts that this was all he was here for.

And that was part of problem.

He’d reacted- one tug and the human had been freed. He’d saved his life….and now he was left to wonder why he’d acted so foolishly. It was unbecoming of a prince. Humans died so easily. This one was no different.

Nuala, gratefully, hadn’t asked him why he’d saved John Myers life. The annoying human. His caretaker and Nanny. Just the thought of those titles made his teeth grind. He was a spy!-Nuada had known it the moment the humans had placed him as his caregiver- to document, to notify and track should Nuada decide today was the day for ending humanity.

Saving the human had been counterproductive to his plans. So now, he’d have to make new ones.

For the time being, the human was at least saved from himself, sedated and treated in the healing room. It gave Nuada time to go through the humans things.

Looking down, he surveyed the messy desk. Instead of quills, there were ugly plastic things to write with. No parchment or scrolls in sight.

Overturning the books on the table, Nuada did not find anything to tell him why the human was as he is. What gave him that power! An amulet? Stolen Wiccan powers? Potions?!

But Nuada had suspected long ago that, as alike Elizabeth Sherman, his caretaker had grown with his powers from birth. But how? Why were so few born so? How did they come to be?

From what he’d seen of the humans, they did not know of Myers powers. Which was perfectly fine for Nuada to use against them. Like all things, this was just one more weapon he would hide up his sleeve, and wait for his moment.

“Brother?”

Startled and instantly embarrassed for it, Nuada spun on the soles of his feet, ready to face an attacker.

In the doorway, Nuala stood still, eyeing him in veiled delight. It was not often she snuck up on him. But she had tried, plenty of times. That she’d caught him now, red handed while riffling through someone’s desk, was not ideal.

The smirk twisting her lips informed him that she too knew the timing was in her favour.

“Yes dear sister” Nuada answered, shoving the desk back together. It did not matter. It had looked worse before.

“What are you looking for?” Nuala queried gently, stepping further into the room and closer to the desk. There was nothing there to find, so Nuada did not worry about what she may gleam from his looking.

Tracking his eyes to the corner of the room, Nuada eyed the security camera. The blasted things were everywhere, watching and listening, spying on their own and their guests, looking for secrets and ferreting out lies. Or edited to make them.

He considered the possibility of speaking freely. There would be dire consequences for the human. But there would be more questions of him, and what he knew, so he held his tongue and stepped forward to meet Nuala. Without thought, he raised his hand, as hers rose too, and pressed an open palm to hers.

Relief. Serenity. Caution. Worry. Fear. They flowed like a river through the bond, some stronger than others. Nuada pushed back with his own. Annoyance. Curiosity. Frustration. Confusion. His thoughts were harder to organise this way, as the bond often mixed with each of their emotions and responses, but he tried.

He felt her open the bond as wide as it would go, perhaps like an eye, trying to catch the details. He showed her what he’d witnessed from the human. The cave-in, the rough touch of the rocks as they hovered above and all around him. The human, hand outstretched and quivering-holding his potential death at bay!-

The connection wavered as Nuala’s emotions spiked- but she was distracting him, her curiosity building, twisting around the bond and muddying his thoughts.

Quickly, he cupper her cheek with his other hand and pressed forward, gently putting his forehead to hers. Like this, it was easier.

Next, he picked their encounter in the gardens. The human had been afraid, but not of what Nuada would do to him. No. It was spoken words that he feared. Nuada would have liked to say he gloated, that he’d enjoyed it, having something to hold over the man….but-

No. He would not go there, not now, not while they are so closely linked.

Emotions crashed over him, and now it was his turn to gasp.

Joy, glee, relief-gasp- safety, warmth-protection-

Nuada pulled his hands back, not quite ripping away, but he could not hide the quiver of his fingers. Once, before he’d left, before the Golden Army, before his argument with father…he’d given her that. Those feelings.

“Brother” Nuala whispered, bowing her head in apology, “Please remember that he has protected us. Words cannot express the gratitude I owe, but his acceptance is selfless”.

Yes, Nuada had sat through Myers little check list for food and items he wanted at the start.

“Goodnight brother” Nuala pulled the top of her skirt into her hand, briskly walking to the door and then through it, leaving him alone with the echoes of her thoughts and words.

His mouth opened, ready to call her back to talk, but felt the bond close over slightly. She did not want to remain, traces of concern and warmth-no doubt for her sapien- fluttered back to him as she closed the door.

Fine. He was no simpering fool. He would find his answers. But only after those pesky humans left Myers alone for 10 minutes. They had been in quite a hurry after Myers had flopped back on the bed, shouting about vitals and-normal levels. Nuada had not cared for their words at the time.

Now, he would see about his answers.

Glancing at the desk once more, Nuada’s eyes locked on the computer. And he remembered then,  Myers had been watching the video of his friends, discussing between themselves. Hiding secrets. That was Nuada’s lead.

--

“He-llo” John croaked and coughed. He’d woken only a few moments ago, the room empty with only the ticking clock on the wall for noise.

Everyone else seemed to have gone to bed for the night. He was alone.

And he was so tiredly grateful for it, comfortable and resting on the stiff mattress, the plastic sheet under him warm from his body heat. It was nice. He even allowed himself to feel the rough cotton sheet, running it through his fingers like he’d used to with him mothers, curled up in bed with her but not able to sleep.

She’d been so tired when he was kid, working in the fields all the time, cutting wood from that silly little stump in the backyard.

After the...tragedy, she’d used their new found money to get a new house built on the farm, and after a few months of cleaning the old on out, a team of contractors had deconstructed it.  

They’d lived well. And she continued to work on the farm. The homeschooling continued, his teen years a blur as he’d learned to quite his mind and body with manual labour, older and stronger to help her with the farm.

And for years, it’d felt like a bubble, safe and secure and completely transparent. There was always the danger of what if, a needle waiting in the dark distant future to pop it and change everything.

Eventually, they’d worked on his ‘thing’. His outbursts had come less and less with growing up, Sara reading him every book under the sun for anger and feelings management.

Now, laying in the hospital bed, John wondered how he’s come to be here. The glaringly obvious answer was Professor Broom. The old man must have known something. Hell, John had tripped over himself for the change at the job, and Broom had held the door open for him.

Sighing, John settled himself back. He was going to need to talk with the others.

After this, things would be different, feel different. They would know. Abe would tell Liz and Hellboy and Red couldn’t keep his mouth shut at the best of times. All John had was to count the days by conversations, waiting for the one that had every other agent looking at him like a freak. An other. Strange and not like them.

It made his heart ache thinking about it, so he sighed again and rolled over, intent of getting back to sleep.

“Mr Myers?”

Chapter 8

Notes:

Sorry for the very long delay. Sadly my dad was diagnosed with cancer and passed away in September so I've been very abscent here. Just trying to get back into the swing of things so bear with me a little....:)

The voice startled him, loud and unfamiliar-and then suddenly- familiar. He twisted on the bed, catching sight of the side tables contents jolting like it had been kicked, and saw Simmons glance down at it too.

The room stayed silent, and John couldn’t speak, mind working overtime as his thoughts screeched like run away trains in his head, crashed together on ways to explain-

It was Simmons, eyes jumping back to his and his utter lack of concern that made John freeze. He didn’t know what that look meant.

 “I’m sorry to bother you sir. Mr Manning sent me to get an incident report”

John tried to discretely sit up in the bed, scrambling for precious moments that would allow him to think. Manning. Again. And the more times there were wayward agents sent to chase him down, the more John wonderer. What did he know?

Simmons was still stood in the doorway. John waved him over and tried not to look too relieved when Simmons didn’t hesitate to sit in the hard plastic chair next to him. He even pulled a pen out his pocket and clicked it cheerily, hovering over the paper and waited for John to start.

Incident reports where only taken so quickly if there were matters of unusual circumstances at base.

And John was left feeling like a deer in the headlights, waiting for the car.

“If you like Sir, we can start by verify that the origin of the explosion came from the prisoner holding block. It damaged some key infrastructure. We’re unsure which of the Supes started it, or how, but we’re quickly narrowing down the culprits”

John nodded along numbly, fingers rubbing the line of the bedding.

“But...there was the issue of other locations being affecting, namely the unfortunate accident with Agent Sapien that we need to go over”

And John felt his ribs relax. They suspected something amiss, but had no idea of the what. Which was fine with him, personally, as he didn’t really know what had happened either. At least that part didn’t have to be a lie. But the rest...

 He just hoped his poker face was enough, his explanation just and with the suspicion to stay fixed on the suspects of the act.

“Well”

----

With little time to spare for Agents hold up in a hospital bed, Manning decided that after a day of rest, John was well enough to get back into the fold. This being, another mission.

John had taken his time that morning getting himself dressed, and with each piece of clothing, the knot in his stomach tightened. He wondered if Hellboy had already started blabbering his mouth, if he was biding his time to finally throw John in the deep end.

Perhaps Abe hadn’t told him. But no, he definitely would have told Liz. And John just couldn’t stop the dreaded thoughts from building, making him feel sick as he finally left his room to go find his friends.

Thankfully, he wasn’t approached as he walked down the main corridor, Agents already busy rushing to and fro to get where they needed to be. And no one looked at him. He wished it settled his nerves more for what was to come.  

By the time he made it to Hellboys room, his stomach wasn’t as wound so tightly, so he could only brace himself when large door clanked loudly on opening, and he heard-

“Dont you dare Red!” Liz shouted.

“I wasn’t gunna-!”

“Dont start with me. I know what you were about to do!”

With a resigned sigh, John stepped into the room, hardly able to back out now that the door was fully open and the room occupants already turning to look-

“John!- Thank god!” Liz said, her smile relieved as she came over, grabbing his forearm and tugging him further into the room...and into the argument. “At least I have someone on my side now!” She challenged and the red skin of Hellboys face seemed to burn a deeper scarlet.

“Hey! That’s not fair!- if anything” he waved his hand up and down at John, “ I think he should be on my side!”.

The argument continued on from there, with Liz still pinching the left sleeve of John’s jacket and Hellboy waving erratically at him. And John didn’t know how to broach the topic of the argument, so he stayed quiet, waiting for some clue as to what it was about.    

Silence was always best with Red and Liz’s arguments, which had begun to pick up in frequency lately. But this...it sounded too loaded. It could be about anything! But John secretly, cowardly, hoped it wasn’t about that one thing.

“So tell him then!” Liz finally shouted, inches from Hellboys face...and John’s sleeve burst into flames.

The argument was quickly forgotten in place of John’s startled yelp and trying to rip his jacket off as Hellboy smacked at the flame and Liz ran for the sink. It took seconds to put out, but John now had one less jacket to his name, now discarded in a sad heap on Hellboys carpet, and Liz profusely apologising.

“Its ok. C-can we just get to the discussing mission parameters?!”

Liz’s mouth snapped shut and she crossed her arms over her chest, side eyeing Hellboy who now looked begrudgingly serious.

“We need to head to the troll market. Our intelligence agents have picked up word that the device used for the recent explosion was made there. One of the prisoners finally talked so we have a lead.  We’ve put out some sniffers as a pre-emptive measure to see if anything else trickles in, but so far the markets being quiet”

Already, Hellboys posture was much more engaged, eyes alight with glee, causing Liz to tighten already crossed arms.

They both knew what it meant when Hellboy got that look on his face. The term Manning liked to use was ‘Incidents’. But John personally phrased it as AMOP....A mountain of paperwork. It was his curse to bear being team lead on missions now that Clay was put to other areas of work by Manning.

Silently, John started to rotate his right wrist, anticipating the amount of writing he would no doubt be doing soon.

“What about Abe” Liz questioned, and that was a good point. He still had broken legs, so walking was out of the question, and they did have a lot of ground to cover and supernatural’s to question.

The huff that followed came from behind him, and John’s pulse leapt with it, spinning to face-

“So your petty highnessness” Hellboy drawled, “you gonna grace us with your presence on this one?”

Nuada did not answer Hellboy, but his lips went flat, their dark pigment bleaching. But thankfully, it didn’t break out into a verbal spat, so John jumped in first.

“Nuada. Yes” He pressed his hands down his shirt nervously. Past experience had shown that Nuada did not take orders from anyone, least of all John. “We’ll be heading to the troll market; can we count on you for translating some of the more...advanced dialects?”

Nuada’s left eyebrow twitched, but John waited him out. Whatever followed, be it insults or potential injury, John had learned that much.

“I have been advised to attend with you on this outing” Here, Nuada stared John in this eyes, “and asked by you leader”-his lip curled on the word- “and to ensure the demon does not cause offence”.

Well, John thought-hearing Hellboy rearing back and voice rising- that didn’t take long.

---

The atmosphere in the truck was tense now that the shouting had died down. Liz was pissed at Hellboy, Hellboy was pissed at Nuada, and Nuada seemed to be pissed off in general. And John just did not want to deal with it...so he went to the main screen, flicking up a 3d map of the troll market.

“Ok so” John started, zooming to the main entrance, “We go in here. Liz will take the first left, with Hellboy going down the middle stalls and Nuada-” John glanced at him, but he was bodily turned away from them. Disappointed, John summarised to the rest of the team and closed off the screen. “Just, see what you can find out”.

---

The market was...nothing like John had imagined. He’d been told about it like every agent. News of the discovery had been wide spread, even reaching Johns arctic base, that finally the entrance to the troll market had been found!, and better yet, their agents have been able to go in without incident.

The scientist has fallen over themselves to get newly assigned there, and all had promptly been rejected. The focus on the troll market was supervision only, to intercept anything dangerous coming out of it, but overall...not to interfere.

One of Professor Bruttenholm’s house rules that Manning had deemed fit to follow. That or he realised just how much trouble Hellboy would cause if he knew he could go stomping off there without needing to ask.

John had been there the day Manning had told Hellboy, quietly eavesdropping as he gathered Hellboys plates. Manning had even evoked the Professors name, reminding him that it was one of the late Professors rules. And...well,  Hellboy hadn’t been able to object. But he had looked like a kicked puppy the rest of the day.

Trying to blend into what little shadows the market had, John watched the patrons of all shapes and sizes going to and fro, bartering for goods and exchanging gruff wordings that slipped in a dizzying swirl around him. It was amazing. His heart was pounding, aware that there was still a threat there, but to finally see rather than be told of the happenings...

Beside him, Nuada was sneering at the side of his head.

“Can I help you pri-” John stuttered, aware that perhaps Nuada did not want to be recognised here with his title. “-Nuada” he finished quietly.

“Those trolls” Nuada tilted his head to Johns right, and John turned to face the direction but felt a little hopeless s he tried to guess who Nuada meant. There were trolls everywhere.

“Who?”

The fine hairs on his ear tingled as breath brushed it, and John froze, even as Nuada spoke closer to be heard discreetly. It was the closest he had ever been before. “The grey skinned pair. Do you hear them? What they are conversing?”.

Now John bit back a retort. No doubt Nuada knew he didn’t speak any form of troll-and there were over 10 types they’d discovered so far- so he knew Nuada was trying to rile him up with the jab. Turning his head, he let Nuada see his eye roll of expiration...and Nuada grinned.

Instantly Johns back went rigid, prey instinct screaming that it was never a good thing when-

“Gabuta!” A deep growling voice hollered from the main stalls aisle, quickly followed by the sound of smashing pottery.

“Goddammit!” John hissed, hand already lifting to his earpiece and eyes tracking Nuada as he stepped around him, heading towards the grey trolls he’d pointed out. At least they’d get some information

“Red!” The ear piece screeched with interference for a blinding second, “Red?!” John continued as it settled, “come in! Liz do you have eyes on Red!”.  Walking towards the now gathering body of onlookers, John could make out the loud smacking noises of flesh meeting stone.

“Yep” Liz popped the p, sounding resigned to whatever was happening. Biting his lip hard to stave off getting further frustrated with Hellboy, John rushed forward, managing to push between the bulky bodies with quiet apologies and get his own visual of what was happening.

Hellboy currently had a shop seller down on the floor, his smaller red hand wrapped around its tunic, the other delivering sharp smacks left and right, pausing for a second to let the troll mutter curses, and then continued.

Shuffling his feet, John summaries what he could do that would stop the situation from escalating. In the background of this, Hellboys ‘Oh Yeah- you think so huh!” and the sound of flesh being smacked by his rocky hand kept on.

Glancing around for inspiration, nothing jumped out that could help, but there was Nuada suddenly coming out of a side row of stalls, heading towards them. The crowd seemed to part before him, their noises becoming softer and muted, until he was stood at the centre of the commotion.

“Stad! (stop)” Nuada commanded, and Hellboys raised rock hand froze its descent, bodily turning to stare down Nuada. “Tha sinn deiseil an seo! (We are done here)”.

The words instantly had the crowd of onlookers nodding their heads, already trickling away from the scene. The troll under Hellboy gave one last huffed insult, tunic slipping out of Hellboys fist as it slumped flat.

Its stall was smashed up pretty bad. The wooden table broke in the centre and small bits of random pottery lay shattered around it. John ran his eyes over the mess and sighed.

“Well, that went about as well as we expected” Liz concluded at his left elbow, knocking hers into Johns to lighten the mood. “We getting pizza on the way home?”

Unable to hold back his grin, -inappropriate for the situation- John tucked his chin down to try and hide it. “Alright, come on Red. Time to leave”

There was minimal fuss from Hellboy as he dusted his trench coat off and waved to the unconscious troll on the floor and followed them as they turned to make their way back to the entrance.

Quickening his steps to keep up with Nuada, John turned his head to watch the prince’s stern face. “What did you find out?”

“Nothing too overtly good or bad” Nuada answered, face remaining stern, “It would seem a human shipment of explosives fell into the trolls hands by happenstance. As all things down here, the seller turned it to their benefit as the opportunity provided extra fortune for the two”.

“Oh” John replied rather dumbly, “so did they say if they’d sold any more recently? Or if they still had the stock?”

His only answer was a pleased hum from Nuada as he exited the door first, John trailing after him. When he still hadn’t answered after a few seconds, John realised Nuada was goading him again.

While John had learned how to deal with some of Nuada’s quirks, it seemed he had also done the same to John.

“Ok. Great. That-that’s great work. So can you tell me? Please” John added on at the end, aware that Nuada was more tolerant of their interaction if it was well mannered. A fact John had learned very quickly when Agent Peirce had grumbled rudely at Nuada had had thusly spent the next week speaking in a squeak from the resulting throat punch.

Nuada hadn’t even seemed bothered by the forced week of confinement to his room as punishment.

John had been spared any physical harm so far by simply using manners, even when Nuada had made it hard to do sometimes.

From the inside fold of his overall, Nuada pulled out a small scroll, waving it teasingly next to his head, still continuing to walk away.

Shaking his head, John allowed an eye roll, feeling safe enough with Nuada’s back turned.

“Hey guys” John spoke to his wrist communicator, “We’ve got some intel so we’re ready to hea-”

The brush of heat was the first indicator that they were close, and then-

“I CANT BELIEVE YOU RED!” Liz’s flaming outline stalked past, closely followed by Hellboys swaggering frame. Perhaps a little too much swagger for the small incident caused.

Wisely, John took the passenger seat next to the driver, nodding his head to close up the truck just as Liz and Hellboys raised voices started.

----

“So as far as we can tell” Abe’s fingers flittered over the scrolls intricate lines, “it was a coincidence that this shipping company, while failing in many safety checks, did not in fact count their stock of explosive components correctly”.

Manning was not happy with that answer. Next to him, John tried to stand straighter as Manning turned his angry glare onto him.

“So what you’re saying is it was a fluke?!”

Abe froze, clearly taking in Manning’s stern stance; John’s thinned lips...and nodded.

“I WANT THIS PLACE SWEPT FROM TOP TO BOTTOM!” Manning waved his right hand to the ceiling, voice fading as he stormed out the room, managing not to slam the door on his way out, followed closely by his secretary and bodyguard.

The latter had been a recent addition following the increased hostility of Nuada’s glares, having also been subjected to Manning’s talks on recent matters.

Focusing back to the room, John felt the heavy stare off Abe and reluctantly gave his friend a weak smile. “Thanks for looking at it again Abe”.

He only nodded but his eyes rapidly blinked, the double eyelids flittering too often to be normal. “Is...Everything ok John?”

Was everything ok? Not really. He dreaded one of them would slip up with his little secret-he’d catch Nuada staring at him at odd times and-and with the nightly nightmares....

“Its-” His throat caught, unable to work out how to tell Abe all of this without sounding like he was ranting. He realised he’d closed off his body, locking this arms over his chest and cradling his elbows, a gesture too much a show of guarding that Abe was already hobbling around the desk, leg braces squeaking noisily.

“I’m here if you need me John. We are all here”

And abruptly, John felt his throat constrict around a ball of emotion. He swallowed it down quickly, not wanting Abe to feel it when he gently pressed his finned hand to his shoulder.

“Thanks Abe”

He knew what he needed to do now. And the thought of it left him feeling warm with longing.

“Any time John. And please tell your mother a hello from me”.

The burst of laughter out of him was unplanned, but it brought a smile to Abe face as well.

---

Chapter 9

Seeing his mother again, after everything he’d seen, Hellboy closing the hellish portal, Liz exploding a room of lizard monsters, it left him feeling light, stepping into his mothers open arms and not letting go.

After their hug had gone on too long, she laughed in his ear, and John felt his whole body relax. It felt like forever since he’d been able to.

“What brings you back kiddo?”

She’d managed to walk him through the house and sit him on the couch, all without them parting their hug.

“I...” Sucking in a breath that felt so explosive he didn’t want to let it out, so he held it, watching her as she watched him back patiently. “Its....”

And watching her face slowly relax in understanding, John was so unbearably grateful to still have her.

“You still struggling with that old thing?”

Scoffing, he tucked his chin down to his chest with a shake of his head, but he wasn’t able to meet her head on.

“Its ok baby” she whispered, grabbing his hand and tugging it, but he still didn’t want to look at her-didn’t want to admit that after all this time, he still couldn’t fully control it. After everything they’d been through, with Joe, the accidents and scares over the years...

“You know” Sara started, “I’ve still got that old safe upstairs”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, John allowed a weak smile to pull at his lips.

“We could take a crack at it?” she nudged his knee and flicked her hand at the general direction of the room. With it, the thin curtains around the room shifted as if a draft had moved them.

His eyes were already scanning the corners of the room, looking for any place a camera might be concealed or-

“You know Johnny, that government job’s made you mighty paranoid”

And now she sat forward, elbows on her knees and John felt his neck flush, embarrassed.

“What, you think some government mans gonna come take me away? Take you away?”

Already, John was shaking his head, denying it, and in equal amounts...fearing it. It was a silly fear, one he’d rationed away years ago when he’d met Liz, met the team and Hellboy...but nightmares were irrational like that. They didn’t listen to common sense.

“Johnny” Now, she sounded serious and John watched her face, saw her worry and how carefully she was rolling the next words in her mouth.

“I think-later mind you- we have a little talk, yeah?”

Nodding his head, Sara reached forward and ruffled his hair. “But for now, we need to get you outside, get some sun on that pale face, get you some doing some stretches”

Stretches. Their code word for their thing.

“Come on” she slapped the back of the couch and walking through the kitchen to the back door, yanking it open, “get your butt outside. Wanna see what’s been buggin you”.

He followed her out reluctantly, and if he scanned the sky for any distant helicopters, Sara kindly didn’t point it out.

“You and I both know we’re alone out here. Now, you remember rule number 1”

“Start small” John answered and rolled his sleeves up.

“Take your picking?” She waved to the open crops and fields surrounding them. 

Squinting into the distance, John could see a weathered scarecrow with a straw hat on about 100 feet away. Then there was the barn just past it to the right, its faded red doors wide open, or the apple tree further again.

 Gently, and breathing slowly, John stretched his arm out. Curling his fingers, he imagined taking the hat off the scarecrow, lifting it as if directly over his fingers and started to pull it back. Like a ghost hobbling along with it on its head, the hat floated towards them, gradually getting closer, wobbling but getting to them without dropping mid way.

When it landed at his feet, he turned to Sara. She stood with arms crossed and a serious expression, watching him.

“You never used to struggle like that. What’s got you all twisted up?”

He pressed his lips together and yet, she was right. She’d only needed to ask the question, and John could see what it was. Nuada’s face swam to the front of his mind, his smugness at knowing his secret, worrying that Nuada would use it against him.

“Its...work I guess. Someone on the team who” he rolled his head side to side, “found out about- my thing”. John didn’t know if he should tell her about how Nuada had come to find out, but he supposed it needed voicing.  

She stayed quiet, let him tell her about how he’d saved an ‘agents’ life -stopped the cave from crushing him and then...he told her about Abe. The collapse of a wall, pulling Abe to safety...but he kept going. He told her about the looks he’d get, from Abe and Professor Bruttenholm, how they seemed to always allude to one thing or another without actually saying it.

When he ran out of words, he sighed. The expulsion of words had left him feeling empty of his worries, airing them to the one person who understood.

“That old Professor guy” Sara confirmed, “Yeah I seen him before”. At Johns shocked expression, her smile turned to a grimace. “I told ya, we gotta talk. Yeah he came by a while ago, not seen him for a few...”

“He-died”

He didn’t know what his face was doing, but Sara came towards him, rubbing his arm and pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry baby”.

Automatically, he felt himself hugging her back, burying his face in her neck and loose hair that smelled like soil and sun. It smelled like home.

“I- some things happened-” John started to say, swallowing past the lump in his throat that had no reason to be there. “- bad things. And I-I could- I think I could have stopped some of them ma, but-” Sucking in a breath, focusing on the fingers carding through his hair, remembering the old comfort of her doing that when he couldn’t sleep-“ I was scared. I didn’t want them to know!- and its stupid- I know-and-”

Admitting to her that he’d been a coward, let bad things happen because he was scared, it left him ashamed- and he couldn’t take it back.

He couldn’t stop Liz from being captured after she’d braved the lizards and exploded the room,-held back when Hellboy needed him at the entrance to hells door. Lied again and again to Abe and the Professor when they’d offered him the proverbial olive branch. Fear had shame had stopped him, and Sara had always told him, before he’d gone off to the big city and college and joined the FBI, that it shouldn’t stop him.

“I’m sorry” John hissed, fighting the growing urge to cry.

“No, you hush now Sid- none of that nonsense now”

The name, one she’d not used for over 20 years now, shocked him so bad that he pulled back to stare at her. But she wasn’t worried; hell she was even wearing a mischievous smirk and rolled her eyes to the side, pointing past him.

As he turned, the air in his lung stopped. The fields were utterly still, bits of floating objects peeking from between the crops. A black crow moved in a slow drift with the rest of the field. A pitchfork there, a clump of fallen crop in another place...but the farms tracker idling in the air in the far-far- distance had John stumble back.

It was hands, gripping his arms with clawed fingers that stopped him from dropping everything. The pressure of her small chin, digging into his right shoulder and the whispering of soothing words, let him breath, let him focus.

And it was easy. Well, easier than normal, to let everything drift back down. To let the tractor slowly settle on his wheels without a kick up of dirt, let the crops return to waving in the wind, the crow to screech in outrage as it flew away.

“I’ve told you baby. You grew up good. The world isn’t shaped by just our actions. You just remember that, if you can do something, even a little, to make things better...well now, that’s alright then, isn’t it?”

 Coughing wetly, John turned, giving her a watery smile. “Thanks mom”.

“Hmm, now don’t think you aint doing those dishes after dinner now”. She wagged her finger, already turning back to the house as if what had happened hadn’t been a big deal. She disappeared back into the house before John could say anything, so he looked back to the field.

Everything was as right as it could be.

Just to test it, John focused back on the scarecrow, its hat still at John’s feet where he’d let it fall. He flicked his wrist, sending the hat shooting off towards the scarecrows head. It missed, as he suspected it might, but it was a start. And he was still able to lift it and place it back into its rightful place even from the distance away.

Little things that may, eventually, lead up to bigger things. Like saving Abe, Saving Nuada from the cave in, chasing after Hellboy time and again, that’s what he’d chose to do.

Following Sara into the house, he let himself pull the door as he reached for the handle, and ended up smacking his knuckled on the frame as it shot open. Blowing the sting away, John tried to ignore Sara’s outburst of laughter from the kitchen, stepping into his old home and physically pulled the door shut behind him.

Chapter 10

Nuada did not like John Myers replacement. The man was an oaf, blundering through mission explanations and shouting for attention when it was lost due to his boring drivel. The man was incompetent as he was tall, and frankly, too easy to upset.

No amount of threats to Anung Un Rama had stopped the demon from causing chaos the few times they went out. It had only been two days of John Myers absence, but already they’d been confined to base. A stupid decision on their part really, as the demon now wondered the halls looking for his entertainment, which in turn, caused more trouble for their own.

And Nuada was fed up.

Demands to know where John Myers had gone had been met with, at best, a clipped retort of, “Taking leave” and at worse, snide smirks.

With no missions, Nuada had taken his time in the gardens, nurturing the endangered species and meeting with Nuala, the only one out of the whole mess who he could, and in turn, stand to be around.

“Speak freely brother”

Nuada looked back to her face, graceful and calm as she relaxed with him, surrounded by their plants. And he found himself struggling to speak, words rising in his throat and mind together, clambering to be the first spoken, choking him in their insistence.

And Nuala, gods bless her endlessly, smiled kindly at him and waited. The life bond was dead between them, but the one of blood shared between brother and sister was as strong as ever.

Filled with gratitude, he took up her small hand on her knee and squeezed it gently.

After all the wars, the fighting and finally, the separation that almost ended them, she did not hate him, and instead, squeezed back. And at the start of their new beginning, waking in this place, surrounded by enemies, he found that he did not hate her for what she’d done.

“Sister, I-” again, words crowded him and he gritted his teeth against the jumbled mess. He had woken with the sun with questions, and he’d vowed that when he slept, he would have answers.

“What do you know of him?”

Her answering exhale did not demand explanation, she knew him like he knew her. “You speak of the young Jonathan”. Here, she paused, eyes swivelling side to side, thinking. “It is difficult to say. You have seen him, witnessed his heart-”

Hissing air in through his teeth, Nuada rose and turned away from her to pace a few steps. This had come up several times, the uniqueness of John Myers ‘pure’ heart. And it was true, which was why Nuada could not face it.

He’d seen the glow in his essence first hand, felt the steady thrum that emitted from him at all times in his own head. Nuada had almost cracked a tooth until Nuala had finally pointed out the obviousness of its meaning.

A pure heart. A miracle that it existed at all... but that it sat in the centre of a human...

Nuada spun back around to her, resolved to face this path of questions. As a prince, he faced his troubles head on. He would not turn away from his worries, no matter that it involved a human. And he would not bow his head in shame for it. If the gods had bestowed a pure heart to a human, then it was for a reason.

It was futile to question John Myers heart between them, as neither of them knew how it had come to be. A questioning it had not brought answers. So, the obvious next questions were about John Myers powers.

Where had they come from?

They’d spent the first night of John Myers absence in Nuala’s room, huddled together and joined at their hands, silent on the outside, but their minds and emotions joined to the other.

Nuala had concluded that he had been birthed with them. Nuada had further added that it was passed down from a parent. They’d felt the truth of it in their bones.

Reluctantly, Nuada had conceded that John Myers had not stolen his power from a witch, nor supernatural entity. He had been granted his power at birth...and cowered at its use. This, Nuala had swallowed her own pride and agreed.

John Myers was afraid of his powers.

And the next question that had, surprisingly, come up had been...what to do about it.

Nuada had jokingly projected riling him up, watching the walls of the human’s base shake and crack as the man lost control. It had sparked a thrill of joy in himself, but Nuala had not returned his smirk, and sent back a vision. He’d been unable to hide the stuttering of his breath, and Nuala had shown more grace than his own that she did not comment on it.

In the vision, John Myers had been placed back in his office, behind his desk. He was at ease, signing off the last bit of paperwork with a quick flourish and a-

-A peaceful look on his face.

The scene had continued to play out, Myers rolling the pen in his fingers with a twirl, and the room became animate. The chairs had gradually floated a few inches upwards, the cup at the edge of his desk drifting off towards his coffee machine, paper flittering gently...

The image had been so easy, breathtakingly peaceful-that Nuada had snatched his hands out of Nuala’s first, breaking the illusion.

He’d ignored her questions for the rest of the night, unable to face her. Unable to face himself even when returning to his room, he’s refused to look at his reflection. He knew as he did now, his eyes would have said enough.

“If you wish to know. Then you know it is not I that you must ask” Nuala finally answered.

There were no further questions that night, and Nuada had only been allowed to walk her out the gardens before she’s waved him off, squeezing his arm before departing back to the labs, to her Abraham.

The advisors had warned him, back when he was a young prince, that if he did not like the answers they were giving him, then he should not ask the questions.

But he’d asked them, every time. Because even then he’d known, as a prince, he had to know.

Now he needed his answers from John Myers.

Chapter 11

It took2 seconds after stepping off the descending lift entrance for John to be greeted with the sharp sound of shattering glass.

2 weeks away- in John’s honest opinion- was not long enough.

Ahead of him, one of the meeting room glass walls was shattered outwards, the glass spread wide across the foyer. The door was already opening, a terrified agent stumbling out with flailing arms.

And so, John waited, knowing it would take but a second for the likely culprit to answer with-

“It wasn’t me!”

Resigned, John closed his eyes and sighed.

It was like he’d never been away.

Then the shouting started.

“RED!”

“HEY, ITS NOT MY FAULT-“

The agent, seeing his chance to escape, turned to run- and finally caught sight of John. The flash of relief that crossed his face was not unexpected, as John had been in his position once, subjected to all of Hellboys ire.

“Agent Myers!” He pointed his finger accusingly at the broken window, no doubt trying to point out the room’s occupants that had- guiltily- gone silent.

As the agent made his way over, skidding on the glass with flailing arms only twice, John saw that the mans work jacket was torn under the left arm pit, and the overall jacket hung a bit odd on his frame. Almost like someone had manhandled him in it.

 “They ar- Sir!- it-” Try as he might, the man couldn’t seem to get the words out.

Feeling only slightly sorry for him, John waved him away. “Thank you Agent-” but he didn’t get to finish, the agent already turning and running away and out of sight around the far corner.

Oddly, the reaction was not completely uncommon.  Many an agents had done the same when dealing with Hellboy.

Anxious silence fell.

Ignoring the looks he was receiving from other agents who’d stopped to watch the commotion, John tucking his head down and jammed his hands into his pants pockets, swiftly walking to the door of the meeting room and pushed the glass door open gently. 

Inside sat an innocent looking Hellboy, next to a very displeased Liz, whose arms were crossed and bodily turned away from Hellboy.

“Boy Scout? When did you get back?” Hellboy asked, which only served to make Liz shake her head and clench her jaw.

“Just now” John answered, stepping back and holding the door open. “Lets go”

---

Manning was not happy, which John was not surprised by in the least.

“Again, Agent Myers, I hope you enjoyed your time off” Manning curved the words, “and I hope you’re feeling fully refreshed to have a talk with our resident hell spawn about the damages he’s committed over the time you were away!”.

Sitting through the long and costly sounding talk, John could only silently wave goodbye to any future leave requests he may have wanted.

“Yes sir”

Watching Manning’s left eye begun to twitch and the man reach for the famed ‘stomach ulcer medication’, John stood up to leave.  

“I’ll go speak with him now”.

--

The talk went like it usually did.

Questioning why Hellboy had decided to, in no particular order: raid the kitchen, eating their month supply of spaghetti sauce-which had made the lead cook cry-topple several of the 8 foot library shelves, cause an incident in the research wing that had him barred for life –and finally, cause the quitting/firing of the recent Agent Neilson.

The last one had pissed Manning off the most, setting him off on a rant of ‘recruitment numbers’ being low already, and how they’d had to let another one go for unprofessional bias, racism to non-human species and- an alarming lack of backbone.

After the talk with Manning and then Hellboy, John had gone to more reliable sources to find out what had actually gone on while he’d been away.

“He was horrible John” Liz explained, with Abe’s enthusiastic nodding along with her.

“And quite rude if I may say so” Abe added, which, coming from Abe, just cemented the claim that it was more a firing of Agent Nielson, than a quitting.

“Well,” John hummed, “I’m back now. So let’s just...get back to business”

Oddly, this had the two smiling at him, with Liz shuffling forward to envelope him in a bear hug. After a few seconds, she gave a delighted hum and slight squeeze to his ribs...and John couldn’t help but chuckle along with her.

“Never leave us again John”.

“Yeah ok,” John agreed, “You just like how much of a push over I am”.

The spark of laughter from the two sounded like home, and John didn’t feel bad for liking it.

---

Next up was the ‘royal twins’, as the other agents had so ‘lovingly’ named them. Which John had never mentioned in front of the twins for fear of being strangled by Nuada.

With plenty of time left in the day, he decided to go see the easier of the two, making his way to Princess Nuala’s room.

When she’d first been presented the room with its greyish decor and musty air, she’d accepted it thanks and grace, noting that she was pleased with its close proximity to the labs. And Abe.

Prince Nuada had been the exact opposite, but had reframed from any nasty remarks and merely curled his lip at it all. Which was worse, in John’s opinion.  At least a comment may have helped in making the room more comfortable for him to sleep in...

Knocking on the door 3 times, John stepped back to wait, hands curled comfortably curled in front and rocked gently on the balls of his feet.  Which did not help as Nuada opened the door.

Their shocked expressions matched for a brief second, before John’s mouth opened like a fish out of water, and Nuada’s signature scowl appeared.

“Nu-Nuad-”

“Where have you been!” Nuada snapped, yanking the door wide to step out into the corridor. The proximity brought him toe to toe with John, causing him to nearly swallow his tongue.

“I-Wait- you”

Nuada’s sneer was gaining a dangerous edge to it the longer John stumbled over his words, which only made his fumbling worse.

His attempts at dialect were cut short as Nuada wrapped a hand into the front of his jacket and bodily turned, shoving John back against the concrete wall. The sharp impact had his shoulder blades aching and a startled grunt escape, but he quickly snapped his mouth shut, watching Nuada’s eyes as he lent in close to his face.

“You have been absent” he hissed lowly, “and an imbecile was put in your place”

Clearly there was something deeply bothering him, as John saw how his features twisted with the sheer volume of his rage and felt the grip on his jacket increase.

This was the razor point that John had stayed far away from reaching ever since he’d been tasked with being Nuada handler.  There had been times when Nuada had looked at him with murderous rage, and John had felt a genuine fear for his life...but it had never been this type of rage.

Something had happened.

“Nuada” John whispered, matching Nuada’s low tone from before. He didn’t ask, ‘What had happened’ or ‘what had been said. He knew those questions would only sink Nuada deeper into his rage.

“What can I do to help?”

The fog in Nuada’s eyes cleared and with it, Nuada stepped back in confusion, abruptly dropping the hold on John and his jacket. Silently, John was still please he could still throw some curve balls, as Nuada had evidently not been expecting the question.

Moving slowly, John brushed at the front of his jacket and kept his eyes down, giving Nuada the seconds he needed to gather himself again.

When the silence went on too long, he had to bite the bullet and glance up at Nuada’s face, checking for the familiar signs of crinkling skin near his nose or the downturned edges of his mouth. These were the warning signs John had come to learn, early tell that would give him a chance to start running if he needed to.

But this was a new one.

He’d never seen that expression before.

---

Chapter 12

John didn’t know what that expression meant. In all his time spent as Nuada’s handler, caretaker and even ‘nanny’ as Hellboy so lovingly put it, Nuada had never looked like this.

His eyes had softened. Not warmed by any degree. But they were searching. They bore deep into him, and John could only stay still, let him find whatever he was looking for.

He didn’t know what it meant. What did he need to do? Or not do? John had no experience in dealing with Nuada like this. And it left him floundering for solid ground.

“John” Nuada breathed-and John snapped back to the present. The question-Nuada had asked him a question from before. 

“I went to visit my mother” The words slipped out without him meaning to, and Nuada must have heard the truth in them, as his head tilted down a degree, a slight nod of acknowledgement.

Faintly, John could hear the approach of light steps, and-

“Is she...like you?”

Every-single-muscle in John’s body all at once locked up. His fingers twitching to try to take back the words. Because the approaching steps had stopped suddenly. And they were most definitely close enough to have heard what Nuada had said.

Speechless with shock, John could only stare at Nuada’s widening eyes, the realisation slowly sinking in as he registered the halted steps-

-and John couldn’t move, stiff with dread.

Abruptly, Nuada turned towards the mouth of the corridor, to where the steps had cut off, and called sharply, “Nuala”.

The speed of the relief that swept through John actually made him feel ill, hollowed out where all the fear had once been. His shoulders slumped first, followed by a distinct shaking of his knees. Horrified of the possibility that they may give out, he forces his legs straight, clenching his toes in his shoes to help relieve the feeling.

The steps started again, quicker this time, and Nuala appeared around the corridor bend, hurried but still graceful in her approach.

“Agent Myers” she smiled, her features tinged with an edge of apology, “I had not known you would visit today. But I am pleased you are back”.

John tried a returning smile, but it lasted all of 2 seconds before sliding away. He’d had a tiring day, and emotion turmoil did not help ease it.

Kindly, Nuala turned away, directing her focus to Nuada.

“Brother, I am also pleased to see you here as well”

The reacting scoff caused Nuala to chuckle warmly.

It was well known that if you could not find Nuada in his room, in the gardens or in that one random and inconspicuous back room- that he’d somehow found and smashed every recording device in- then Nuala’s room was where you would find him.

Abe had sadly been the one to find the late one out. It had been a late evening when he’d plucked up the nerve to finally go speak to Nuala about a bit of interesting research- and had been met at the door by a stone faced Nuada.

Hellboy and Liz had laughed themselves silly over it. Even John hadn’t been able to hold back a laugh or two at his poor friends misfortune.

Gently clearing her throat, John looked over to Nuala-and noticed her pointed look towards her door. The door- that John and Nuada were blocking.

Jolting out the way, John made room for Nuala to step forward and open the door, which swung open with the press of her pale hand.  

“Would you like to come in Agent Myers?” Nuala asked, gaze turned back to him.

The look wasn’t challenging, but John abruptly felt cornered. He didn’t want to be stuck in a room-trapped between the twins where they could possibly question him on end. He was tired- he had to fill out the disciplinary report on Hellboy and-

-and he also didn’t have any reason to say no. After all, he was the team’s handler, and that team included Nuala. Which was the person he’d originally came to see.

“er- Sure”

Nuala didn’t react at his delayed response, just stepped aside to deposit the scroll she’d been holding in the crook of her elbow, and left the door open in invitation.

Now John just needed to step through it.

With a jolt of alarm, John saw the tip of a pale hand out the corner of his eye as it landed gently on the curve of his right shoulder. The rest of the arm pressed in a perfect arc across his shoulders. Blocking any retreat.

“After you” Nuada prompted, but didn’t wait for John to act. The pressure of Nuada’s arm guided John in through the opening.   

Once inside, the door didn’t slam shut with finality like it did in the movies. Nor did the dread he’d anticipated on entering come- and still didn’t appear even as he was guided further in and to a low table.

On autopilot, John bent and sat on one of the 3 mismatching floor seat cushions. This was better, his body acting without his direction. Because his brain did not know what to do with the situation John had now found himself in.

He waited, tension holding him still as Nuada took the cushion to his left, Nuala taking but a few moments to then come and join on his right. No matter the company she kept, Nuala always had her regal grace, pinching the thigh of her dress as she sat down and letting the dress naturally fold over her feet.

John had never been able to shake the urge to just watch the royal twins. They were captivating. Different. His brain would always catch on the slight oddities of moments with them, try to force a human like veil over the two that would not fit.

Pale skin and hair that, on a human, would scream sickness. But with elves, it was universal.

Then their thin bodies -too long to be humanoid-that moved in a controlled and direct fashion.

His eyes tracked Nuala’s long bony fingers as she rolled out her scroll. As it rolled up on itself, trying to close, she pulled one hand back, it disappearing into the fold of her dress and appeared again miraculously holding a stone. This she then used to hold the edge of the parchment open.

And John could not help but track every motion. 

“You mentioned your mother”

The words hit like a stone on a still lake surface, causing temporary ripples of confusion. He’d not been expecting the topic to be brought back up.

And he couldn’t control how his eyes jumped about the room, jumping to each cover, looking for that little black eye of a camera. His suspicion was not without reason.  Manning had voiced the organisations concerns on the twin’s loyalty and if they could be trusted. It would not be a far cry to think that their room has also been set up with monitoring equipment.  

Beside him, Nuada hummed, a sound too self satisfied that it made John turn back to him, eyeing the smirk of his lips.

“There are no other eyes or ears here” Nuada explained, “We have made sure of it”.

When he glanced to Nuala, she nodded in response. “This place is private. Here, we can speak with openness that the outside world may not offer”.

Swallowing the anxious knot in his throat, finally, John bowed his head, accepting this. Because she was right.

When the silence continues, John realised that they were waiting for him.

“My...mother” John started, unsure on exactly what he would be happy with telling them.

He was naturally cautious when he talked about her, his home life -or his life in general. It had been hard when he was a child, wanting to share his life with friends, but had inevitably held his tongue. It had kept him at the edges of his friend groups, not fully involved but not excluded either.

His friendly smiles and warm nature had kept him in good company, and his mother had been cautious, but pleased.

The warnings were repeated every day and night. And flash of red on white curtains that appeared behind his eyes at bed time had helped keep their secret. 

But now, he wasn’t so sure if his words could be kept in any longer.

Because finally, here sat two people- ok elves- but still. He didn’t have to make a big deal of telling his secret...because they already knew.

Decision made, his ignored the increase beating of his heart-and met Nuala’s eyes across the small table. She was not fully turned to face him, and it helped to not feel confronted with her direct stare to finally...let the words come.

“She...y-yes. She is. We –we are. And I-I’m sorry” John wiped at his mouth, skin clammy, “I just...I’ve never talked about-this- and I just I-I don’t know what to say”.

They didn’t seem angry over his jumbled words, their silence exactly what was needed to keep the words coming.

“We have a farm. Far out, in Louisiana. With big corn fields and a barn-” He stopped and rolled his jaw side to side, aware that this was not what they wanted to know.

When his silence lasted a tad too long, John did not see the look that passed between the twins. He was lost in memories, eyes clouded and fixed on a point on the far wall.

“Yes”, he whispered, “she’s like-me”. Bile rose in his throat and he forced his dry throat to swallow it back down. The image of those white curtains- stained with a dark red -flashing in his mind. “And no” he continued, voice gaining strength, “she’s- not -like me”.

I’m worse.

While the words stayed trapped behind his teeth, they whispered in his mind.

He hung his head, unaware of what he must look like to the other two, ashamed at himself -with how true those words were- and how he’d do almost anything to make them not so. 

“There is nothing wrong with you John Myers” Nuala commanded, her fist now clenched. “You are full of life, and strengths that many a kind would break at should they experience it!”

She’d straightened in her seat, eyes fierce- striking – and John was instantly humbled in the reminder that she had been born to a race of being that would one day, call her their queen.

She reached for his hand but halted over John’s own-not missing his flinch-the quick surge of horror over his face-

“You are not wrong” She finalised, hand retreating back to her side of the table to spread the corner of the scroll back open. “We are all different. In one way or another. And now, we are together”.

It seemed she’d said her piece, finished with their conversation and focusing her gaze on the scroll.

Quietly, John swallowed the choking rising of- something- in his throat, and making a mad grab for normalcy. Turning to look at Nuada, certain he would see one of the 2 emotions the prince always wore around him. Stern denial, or frustrated acceptance.

Their talk had thrown John off balance.  

And Nuada’s expression only made it worse.

There were several. And not ones John couldn’t recognise, but certainly not some that John witnessed on him before.  

Doubt- then empathy- switching quickly to a weak acceptance. Of them. Their situation. And of John...

It made John’s eyes sting, his heart flutter with a deep aching yearning,-and he stood quickly- before his wobbly voice could expose him.

“Thank you your highness” John conceded, quickly cleared his throat of its wet gruffness. “That’s very kind of you. I have-some work- to finish up”. He hovered, pointing his thumb back over his shoulder.

“I wish you a pleasant evening then, Agent Myers”.

Nuala did not look up from her scroll, and Nuada seemed reluctant to look up at him, staring down at the table.

John gave one more self conscious unseen smile before walking- not rushing- to the door, opening it and swiftly stepped out.

Immediately, the chill of the corridor became apparent as it pricked at his skin, but he ignored it, allowing his pace to quicken as he walked back towards his office. Aware that he was running away and unable to explain to himself why.

---

Chapter 13

John didn’t sleep well that night.

Floating out of a sleep that gave him little rest, he’d woken to a trashed bedroom. The paperwork he’d been filling out the night before was now strewn across the room. His blue coffee cup lay shattered near the door. A new crack now ran along part of his ceiling, directly overhead-

-and John sighed in defeat, taking it all in. Things had to change. He couldn’t keep on like this.

--

He rushed through his breakfast and cup of tea, eager to get to the administrative offices, where he could drop off the complete paperwork in out trays.

Afterwards, he went to find Abe. He wasn’t sure how he was going to bring up his ‘issue’, but he’d lost the benefit of wilful ignorance, after the state of his bedroom and his talk with the twins yesterday.

Reaching the labs, he made sure he was very nonchalant as he pushed the door open, eyes dancing around until he found Abe at the farthest table, arched over something with tweezers in hand. 

He made sure to walk loudly, letting Abe know he was there as he drew closer, eyeing the room. After the last incident, this was one of the first rooms that had been repaired. The previously destroyed wall now looked good as new, and there was a faint smell of fresh paint in the air.

“John” Abe cheered, gently placing his tweezers down next to what he’d been examining on the table. “How may I help you today my friend”.

Ignored the clench of his throat, John forced himself to step closer to Abe, trying not to show how nervous he was, but unable to stop from shoving his hands into his pants pockets.

“Do-do you have a minute Abe?” John asked quietly.

Perhaps John’s tone had triggered a warning bell for Abe, as his head came up fast, focus now solely on John. The double eyelids blinked once, twice, and Abe’s body swayed as he stepped out and away from the table. “Of course John. Always”

Fighting the crash of utter gratitude for Abe, John shyly waved his hand towards the side of the room, indicating to Abe to follow. He led them towards the right of the room where 2 long couches were positioned, one against the wall, the other facing away from the main doors. 

Abe trailed behind him as expected, but he was clearly curious about what was going on. Clearly curious, Abe allowed time for them to get seated, before tilted his head at an odd angle at John, prompting him.

“Is everything alright John?”

Sitting forward, elbows braced on his thighs, John wrung his hands in front of him.

He couldn’t look Abe in the eyes, even though he was desperate- he wanted to talk to him about this-about everything. But his stupid tongue was stuck.

After a few false starts, Abe matched his pose, moving to the edge of his seat and bringing their space closer. Deliberate and slow, Abe slipped the glove off his left hand... and extended his greenish palm to John.

Staring at it, John’s eyes dropped to the hand, and then jumped up to Abe’s face-and back down to the offered hand.  

“Its alright John” Abe offered, “I will not judge you”.

Choking on the ball of emotions in his throat- gratitude- fear- relief- the hesitation stopping him from reaching forward finally broke, and John gingerly took hold of his friends hand.

At first, there was nothing. He noticed that Abe’s skin was rougher than a human hand, the temperature cooler than most, the slight slide of slime present that helped Abe keep regulated when out of his tank.

But still-cowardly, John found he couldn’t look at Abe’s face. Because it would hurt to see Abe’s judgement. He’d grown immune to Hellboys taunts and pleased with Liz’s banter with him. The other agents barely paid him any attention, and any harsh words they whispered were too low for John to really catch anyway.

But Abe had been there at the beginning. The very first one of the team to welcome him with a request to turn a page in a book- the background smell of rotten eggs-the wave of a hand- and then- utter understanding, coming from a being John had not even known existed.

And it had mattered so much then.

It still does.

While he could not look at Abe’s face, he could still feel the intensity of Abe’s returning stare on his own. He didn’t know what vision of his life Abe was seeing, but that inner part of himself- that reached out for acceptance-balked at the idea of Abe pulling away from him.

The first time Abe had read John, hand out and fingers splayed wide and pointing towards John from across the room- the professor a standby observer- he’d explained how he saw the broken snap shots of a person’s life.

At the time, Abe had been embarrassed, apologising for his blunt delivery of John’s life- webbed hand fluttering around his own green cheeks. It had been surreal enough that John couldn’t help but chuckle- delighted to be interacting with something supernatural-  and waved away the apology in restrained glee.

Abe had reassured him that he would not do it again. And in the next breath, offered him a cup of tea.

“Oh John”, Abe whispered, voice soft, and the words brought John back to the present. And Abe- sweet and gently Abe- brought his other hand up to cradle John hand.

John didn’t know why the gesture had such a strong emotional impact on him, but he was immediately fighting to keep his composure. His eyes rapidly stinging, the lump in his throat refusing to be swallowed down, and he could feel the slight tremor that had started under his skin.

Using his free hand, John scrubbed it against his eyes, breathing out harshly through his nose to fight to keep it all in. But it was hard, his chest tight- everything begging to let go-

“s-Sorry” John choked, feeling the tide rising and hopeless at stopping it. He tried to breathe through it, sucked in a gulp of air that caught wetly in his chest-

In response, Abe stood and moved over to him, impossibly long leg quickly bridging the gap and sat down on John’s couch. Leaning in, and with no fear or hesitation, Abe wrapped an arm around John’s shoulder, pulling him sideways into a one armed hug.

“There there John” Abe hummed, followed up with gently tap of his gloved hand against the upper part of Johns arm-and it was so humorous-and awkward- so Abe-that John choking and gasping with surprised laughter. It broke the moment, and John’s laughter was briefly uncontrollable as he watched Abe nod, self assured, and aware he’d prevented a small emotional disaster on John’s part.

After his brief laughing fit, John felt settled. And blessedly, Abe had stood back up to go back to his table, leaving John alone and slouched on the couch to recuperate. And think.

Because he’d never expected this.

It wasn’t the acceptance of his odd ability, or even the recognition of it. It was Abe’s understanding of everything that John had seen or done. The good. The bad. And after seeing it, Abe had offered compassion.

Fighting the drooping of his eyelids, John rolled his head along the back of the couch, searching for Abe in the open plan room, finding him back at his table, fiddling to correctly position a freestanding magnifying glass over his work.

“Abe”

“Yes John”

Biting his lip, John thought back to what his mother had said when he’d asked about her ‘talk’ with the professor.

“Did he know?”

Confused, Abe turned back around to him, tweezers in hand. “Did who know?”

Fighting off his own hesitation-uncertain if he really wanted to know in this instant what he’d always suspected- John finally answered. “The professor”

Notably, Abe’s fingers twitched. A nervous tick. And with a sad nod of his head, Abe confirmed. “Yes John. I believe he did”.

And that didn’t really change anything, John realised. He didn’t know what this information was meant to give him. An answer to what he’d already suspected? Freedom from forever wondering just how much the Professor had actually known?

It didn’t matter, in the end.

After several seconds, John realised he was breaking Abe’s focus, who kept looking over at John as if expecting more. So quietly, John thanked Abe and stood up, headed for the door.

Heading up in the small elevator, John summarised that things had gone better than he’d hoped. Nothing had drastically changed.

And sadly, he still had a lot of work to do today.

Eventually, he ended up back in his office –and glared at the small stack of papers on his in tray that had not been there the night before. So, with a heavy sigh, he dropped into his office chair and slid the papers closer.

“Ok” he bargained with himself, taking up his pen, “time to get some work done”.

----

Hours later. John cursed the existence of paper reports.

His wrist was sore, his eyes were dry, and he was now slumped over the edge of his desk, his back set into a curve that was starting to ache. Frankly, he was ready for bed.  

Finalising the last document with a quick swirl of his signature, John looked at his wrist watch, sighing as it read only a little after 3pm. With all the reports completed, he actually had some time to waste.

Stretching,-and getting a rather satisfying crack from his spine- he blew out a harsh breath through his mouth and rocked his chair back on his hind legs, thinking about his options.

Food- yes, he needed that. And there was plenty of time before the kitchens closed. And then maybe an early night? Or go hang out for a little while in the break room. Maybe catch a game on the big screen TV.

Rubbing his tired eyes, John quickly disregarded the last ideas. It was still early, so he’d at least get some food and...maybe...

Like clockwork- a god-almighty- crash- rocked through the room from somewhere in the corridor, causing John to slam the legs of his chair back down to the floor.

Years of working in the BPRD kicked in, and John froze, adrenaline spiking, but not moving. Because in moments like these, he just had to wait- just a few seconds- and....

“MYERS!” A man’s voice screeched from a short distance away, offence ringing in every syllable. And John, groaning in defeat, dropped his head into his hand.

Outside, the voice continued to shout. “Get off of that this instant!- No!-Hellboy!- Agents are to adhe-MYERS!- SOMEBODY GO GET AGENT MYERS! RIGHT NOW!”

Some days, John really hated his life.

Chapter 14

Notes:

Sorry for the delay. Mother had a stroke so been back and forth to hospital. She's recovering and having rehabilitation so its slow going. But I got another chapter for you kind folks who leave such great comments!

Hellboy was grounded. The damage to the flooring structure had been immense when he’d toppling the 10 foot statue in the main corridor. No one had been harmed. Well, an agent had twisted their ankle throwing themselves to safety, but thankfully, it was nothing major.

What was major was the headache John could feel blooming. After the second shout of “Find Myers”, a gloomy agent had taken the initiative to retrieve John from his office, guiding him towards the ‘incident’, where he’d then had to bear witness to the screaming match between Manning and Hellboy.

“It wasn’t that bad!”

“It-was-a-priceless-piece of art” Manning fumed back, “a statement to everyone who walked through that door!”

“Hey, chill” Hellboy responded easily-

-and John had closed his eyes against the oncoming train wreck-

-“Its not like it coulda cost much anyhow”-

Manning’s appalled mouth flapped open and shut, flabbergasted-offended-so utterly enraged at the response- that John had quickly stepped in to deal with another Hellboy shaped incident.

Shoved at Hellboy’s arm, John had managed to quickly turning him around “Come on Red. We need a talk in your room!”

As Hellboy let John rapidly steer him away, he’d waved a bulky red arm back to encompass it all. “What Myers- really!” he stumbled with a huff, John having thrown his whole weight behind the push, “-I aint buying that crap. Have you seen it!”

John refused to answer him. One, because they still had a corridor of agents still watching. Two, because he was not about to openly agree with Hellboy’s assessment of that big ugly statue. And three, because he was pissed that he’d now have to fill out another incident report.

--

Liz- once she’d found out what he’d done- had made Hellboy fill out the report. She’d endured his grumbling, shaking her head at his nonsense, and reiterated that she thought he was an immature child for his silly pranks.

Hellboy had kept up his grumbling and unhappiness, jabbing the pen hard into the paper. It was the 3^rd pen he’d been given after breaking the first two, but Liz seemed to have come prepared with a bunch of them in hand.

With complete report in hand, John then had the misfortune of trying to reprimand him. Because John had learned early on- begrudgingly- that he had no real way to enforcing any punish against Hellboy.

So the next best thing was bargaining.

You had to give him something that he wanted; something that would entice him to ‘behave’ for as long as possible, if it meant he might get more further down the line.

“If you’re good” John bargained, “I’ll put an order in for a box of baby Ruths”. Hellboys eyes widen, red tail swishing in delayed excitement. So they’d stuck a deal. And while John had shot down 2 more requests from Hellboy at paying a subscription service for the treats, he at least had secured a month of Hellboy free incidents.

Hopefully.

It was late by the time he made it to his room. Too tired to commence with his usual routine, John left the light off, undressed, throwing his clothes somewhere in the direction of his hamper, and crawled into bed, already half asleep before his head hit the pillow.

---

The next day, emotions had started out strained.

Hellboy was moody. Liz was grumpy. And Abe was camping in the labs, avoiding the two of them. Nuala had chosen no sides and gone off to the libraries.

And Nuada was...acting strange. Enough so that Abe had noticed, giving John a faint head tilt from behind the lab door- and locked it.

It had begun subtly, but John had quickly found that every room he went to, he would inevitably find Nuada.

 When he’d  gone to the gardens, looking to supply Abe with some trimming off a fern planted in the east corner- he’d nearly upended his box of supplies when someone-very loudly and unexpectedly- huffed from behind him.

Spinning around, he’d spotted Nuada, perched comfortably at the edge of the fountain, legs crossed in meditation and appearing as if he’d been there for hours. He didn’t seem annoyed at John’s presence, but had ignored John’s nervous hello. Unconcerned at the lack of a response, John had carried on, yet felt those yellow eyes tracked his movements, watching him take the needed trimming. Task complete, John had made his way out, still feeling the heavy weight of Nuada’s stare on his back.

The next occasion had been the library. John had wanted to offer Nuala some of her ‘burning root tea’, which Abe had gushed-was her favourite. When he’d entered, he’d seen not a soul. Stepping in, he’d called out, hoping to find her quickly-

-and yelped in fright when Nuada had tapped him on the elbow.

For his part, Nuada had reframed from demeaning him for this, and pointed towards the metal stairwell and turned away; walking back to the bay window area where he’d evidently left his open book.

Trying to appear unfazed, John had followed his direction, and found Nuala reading a book. It was smaller than her palm, and as she was quite engrossed in her reading, the offer of tea had graciously been declined.

By midday, John had gone to his office for a quick break, and to do some admin. Acquiring a cup of tea from a neighbouring office, John had took his seat at his desk, already pulling over a thick booklet, weary as he run his eyes over the front page stamped evidence in bold.

Absorbed in his task, he’d reaching over to place his cup down, eyes glanced up momentarily--and inhaled his mouthful of tea down the wrong hole, resulting in a choked spluttering. Because, not five feet away, sat lounging in his guest chair, was Nuada, witnessing John’s misfortune first hand.

After several seconds of John trying to clear his airways, Nuada had slipped over to his side and delivered several sharp taps to John’s back. Which actually hurt-so, eyes streaming and throat scratchy, John had begun to turn and wave him off, ready to either beg him to stop breaking his ribs- or ask why he was there-but found Nuada had vanished.

After that, John had concluded that- with so many instances of running into Nuada- he’d beat the trend and go find him instead.

It did take some time, with many grumpy agents telling him they’d not seen his ‘Little Princeling’. Eventually John decided to try the back room, an odd location that Nuada had taken a liking to.

Arriving at the back room, John could hear Nuada’s grunts from behind the door. Which was unusual, as there had never been an instance where he’d heard Nuada before he saw him. The prince practically walked on air it was so silent.

So, taking the safest option, John politely knocked on the door and waited a few seconds- knowing Nuada would not answer him- and opened the door, quickly stepping to prevent the door swinging back into his face should Nuada take offence.

But Nuada was indeed present- and again ignoring John’s presence- he continued twirling his gleaming spear in an overhand arc, the spears length extending, and with a final twist and shift of stance, brought the sharp tip to a sudden stop... inches from John’s face.

All movement stopped, and in the drawn out silence, John cautiously watching Nuada past the point of the sharp end. The returning stare from Nuada was full of mischief, yellow eyes glinting, the iris’s turned molten gold. 

Evidently, not a good sign.

“Why do you hold back John Myers?” Nuada questioned, the spear tip never wavering. “Why do you not use that power inside of you?”

Automatically, John felt his mouth open on a retort -and quickly snapped it shut, reminding himself to act professional. Because, after being followed around all day by Nuada, choking on his tea-and soaked his white shirt-he was feeling rather cranky.

Discreetly, he tried to survey the corners of the room-and failed-realising that Nuada’s eyes were tracking his own with a restrained malicious glee.

“I have removed those which are not privy to see or hear what I do not wish. So-” With a flourish, Nuada tucked the spear behind his arm, the sharp tip now aimed at the floor. “It is not your lack of ability to use it. It is fear”.

Tight lipped, John ignored the taunt. So with some breathing room, John quietly brushing down his jacket and thought over how he was going to ask about Nuada’s stalking.

But Nuada- like always- had other plans.  

“And that is much worse”.

John didn’t even see the attack coming, just felt the sudden crushing weight against his throat, the ache in his shoulder blades being forced into the unforgiving concrete wall, and the faint puff of air against his face-inches from Nuada’s own.

“Your fear holds power over you”

Somehow, the arm across his throat gained pressure, forcing something important to start to throb in warning-

“But no more”

The sudden release and weightlessness brought John crashing down to his hands and knees. Throwing out his arms, John prevented face planting to the floor, but the quick shock of the impacted raced up his arms, bringing a bright flash of pain- hurt-strong enough that he bared his teeth at it-

-and a matching flicker of anger slipped out, answering the pain-

A sudden and sharp crack sounded from across the room, the noise so unexpected that it pulled both of their focus, and saw the wooden seat stool-previously tucked away under Nuada’s desk- now imbedded into the far right ceiling light. The light gave one final flicker, popped and went dark.

Now with only 3 working lights, Nuada was partially clouded in shadow.

Quietly, John braced for the response. This was usually the part where the confusing came, then the fear, which would then turned to anger. It had happened before. With Joe. With the bad men in long coats, and the old man who’d come to the farm with a gun, bringing smoke and ruin.

Seconds ticking by that John measured by the cold seeping up into his palms. But Nuada did not follow human patterns, and again, broke John’s expectations.

And perhaps, John thought, chancing a look up at Nuada when no physical or verbal response came, perhaps he’d been wrong all along. Applying past experiences and human emotions and traits to a species separate from his own. Because Nuada was only staring back at him, patient and waiting. And his yellow eyes, strange, different, and now somehow... familiar. They stared back at John with no fear. No anger.

So maybe that was why he found himself nodding.

And accepting the hand up Nuada offered.

--------------------------------

Chapter 15

Within the back room, faint voices could be heard.

“Again”

“For gods sake Nuada!” John’s shouted back, “Give me a break for a second-”

“No breaks!”

A crash followed the response, then a shout-a pained grunt-and then- CRACK-

Inside the room, John was struggling to catch his breath, ignoring the shaking that had started up in his outstretched forearms. He’d managed to throw his jacket to safety just before they started, but now, he felt more aware of how his shirt was sticky with sweat, clinging to him uncomfortably.

“Where did you even get this stuff?” John demanded- and had to quickly swing his arm to the side before Nuada could bean him on the head with what looked like a ceramic eagle statue.

Thankfully it missed, his own invisible push knocking the thrown eagle off-course and smashing it to pieces against the wall.

But Nuada did not answer, nor slow his attacks. He was quick and devastating, angling his throws in deceiving arch’s that had John holding his shin in pain at a well placed shot and hopping out the way of another secondhand ornament.

It ended when John let out a shock wave- knocking Nuada on his ass and causing him to lose his grip on the box of ornaments. The resulting crash of all that ceramic was deafening. With no more ceramics, a ceasefire was called.

Huffing and out of breath, John folded himself down with a grateful sigh to the floor, stretching out his legs carefully so as not to rest on any of the broken ornament and humming in relief as the coolness of the floor soothed his heated legs and backside.

 “Finally” Across from him, Nuada was smiling at the ceiling from his space on the floor, still sprawled on his back. He leant up onto his elbows effortlessly, as if John hadn’t just thumped him down pretty hard seconds ago. “You did not hold back”.

Worrying he may have actually hurt Nuada, John glanced him over. But it was useless. Nuada gave nothing away.

“Yeah well, you didn’t give me much of a choice”

For some odd reason, this only widen Nuada’s smile, so John pretended he couldn’t see it while quietly embraced the thrill of causing said smile, allowing it to warm his inside.

“Good” Nuada declared, and resolutely stood back up.

With only seconds needed to recuperate, Nuada was back on his feet, no sign of tiredness at all, and already turned away and walking over to his desk. When John saw him reach for his spear, his stomach tensed. It was one thing to do a small controlled push, but if Nuada kept this up, then he may actually get hurt.

“Nuada” John interrupted, rushing to get stand, “I think that’s enough for tonight!”

Visibly displeased by this, Nuada turned, his signature scowl in place.

“No seriously-” John insisted, grabbing his jacket and quickly pulling it on- cringing when he felt the press of it over the cooling sweat on his shirt- “I have to get some rest. I’m up again in a few hours”.

When Nuada turn away again, slow and deliberate but accepting John’s answer, John breathed a low “thank you” to his turned back and quickly grabbed the rest of his things.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then” John called over his shoulder, opening the door--only to be met with an equally confused and unknown older agent on the otherside, closed fist raised as if to knock.

Together, they stared in delayed confusing at each other.

“Special Agent Myers-” the new voice started-and a quick glanced at the man’s ID badge revealed ‘ Agent Steel’ stamped in bold. The agent gave him a once over, left eyebrow lifting-- and then glanced over John’s shoulder.

Whatever he sawmade his face go suddenly, professionally, blank.

“Yes Agent Steel, Is there anything wrong?” John asked, though cautiously.

“I-” Agent Steel took a step back, spine straightening. “Sir, I was sent to come find you. We’ve managed to track down an informant on the shards from the cave in”. Again, Agent Steel’s eyes jumped from John and then back over his shoulder. And, puzzling, followed up with-

“Apologies for any interruptions sir”

For several seconds after, John strained his ears to hear- waiting for the rest of the sentence, but Agent Steel stayed quiet. So it took couple more for John to get what he meant.

When the answer clicked- realising what Agent Steel meant- John eyes shot wide, opened mouthed, throat choking with equal amount of denials and explanations, that it left him stuttering like a fool, unable to stop his cheeks from flaming or the squeaked “What?!” that followed.

Bewildered, John cast a nervous look over his should to check if Nuada had heard...but he was still suspiciously turned away. But his posture was too fixed, too telling, hand perched on the length of his spear. And John could see the cloth he was using to clean the handle moving with slow controlled sweeps.

He’d definitely heard. And no doubt guessed the insinuation the agent had made.

 “I-eh-I- a-Agent Steel” John croaked, stepping swiftly out the room and pulling the door close behind him. “We were just-”

-His brain blanked-

Because what could he say. That they’d been training?!-Nuada had been going over his spear routine?!-

-No- it had to be something feasible-

Stupidly, his mouth hung open, trying to make words fall out to explain away the situation.

What broke his stupor was the press of a hand against his lower spine. Automatically, his back arched away from it, but the pressure kept up until it effectively shoving him completely out of the doorway and into the corridor.

“Keep up Agent Myers” Nuada smoothly interjected, stepping out his room from behind John and pulling the door completely shut, which coincidently pushed him into John’s personal space. Moving around them and-in full view of Agent Steel-Nuada confidently dragged his hand across John’s lower back- before passing around them and walking smoothly away from the situation he’d now caused.

Equally stunned mute, they watched as Nuada leisurely depart around the bend of the corridor, the image of innocence, and disappearing out of their line of sight.

Astounded that Nuada had just done that to him, John coughed, clearing his throat but could see that, equally, neither of them could make eye contact. Trying to salvage some of his image, John folding his jacket closed over his stomach, nodded at the other Agent, and briskly followed Nuada’s path.

--

Nothing was mentioned after their little corridor ‘presentation’ but John had started receiving some funny looks from other agents over the following day. No one approached him or said anything. But it was clear that they knew something.

Great

Their aforementioned informant had turned out to be a tree sprite. The brittle being had chattered on and on about disturbances in the forest, its raspy voice snapping like twigs and twisting over itself so quickly that John had to rely on Nuada to translate.

And in retrospective, had not been the best decision.

Nuada, after only listening for 10 seconds, had snapped a jumble of words at the thing. John hadn’t had much time to ask Nuada what he’d just said- before the sprite had balled up its small stump hands in outrage and turned away, throwing itself at the nearest tree and melding instantly to the bark, disappearing from sight.

Sighing in defeat, John had turned and gave Nuada a withered look. “Really...”

For his part, Nuada had not dignified him with a response.

Chapter 16

Notes:

Sorry I'm a little late for update.
Been correcting errors and writing.

And life has been crap and chaotic recently.

Nuada knew that this was a problem of his own making and he should not have let this happen.

But here he was, crouched beside his human handler’s bed, hand tucked between John’s cheek and the pillow, with each puffs of John’s breaths tickling the fine hairs on his wrist.

He’d not meant for this.

When John had failed to notice him within his dwelling, Nuada had thought him to be intentionally ignored. But he’d quickly realised that exhaustion had dulled John’s senses, and he ground his teeth in annoyance. While it was a well know and exploitable flawed trait of his species, Nuada had not seen John suffer it in some time.

So stubbornly, he’d remained in the shadows, even as John had undress and lay down, quick to fall asleep. And failing miserably to realise that he was not alone.

After John’s breathing had evened out, Nuada had not been so keen to remain, but he was reluctant to leave without some recognition. He’d planned for a non-lethal form of retaliation. A much needed lesson for being so unobservant of his surroundings.

So, making the split second decision to confidently step up to the edge of John’s bed- where again there had been no reaction- and Nuada found himself abruptly grinding his teeth again!-, and pondering how John Myers had managed to survive so long.

And John had simply continued to sleep.

Finding himself unable to stop, Nuada had reached forward, intent to at least poke John once or twice and see if he really was asleep, or doing a valiant job of faking it but-

-but that had been his mistake, and what had currently left him in this predicament.

Beneath his left palm, John’s cheek was scratchy with the beginning of stubble. But...it was also so very warm. And soft. This close, he felt the hum that forever echoed within and around John. Now that he was actually touching him...it vibrated ten folds stronger! It shivered along his senses, divine like the first fall of the leaves in an ancient forest, or the bite of winter waters. He could go on and on describing the sensations that had awoken within him, but felt he may never run out of ways to explain it. It reached deep inside his being, brushing against parts of himself he’d not ever wanted to know of, yet felt so unequivocally, that he was robbed of words and reason.

It was the quaking of his own body that finally drew his attention back to the present.

Silently horrified at the awe bloomed in his chest- simply from this mere touch- made that small inner voice urge him back. He tried, if somewhat weakly. His fingers curled as he tried to remove his hand, but found he could not. The very thought of pulling his hand away had his insides violently twisting in rebellion. And he could not deny that he did not want to pull away, nor separate from this feeling in his chest that had started to throb in time with John’s hum.

This was dangerous indeed.

Arguing with himself, Nuada tried to use his reason. John was human. Pure of heart or not. And every human who’d come before had always been met with the sharp end of his spear. Not cradled peacefully against his own palm!

But still, his traitorous fingers had only curled soothingly around John’s cheek, brushing against the finely cropped hair behind his ear.

After a while and with John firming fixed in sleep, Nuada had given up, dismissing any lingering thoughts of pulling away, and so decided to take one more small comfort. Moving slowly, gently, Nuada rested his right palm on John’s chest, above that insistent thrumming beat of his heart.

It was-instant- bliss, evoking a euphoric high within his core.

As time ticked on, Nuada knew he would have to make his escape soon before John woke up. He too would need to take to his own bed for rest before the dawn broke again. But it was difficult to pull away. Bliss lapped around his edges, threatening a swift retreat each time he so much as lifted a finger away from John’s skin.

In the end, it was John who made the decision for him as he rolled over, still firmly asleep. Badly startled, and thinking he’d been caught, Nuada had snatched his hand away with the roll. Now free, Nuada stood frozen, half arched over John’s bed, waiting to see if John had woken.

But John remained asleep.

With the adrenaline of almost being caught, and the surrealness of what had transpired, that Nuada quietly moved to the door, exiting as silent as he’d once come.

Outside the room, there had been no one in the corridors, but Nuada had still ensured that his path took him a way that none of the camera’s eyes could track. And if he failed to stop the clenching of his hand...

Well, he had only himself to blame.

----

Asleep, John’s eyebrows creased.

Standing alone in his mothers kitchen, staring through the window of the kitchen door, he saw the familiar crop fields that went on endlessly from sight. Within the crops, there was a slow retreat of a familiar figure, moving away as if to stop him noticing them there.

Nuada.

Stepping forward with urgency, John tried to call out to Nuada, to make him wait-but the noise that came out of his mouth was a quiet, unrecognisable mumble- and Nuada sunk further into the distance.

Alarmed, John kicked his legs, raced out of his childhood home- bare feet pressing into the dirt as he jumped the steps-and rushed headlong into the crop fields, gripped with a frenzied urge to find him.

Pushing past the leaves and stems, he called repeatedly for Nuada, but there was never a response. And with it, a sinking feeling inside his chest grew worse. He desperately clawed at the corn’s tall stems in panic, trying to rip some down to clear a path so he could see, but the more he tore down, the taller and thicker the rest seemed to become.

Frantic, he began to feel that building pressure inside his chest. And at once, he calmed with recognition. Because this would clear the way-blast through them- like he’d done before-back when the old man had come to their farm with a gun that had made pain sear along John’s face-

The phantom sensation of pain, from all those years ago, made John reach up to touch the old scar- but stopped. Because now, it felt like it was being cradled, like his cheek was lying against soft warmth.

As he focused, felt that warmth more acutely, it stayed, gentle with pressure along his right cheek-and he fought to press harder into it- the perfectly rightness of it- so consuming that he automatically tried to reach up and grab hold of it-

-and his hands closed on nothing---then something!-

It was a pale hand, now poked through a gap in the line of crops that blocking the way. A hand that held his cheek in a gentle grip. And while the figure was submerged and face obscured behind the wall of crops, John knew it was him.

Emboldened, John stepped up to the wall of crops, but found no opening big enough to fit his own hand through to try to reach back. Several times, he tried to find a small gap, one he could wiggle his fingers through to make wider, but there were none.

Surprisingly, another hand mysteriously peaked through the wall of green, reaching and flattening against his chest, over his heart.

A blissful warmth rippled from the centre of the touch, travelling outwards, up to the top of his head, and down to the ends of his toes. And John could only sag gratefully into it.

Gradually, he began to drift in this new sensation of weightlessness. The surrounding crops disappeared now, gone without another thought, and he was left to bask in that warmth, floating on the secure hold of those hands.

Through the slits of his eyes, John couldn’t see through the fog that had appeared again, and he ached at not being able to see Nuada’s face. He wanted to muster up the energy to ask him to stay, because somewhere inside, John recognised that this would be ending soon. 

He’d turned in reaching for the rest of Nuada’s form, feeling full with satisfaction and warmth-

-and in the waking world, he snuggled further into the coolness of his pillow, humming with contentment and the faint memory of a warm touch softly slipping away into the nothingness.

--

Nuala did not like the knocking at her door, but valiantly, she rose to meet it. For whoever was hammering at her door at this hour must have needed her aid urgently.

Pulling on her gown, she slipped her legs off the bed and into slippers just to the side. While knowing she was merely delaying the encounter by seconds, she took her time to stand and pull her clothing tighter. She’d learned not to rush to meet those who were so...demanding.

Nearing the door, she heaved a drawn out sigh, feeling the tugging of her bond with Nuada on the opposite side of the door. Whatever mess he’d gotten himself into this time, Nuada’s emotions were badly jumbling their connection to work out what it was.

Turning the handle gently, the door abruptly pushed in, allowing Nuada to slip in through an impossibly small gap and shoving the door closed with a hiss of annoyance. While clearly, this was not aimed at her, Nuala still raised her eyebrows at him, reserving her judgement of his behaviour for after he’d explained himself.

But the longer it took Nuada to express his issue, the quicker she found her mouth parting in –shock-wonder- intrigue- when Nuada struggled to even start.

In the past, they’d certainly had their issues communicating, but the connection had always made the transition easier. Now, it was muddy with emotions that were all feeding in from Nuada, and she was allowed to watch Nuada twist and turn his hands, see his chin dip, his mouth part and –nothing come out.

This was a rare sight indeed.

“What pains you this night brother?”

“Its-” Nuada’s lip curled, “It is....of my own action...dear sister”. Sobering, Nuada moved to her bed and sat on the far end, and seeing him there, Nuala had a lurching recollection that they had done this before, when once they were younglings. Nuada, still then so full of pride, had sat many a time on her bed of vines and golden leaves, and summarising his plans for the kingdom.

Defences against the humans at their borders. New treaties that he and father had been discussing with other clans and allies.

Seeing it again hurt, not just to realise that their last encounter like this had been centuries ago.

Why had it taken them so long to finally get this back?

“My greatest apologies, dear sister” Nuada’s soothing voice brought her back, drawing a smile to her lips without prompt. Because even this was so like those times.

“Be at ease my brother”. Moving steadily, she joined him on her bed, sitting close to allow her hand to rest on his turned knee. “I am listening”.

-

Leaving Nuala’s room, Nuada reframed from slamming the door behind him. But only barely.

It had been foolish to expect any reason from Nuala, the only one he’d ever allowed to laugh at him. However, this time had been one of the hardest, not just because she’d found such delight in his explanation of what had happened. He could still see the image of her exposed throat as she’d thrown her head back in unguarded delight at his blunder; still hear the tenor of her laughter reverberating so loud, that Nuada had not stayed long enough to find something to break in his resulting anger.

Diverting, Nuada ensured his expression left no room for interruption from any of the random humans he encountered as he purposefully strode to the back rooms.

A little training with his weapons would help order his thoughts. And as Nuala tried to tug on the bond- attempting to pull him back- he gladly ignored it.

---

Chapter 17

Notes:

Sorry for the delay. Still writing this as life slows me down.
Still got a few more chapters left but wont go above 30 i think.

Having woken from one of the better sleeps of his life, John had started his day with a bounce in his step...and quickly summaries within the first 10 minutes that he was missing something.

Nuala had not stopped smiling all day, her joy infectious enough that Abe’s enthusiasm had resulted in one smashed beaker and several agents questioning ‘what had happened’ that had Nuala giving them a very secretive smile.

John had already had agent’s coming to alert him, ensuring nothing afoul was quietly going on.

Because for all her glee, Nuada was the exact opposite.

There had already been one report of a blood nosed agent sent to the infirmary and it wasn’t even 8am.

Reluctant to let it deter him, John had started his rounds for the day, checking in with each of the supernatural agent, getting a brief rundown of things needed (Liz), things that needed fixing (Red) and things that were perfect (Abe).

No amount of coaxing had made Nuala part with whatever the secret was, and further questioning had only made her eyes gleam with mirth. Cautiously, John had cut his losses and moved on with his tasks.

Surprising no one, John struggled to track down Nuada.

After not finding him in any of the usual places, John had internally started thinking over how bad the reaction would be if he managed to put a tracker on Nuada, but each scenario playing out worse and worse than the last, so he shelved the thought for never and asked Nuala where her brother could be. That self-satisfied smirk had slipped back into place as she’d directed John to the gardens.

Nuada’s scowl was extra severe today.

Fighting off the dread of dealing with a very pissed off Nuada, John sighed, but still stepped forward to force his presence on the prince. Gods forbid he actually interact with his teammates.

For his part, Nuada did not dignify John with a response when he wished him ‘Good morning’, but did cast him a direct glare when John continued talking.

“So, is everything...ok?”

John braced for the reaction -because there was no doubt that there would be one by the way Nuada seemed on a hair trigger-but he still wasn’t prepared for Nuada to drop the watering can he’d been using and bodily turn towards John, eyes glowed with rage.

Instinctively, John had already begun edging his foot back.

“What has she said!” Nuada raged, advancing his movement forward and he quickly cut off Johns exit back into the building. If John wanted to escape, he’d have to make a break through the gardens to do it. And he didn’t fancy running past the human sized fly trap plant three squares over.

“Who?” John couldn’t help raising his hands in universal surrender, because Nuada looked more unhinged than normal. Whether it was the bags under his eyes, the anger thrumming off his frame or the pinched mistrusting turn of his mouth, John quickly summarised that a truthful response was needed for...whatever this was.

Shockingly, Nuada’s hands clenched at his sides, physically swaying like he was grappling with something he wanted to say, but ultimately turned and stormed off towards the entrance. An agent- no doubt coming out to make sure all was ok- gave a shout of alarm as Nuada body shoved them out the way as he returned back inside.

Smartly, John decided that he’d try again with Nuada later. Much later. When he’d calmed down.

Reaching down, he righted the overturned watering can to stop it flooding the very exotic and unfamiliar plant roots and went to help the fallen agent up before he’d have another ‘incident’ report on his desk.

--

“Ok Nuala” John started, sleeves rolled up and jacket left on one of the work benches, “please kindly explain what has gotten into Nuada”.

For her part, Nuala arched a delicate eyebrow at him- but was unable to fight off the smug smirk that just kept sneaking out whenever anyone mentioned her brother. “Whatever do you mean John?”

Scoffing in reluctant humour, John nodded along with her. “Ok, I see how it is”. Because, like her brother, Nuala knew how to use silence to answer a question that needed no response.

“Will you please just-tell me?” he implored, looking to Abe in hope that he’d help out. For his part, Abe did at least hum in somewhat agreement, nodding his head at her as he vacantly stirred a sickly green beaker.

“Well” Nuala put down her own beaker and walked around the desk. Her movement was gracefully, nothing about her screamed ‘danger’, but John felt his core muscles lock up anyways, because her face told him that she was not so innocent.

“Why don’t you simply ask Nuada?”

Her smooth yellow eyes were clear of any dishonesty or deceit. And still, John did not trust it. All the warning signs were triggering. The bells, the whistles, flashing red light! And John couldn’t work out how bad this was going to be. It could be nothing, merely something to scrape off the end of his shoe and call it a lesson learned. Or alternatively, it could be like stepping on a landmine.

“Nuada”, John mumbled, “Doesn’t seem very interested in speaking to me today”.

There and gone was that secret smile again. And John equally dreaded and needed to know its meaning.

“Yes” Nuala answered, “I have heard. But I need not answer for him. He will speak with you”.

Silently John stared at her for more, but when she didn’t continue, he turning to Abe, who was mirroring his own confused expression. Nuala did in fact, ‘not explain’, simply nodded her head at her own wisdom and returned back to her tests.

“Well-” Abe finalised with a shrug. “Good luck”

--

Luck would not help him, John silently affirmed to himself as he knocked again on the backrooms door.

When he’d still not been able to find Nuada, he’d given in and checked the security feed, showing Nuada heading for this direction 3 corridors back. Which was as far as the camera’s went. Because, after Nuada had ‘claimed’ the backroom as his own, he’d silently began a kill streak on any digital surveillance they’d install to monitor him. After too many episodes of destroyed equipment, security had cut their losses and decided not to sink more of the budget on monitoring a plain old corridor that led to a dusty and unused storage room.

“Nuada” John banged again, adding force behind his voice and knocking. “Can you let me in please!”.

Manners tended to help when dealing with-

-Nuada--who had suddenly appeared in the open doorway.

The lack of wood under his knuckles had left John’s clenched fist still raised, an easy thing for Nuada to grab and bodily dragged John inside. The tug sent John floundering for balance as he stumbled into the room, sharply catching himself against a side table.

-“Christ!” John shouted, but after realising there was no imminent threat, fought down the heat in his cheeks from embarrassment, and scornfully eyed Nuada’s turned back.

“No need to be a--like that”

Dick, John silently thought, rolling his shoulder in the sore joint and cautiously approaching Nuada’s back.

Because this was also another oddity.

Nuada never kept his back to him. He’d gleefully faceoff against the biggest agents they had, sneered openly at Hellboy, and grinned at John’s failed attempts at de-escalation. But he never kept his face turned away. Which was worrying that he now chose to do so.

It took all the heat out of his stung pride and gentled his words. “Nuada..are you ok?”

“Myers” Nuada breathed lowly, “Just leave me be. I’ve had all I can stomach of this from Nuala”.

Delicately, John audibly scuffed his feet to indicate to Nuada he was approaching. “Well, I didn’t really hear about what happened. So if it’s something that I can help with...I’d like to try”.

Watching Nuada’s back proved insightful. Because it was a clear indicator of just how ‘fucked’ John was in his misstep.

At once, Nuada’s frame went rigid, muscles bunching- coiling-and John pulled his foot back in reaction, pressing his frame away before Nuada could turn- turn and snatch his arm up as John’s bodily responded too late to the threat- and pulling them together.

The force of the collision knocked the air from his lungs, but Nuada barely flinched at the contact. Automatically John’s hands went wide to find balance- to push away from the danger- and Nuada took grabbed hold of his upper arms in a vice grip. Trapping him.

“Help?!” Nuada huffed, breath hot and rushed as it fanned John’s face. “If only it were so simple”. The look in his eyes said danger-and John tried to not panic, but the grip on his arms grew painful and his heart pounding in his throat. “You do not understand John”.

- sharp pain radiated up John’s arms, but he dared not move.

-“What it feels like. Being near you...”

That broke through the haze of pain. Freezing the entirety of his body, John searched Nuada’s eyes for an answer- hoping- praying that he wasn’t about to hear of a pain that he’d unknowingly caused.

“Am I –hurting you?”

Perhaps Nuada recognised the high pitched ache that accompanied his words, because his expression clouded in confusion.

“What?- I do not speak of--” twice, Nuada corrected himself, “ I do not refer to your abilities. They are greatly impressive”-

-the words sent a stab of joy under John’s breastbone-

“-But it is not pain that ails me” Nuada summarised, and noticeably, strong thumbs rubbed up along John’s forearm, and with it, goose bumps raise in its trail-

“Your very centre hums” Nuada continue on, “and I have been careful”.

Whether oblivious or ignoring the heat crawling up John’s neck, Nuada bent in close enough that the pale curtain of his soft hair tickled at the edges of John’s face.

“But now that I have not. I find I wish to do so again”

Mouth going dry, John refused to squirm- certain that he was misreading things-

“Even now, your heart calls out”

Please- John’s mind whispered, eyes tracking Nuada’s hand that came to rest above his heart-pleasepleaseplea-

Overhead, the lights flickered, once-twice- then everything went black-

-and John’s heart sunk. Because he knew what came next-

The light returned, flooding the room in a strobe of red, quickly followed by a loud alarm sounding at set intervals-

- causing Nuada to instantly step back and reach for his hip dagger.

Silently fuming, John mentally made a note to relook at Nuada’s introduction pack. Clearly there should have been a training exercise on this scenario that would have informed Nuada about a red alert mission.

So John took a step back, reaching for his mobile that had already begun vibrating angrily in his inner pocket, and answered it. “Myers here-“

“Patching you into the calls Agent Myers” A professional womens voice answered, followed by a click and a blast of static.

“-S-pport!”-  the line hissed-the noise overpowering several words until it suddenly dipped back in, “-Req---support”.

Forcing himself still, John patiently waited, listening to the broken feed of information that all head agents would be receiving as well over the call.

“Wizard---Found it-----h--urt but we’ve man-g-d to section off the entra--“

In front of him, Nuada began to scowl.

“57-66-----highlands---“

That was enough information to get him started, so John turned to the door and stepped out, hearing Nuada following closely behind. With half an ear still on the call, John signalled over 2 white faced junior agents who stood frozen in the red flashing corridor outside, and quickly authorised the truck to be readied for departure. They rushed off with nodding heads and John turned back around, nearly colliding with Nuada; and pulled the phone away from his ear.

“We’re needed in the field. Are you ready?”

Nuada didn’t snarl at him for his authority or assumption. He barely moved, but nodded.

The relief of not having to convince Nuada to come was swift, and John’s “Thank you”, was overheard on the call, causing enough confusion from the other agents listening in that John’s attention snapped back to the call. 

“Nothing”, John answered at the same moment he spotted Hellboy stomping towards him through the parting crowd of agents, “Red team inbound”.

---

Chapter 18

Notes:

Sorry for the delay. I think the last uploaded chapter must have failed-as I could have sworn I'd uploaded it.

The garbage truck could only take them so far, so they were dropped off at a small and unremarkable plane hangar that had already been radio ahead to by other communication agents.

“What the hell!” Hellboy crowed, pointing at the rickety plane they’d been allocated. “This thing looks like its seen better years in world war 2!”

Trying to keep his scepticism-and agreement- off his face, John ignored Hellboy’s comment and continued loading the supplies with the 2 pilots. Their flight to the highlands was going to be long, and John didn’t want to give Hellboy an audience to voice his displeasure. Besides, there no use complaining when it was the only plane big enough to fit Hellboy and their weapons at such short notice.

“We’ve not got a lot of time red!” John explained as he heaved the large black trunk into the plane, stumbling with the weight. “This was the quickest plane they had”.

Refusing to react to Hellboys grumble of “yeah-quickest to scrounge up”-John followed the pilots up the creaking ramp and into the plane, ignoring the anxious grip of his stomach that reacted to the ominous creaking of the plane that never seemed to stop.

While it was indeed a small transport plane- not really built for their kind of evenings out- it did have two very special and custom ball turrets welded to the underside.

With the pilots disappearing up front and readying for takeoff, John dropped into a seat facing the ramp, watching Hellboy and Abe come up with their own gear. Expectedly, Hellboy continued complaining out loud to the group, while Abe appeared to be eyeing the seat next to John and absently nodding along.

And quietly, John braced himself.

With no Liz for the mission as she was now too close to the end of her third trimester, John had been quietly hoping that Abe would at least make their journey more tolerable. With Abe’s insights, John would be able to fly through the mission brief and go over terrain layouts, possibly discuss ancient ley lines of magic...but that then left Hellboy unattended.

Which was not good- but Abe was already making his way over, waving his hand at Hellboy’s affronted face and heading towards John and the vacant seat-

-which was abruptly now occupied by Nuada.

Together, John and Abe did a double take at Nuada. John, because he hadn’t even seen Nuada enter the plane. And Abe, because now he had to choose if a fight over a seat was really worth it.

Trying not to be too obvious, John side eyes Nuada, but refused to ask ‘where’ he’d popped up from. And while the staring did not prompt any reaction from Nuada, he did elect to lean back in the seat, casting Abe a flat but smug stare.

 

Unable to look away, John saw the unmissable nervousness take over Abe’s frame. His hands twitching in each palm- the slight swaying of his frame-until finally, Abe seemed to think better of it and wisely twisted back around and walk back to Hellboy side of the plane.

Regardless that he was a seasoned special agent; John rolled his eyes at them and pulled his backpack from under his seat. Unzipping the top flap, he pulled out the black tablet and tapped it awake, wanting to get started and gather some weather readings from earlier in the month that they’d have for comparison on.

“What are you doing Myers?”

With the words being spoken almost directly against his ear, John could forgive his heart for jack hammering into his throat in response. Refusing to react to the obvious taunt, John continued to absently tap at the screen to keep it awake. “Research. And checking weather readings. Wizards are a tricky bunch to handle. It’s their magic”.

In response, Nuada’s eyebrows pulled down, unimpressed. “I am aware magic is something wizards use”.

Scoffing, John irritatingly waving a hand at his tablet screen that was timing out every 10 seconds, and jabbed it back to life. “I didn’t mean to try and explain the basics Nuada. But it’s different for humans with magic. Magic isn’t always guaranteed to be passed down directly from parent to child. So the tricky part tended to come about with the second or third descendant that did inherit magic”.

Now, seemingly getting the message, Nuada dipped his head for John to continue. Which was going to be difficult as the plane’s engine began to rumble, and then roar all at once. The noise became almost instantly deafening. Valiantly, John tried to ignore the unsettling rattle of his chair, and the vibration travelling to his back molars, grabbed his seatbelt and clipped it shut.  

Further back, Hellboy began complaining louder, but the noise of the engines was hard to compete with, so John counted his luck and tuned back into his and Nuada’s conversation.

“It’s a well studied area within the BPRD. Professor Bruttenholm has writing a book on the topic, detailing some of the well known magical lineages and descendants, with probability of which future generation may end up magical”.

The plane lurched into motion, jolting him back into his seat as it starting its lumbering build up on the run way. They both ignored it, and John leaned closer, nearly shouting into Nuada’s face to be heard. “It’s often the issues we come across. When it happens like this, the person who inherited magic is often untrained”

John nodded his head towards the big screen as it blinked to life, showcasing the weather readings that he’d finally managed to upload from the tablet. Already, the readings were showing odd spikes of activity.

Waving his hand at the chart and following the rapid change of patterns, John pointed to one of the largest spikes. “See, untrained wizards tended to mess up the equilibrium of nature, drawing on too much raw power for whatever plan they’d decided was a good idea. The outcome’s often an explosion of elements. Mostly forest fires going for days, or weeks of rain. Not great”.

The plane hit a pot hole on the track, jolting the entire interior with a sharp crack. From somewhere to his right, John heard metal groaned, and his stomach clenched. All around them, everything was starting to rattle ominously as they picked up speed-

-abruptly John’s sense of equilibrium became fuzzy as his ass was air lifted off his seat with the next jolt, the seatbelt his only tether, and then he was slammed back down. The contact had his ass aching instantly. Hissing-partly in panic and pain- John made a mad grab for the armrests and bodily tried to press himself down into his seat to not experience it again. 

For his part, Nuada’s arm drifted over John’s, overlapping them on the armrest, and he leaned further into John’s space, trapping him in his seat with the back of his shoulder. Finally, he pressed his hand to the top of John’s knee.

The new hold was certainly secure. And by all appearances, Nuada only looked like he’d taken over John’s arm rest. Not body blocked him into his chair without any chance of being air lifted without warning again.

Finding the action oddly sweet for Nuada, John huffing in wonder, silently marvelling as Nuada’s silver hair swayed with the contact. “Thanks”.

Nuada gave no visual reaction that he’d heard. But the hand on John’s knee did tense. And then, the pale index finger gave a single answering tap.

Grinning, and trying to not make it too obvious to what was happening, John glanced over to the other and noticed that not everyone had been spared his own rocky experience.

From the back of the plane; Hellboy was cursing up a storm.

“What-its in my eye!-and my tail is stuck under the chair cushion and-”

“Calm down red!- its a weak acetic acid that’s perfectly harmless in-”

The answering screech from Hellboy brought a small quirk to John’s lips.

“Myers” Nuada’s low tone instantly caught John’s attention, bringing his focus back to the elf. “You said if they were untrained” Nuada continued, staring at the TV screen. “Is this one of those instances?”

Following his view, dread started to curl in John’s gut as they both tracked the steady spikes of weather activity. And how it had begun to taper off, and then grow a pattern.

“We’re not sure. But trained wizards tend to be supported-and dealt with- inside their families. It’s rare for one to act out like this. Not unheard of, but it’s been known for magical families to control their wizard kin with iron if needed”.

Nuada’s arm, which was still pressed against Johns own, tensed, before Nuada turned to give John an affronted look.

“I know” John shrugged, “It’s not great. You may or not have heard of the Salem witch trials, but in order for families not to be wiped out, they had to keep their magic controlled. And iron works on all magic kind”.

Already, John could tell he needed to steer the conversation away from this topic. Before Nuada started in again on why humanity needed wiping out.

“When we get there, we’ll have to do a scan of the area first. Look for elemental disturbances. If they are trained, we’ll need to be careful of wards and barriers. And they’ll be harder to track too, so our best bet is plan for a trained wizard”.

Several agent’s had already been evacuated to nearby medical units due to injuries, and while John hadn’t managed to get the updated field report yet, he suspected there were already magical wards in place. Which meant the wizard had at least some training.

Which also meant a bigger headache.

“What if they have no family?” Nuada questioned.

And wasn’t that a terrifying thought.

Swallowing the sheer panic that statement had caused, John delayed in answering, inclined his head down at his tablet in hopes for a fresh field report or new weather readings that would give a more positive response.

Because Nuada’s summary was possible.

Perhaps seeing John’s discomfort, Nuada gently pressed down into their joint arm lock, fingers twitching on John’s knee reassuringly.

“Then,” John licked his dry lips, “they’d be self taught. And with none of the usual stop-gates in place”. Flicking his eyes up to the weather chart, John looked at it with this new theory in mind. The repeating pattern towards the end of the chart did support Nuada’s idea...but something wasn’t right. It felt off.

And if John had learned anything over the years, it was that with moments like these, he paused.

“It’s likely that they’ll be volatile”, John slowly continued talking, drumming his fingers on his tablet. “Magic heavily affect’s the user through long episodes of exposure. They could have small controlled bursts of magic. But stronger magic will afflict their mind and emotions. And since emotional state controls elemental magic, one would feed into the other”.

Humming, Nuada leaned back into the headrest, almost pressing his head alongside John’s, and shut his eyes. “How grim”

Chapter 19

Notes:

Sorry for the delay gang. I'm losing steam with writing so taking time to rest when I can.
I've recently returned to work after being off for awhile so still getting back into the swing of things.

I'll def be finishing the fic, but it will be slow going. Another few chapters left. I've nearly finished writing it.

Think my next fic, i'll just upload all as one, rather than chapters.

During their two hour flight, Hellboy had made the mistake of mockingly stating how ‘boring’ the ride was. A short while later, John sworn he’d seen the pilots playing rock paper scissors, right before the plane had performed an ‘unplanned’ right wing tilt. And Hellboy- earlier scoffing at Abe’s request for him to clip his seat belt- had quickly been spilled out into the walkway, cursing up a storm.

It had been the longest flight of John’s life. 

Now finally on solid ground, John took the time to breathe in the chilled air, hoping to settle his queasy stomach; opening and closing his hands to work out the cramp in his fingers from his death grip on his chair.

He wasn’t left alone for very long, as the ground unit team lead promptly marched over, thrusting a new digital tablet into his cramping hands, and quickly caught John up on. There were no new satellite weather readings, and the sea wave patterns were still erratic. Key indicators that would tell them what type of wizard they were dealing with.

The caving system layout was a problem, as agents have been unsuccessful in getting far enough in to make map it out. Which wasn’t great, but not surprising. 

“Have we managed to identify their affinity?” John asked the team lead. The agent, probably 10 years John’s senior, shook his head and actually braced his stance as if expecting a dressing down.

Not drawing focus to it, John kept his eyes on the tablet screen and quietly keyed in his login details, discreetly eyed the agent him up and down. Buzzed brown hair, a few bits of grey peaking at the temples. The standardised black and white outfit was near perfect, not a scuff on his shoes or thing out of place. He stood with feet planted perfectly apart and his spine ramrod straight. Even the plastic name tag on the agent’s jacket was perfectly centred, labelled in bold black letters, identifying him as Agent Yeel, Temporary ground unit lead’.

Army recruit, John guessed.

It seems Manning had been serious in the last meeting when he said he’d be looking at other skilled individuals. At the time, John had assumed he meant people like Liz. But, while he’d not been expecting army recruits, it did show their good relations that they were able to ‘quietly’ recruit from those fields.

“That’s fine Agent Yeel. We don’t always get the readings. This is enough for now” John gently explained, nodding along as the Agent’s expression relaxed. “Do you have any new field reports I can look at?”

Agent Yeels boots snapped together, hand raise in preparation for a salute- and froze- realising where he was and who he was talking to, and shoved his arm back down to his side. “Yes si-Special Agent Myers. We’ve been fielding all locals to safer locations and documenting all findings. Uploaded data is taking a hot minute, but it should come through shortly”.

“Great, that’s good news” John smiled and nodded his head towards an agent waiting for Agent Yeel a few feet away. “I’ll look over them now and get back to you about ideas on entry points”.

With Agent Yeels returned to his previous duties, John swiped through the reports, probably looking busier than he was, but not too engrossed to not notice the other agents who trickled around, slowing their walks to openly stare at him, wondering who he was after seeing Agent Yeel’s reaction.

After years of working with the BPRD, John had found that many agents had done the same, eager to defer to his judgement call. Perhaps it was because of his experience with Hellboy, or the mission with Rasputin and the ‘end of the world/eldritch god’ summoning thing. And so on and so forth.

Difficult missions often needing Red team- aka Hellboy- involved. Which meant John was there. Other agents would eagerly hand these off to John and washed their hands of the trouble, rather than not die facing whatever horror of the week was causing chaos.  

Granted, the missions were always complete. Even if it meant after mission meetings with Manning as he fumed over property damage (from Hellboy) or extra funding that would be used to repress media footage. (Also because of Hellboy)

Abe had once explained that John came across ‘experienced and level headed in the face of extreme danger’. Liz had said it was his youthful optimism that brought out the best in the surrounding agents. Hellboy’s input had quickly been shut down -and Manning had said it was because “It’s just how it is Myers. Get used to it”- before lighting a cigar and leaving.

John still hadn’t gotten used to it, but evidently, it just kept happening.

Something large shoulder checked him from behind, and John had to scramble not to drop the tablet. Fingers curled over its edges, John turned to glare at the person, already expecting Hellboy, who simply smiled when he saw John’s face.

“Ok Johnny boy, we’ve waited long enough” Hellboy cocked the Samaritan up to his shoulder, finger pulling the safety back with an ominous click, “Where to?”

---

‘Where to’ was standing around more, which had Hellboy dramatically sighing every few minutes. Over the next hour, six other agents had surrounded John at a fold out table, each swiping across their digital tablets and relaying information back and forth. Abe was at John’s elbow, waving his hand over John’s own tablet and back towards the large map spread.

“Here and here” Abe pointed, “these are weak structural points that, should they receive enough force, could prove invaluable for a surprise entry”.

From behind them, Hellboy grumbled, “Yeah yeah, I got this!” and lifted up a grenade belt for visual example. The following silence from the group did not bolster Hellboy as he’d wanted. Everyone’s faces screamed-overkill- but no one was brave enough to voice it to a 6ft 5 fire engine red demon that was eagerly shaking the grenade belt like it was a Christmas present.

Quietly, John sighed, already mentally writing up how he’d justify this type of force in his end mission report to Director Manning.

‘Sorry sir, but Hellboy-‘ – was copy and pasted in every report, and starting to get old. And while ‘Sorry Sir- Nuada -’ was quickly following up in 2^nd place, John felt he still had a few more months of leniency with it before Manning cut his losses and either quit or fired John.

“Red” John called Hellboy’s attention to him, giving what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Maybe hold off on the big bangs for now. It’s a good plan...when we’ve pin pointed where the target is. But for now, we don’t want to start any cave-in’s, or cut off our routes”.

The raised red hand drooped, along with Hellboy’s enthusiastic expression. “You ruin all the fun boy scout”

A scoff of laughter burst out from their group, with John even joining in, but Hellboy did end up putting the grenade belt away.

The cave entrance had a large rock slab, shaped similarly to a door with circular swirls etched around it. Unusual enough for Nuada to squint at and Abe to pull out his books for reference.

“Hmm, odd” Abe mumbled, tapping a page, “it represents-”

“Goblin markings” Nuada finished for Abe, face pinched. Slowly Nuada stepped up to the door, running the tip of his finger over the closest swirl. With no immediate reaction, he stepping in close to the symbol and blew a puff of air onto the shape.

From where John stood not 10 feet away, he could faintly hear Nuada speaking. The tone was low, but the words carrying like they were echoing on the wind.

“Le òrdugh rìoghail, thoir dhuinn cead a-steach!”  

The words warped, Nuada’s voice doubling over itself, an undercurrent thrum under the words that had John’s inner ear canal itching. The swirls on the slab did not change. The cave made no noise. But the difference was felt. The air thickened, tightening like a second skin, but thankfully not constraining.

Looking around, John watched the shock rolled over the surrounding agents, but quickly turned back when the stone door shook. A gap was appearing, the rock edges scraping against itself as it opened and the air escaped from inside like a gasp from an open mouth.

 “Alright” John called out before any panic could set in. “For team one! Nuada, Me, and Agents Fi will enter first to clear the way. We’ll take the robot detector with us. Second team will be Hellboy, Abe and Agent Mikes, who’ll follow behind us at 10 to 20 feet. I want back up team’s of two to hold the front entrance-keep it from sealing, and have eyes and ears on anything going in or out”.

Like clockwork, training took over. Agent’s started nodding their heads, focus returning to their expressions now that orders were being delivered.

“Agent Yeel will run the external teams from the outside. I want an air drone to hold over the cave for 30 minutes once we enter, monitoring the outside for any visual changes of the cave. We’ll be using radios for communications if both teams are cut off from each other. If the external team have no contact from us within 2 hours, then Director Manning is to be informed of the situation and will give you orders accordingly”.

Agent Yeel quickly raised a hand, leaning towards John like he might physically jump in. “Sir? Do we not follow you in? Organise a rescue?”

Everyone’s eyes swung back to John, but he shook his head.

“No” John ordered firmly, and looking around to catch as many eyes as he could. “No one else is to follow us in. We cant afford to lose people to immediate rescue efforts. You need to trust that we’re still alive, and doing the best we can to resolve the situation on the inside. We have a 2 hour window, so work within that time frame. Anything outside of that will come from Director Manning”.

The surrounding agents seemed disgruntled with the plan. No agent wanted to leave a man behind.

“Follow up rescue efforts will be made” –I hope- John tried to console them, “but for now, the plan still stands. And if it fails, you wait for Director Mannings further instructions”.

Begrudgingly, agents began nodding, so John took the win and quickly turned back towards the cave –and almost smacked into Nuada chest.

Having being snuck up on-again- John allowed himself to imagine the unrealistic fantasy of attaching a bell to Nuada’s collar, ignoring the stare down from him and pointedly looking past Nuada’s shoulder.

He didn’t glance up at Nuada’s smug face. Didn’t react to Nuada’s proximity. He simply used what one of his last FBI training instructors had called ‘Keep em guessing’.

This had quickly been implemented with Hellboy, and now with Nuada.

It always bought him that paused- confused expression- that allowed him to either slip away safely, or gain control of a spirally situation.

With a level, controlled tone, John asked, “Prince Nuada, would you like to lead?”

 Nuada’s answering smirk did not fill John with much hope of this going smoothly.

---

Their first 100 feet in were the equivalent of ‘walking on egg shells’ as their team crept forward painfully slow, following behind the mechanical whirl of their robot detector that looked more like a remote controlled toy car, than a 40k piece of equipment.

With the original assessment of an untrained wizard causing the weather anomalies, it had thrown them through a loop to see the goblin marking.

“Goblins did not differentiate with who they worked with, but it is generally a rule that they did not work with humans” Abe softly explained from the back, thankfully predicting just how far voices would carry in the cave tunnels.

A human wizard- already an anomaly- potentially working with a goblin- was not a situation that John wanted to walk a team into without assessing things from all angles. So the robot was needed, even if John had to forcibly ignore Nuada’s tightening expression at the pace.

“Agent Myers” Agent Fi whispered, waved his flashlight further down the tunnel to a wall like end. “Sir, I think we’ve come to a break in the tunnel. 2 paths”.

Heeding the nervous Agent Fi’s stare which quickly bouncing between him and Nuada, John crept closer to look, pointing his own flashlight down each pathway of exactly identical tunnels.

“Red, Blue” John whispered, nodded to the right tunnel, and bent down to turn the robot in that direction. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Nuada already turned towards the left tunnel, leaving a few feet of distance between them that John and Agent Fi had to rush to close.

Walking silently on gravel and rock was difficult, with both John and Agent Fi hisses when they ended up kicking a loose stone here and there. Each time, John expected Nuada to comment on the clumsiness of their race, but he kept his mouth shut. Which didn’t make John feel any better.

Nuada was only stayed quiet if he chose to.

They walked for another 10 minutes, flashlights wavering around Nuada to help keep the path lit. So while the air was getting stale like it had been trapped for ages, John felt they would be walking soon into a dead end. Which could mean they’d need to turn back and follow Hellboy’s team-

-Nuada halted- left hand up to signal to stop, and his other slowly drifting to the hilt of his spear. Instantly John and Fi flicked their lights down to not give their position away, and reached for their guns, waiting in tense silence, listening for any noise that meant fight or flee.

A few seconds later, they heard it. Scratching. And then they saw it.

It looked to be a large brown rat, smaller than a house cat, but big enough to keep John’s hand wrapped around his gun. It shuffled down the tunnel towards them, pale noise twitching at the edges of the stone wall, getting closer and closer-and froze, giving a small weak squeak in fear. 

Still, no one moved, lights trained on the rat that had started edging backwards. Its nose twitched rapidly, small ears perked on its head, and abruptly twisted back around the way it had come, shooting off into the darkness-

-and Nuada raced after it.

--

Notes:

If you're enjoying the fic, please drop a heart, kudo's or comment.
It helps keep me engaged with the fanbase for these two and shows its still alive. Even if only a few of us are still kicking out content for this pairing.

Chapter 20

Notes:

I am losing my urge to write again but its not for lack of motivation. Its my energy levels. Life is so draining at the moment so I'll do my best to keep writing and finish this off.

Not prepared for Nuada to sprint after the rat, John loses sight of him almost immediately in the darkness.

Biting his lips to not shout after Nuada, John had to quickly throw his arm out to stop Agent Fi from following. It was too dark, and their lights only lit up the path maybe ten feet ahead. Running blindly into darkness was a sure way to step into more traps.

Pushing down his frustration with Nuada, John reaching back to pulled on Agent Fi’s jacket, drawing him closer, and whispered, “Stay close”.

A quick flick of his flashlight back the way they’d came, just to check they weren’t being followed, John took the lead, keeping his gun level with his flashlight. The beam of their flashlights would easily giving away their position to anything waiting up ahead, and now, they would have to sacrifice moving quietly for speed in order to catch up to Nuada.

Moving at a brisk walk only amped up John’s anxiety. It still felt too slow, their steps too loud in the enclosed space, and the prospect of walking into a trap was likely. Each second that ticked by with no sight of Nuada made his worry grow stronger, and again, John found himself quietly cursing him.

He’d had enough of this ‘running off mid-mission’ from Hellboy!- he did not need a repeat. Nor the resulting headache. 

The tunnel continued on, longer than what it should have. Logically, John knew it was simply because of his focus on finding Nuada, and consequent worry of stepping into traps, that made it feel so. But his hand was starting to cramp from the tight grip he had on his weapon and light.

Eventually, after a few minutes of tense walking, they finally spotted a high arched opening carved through the cave wall, and as they cautiously approached, they spotted more of those strange markings. It looked like the same shapes, circling the archway, but now they were roughly scratching into the stone, as if someone else had made them.

Weary, they glanced at each other, then back at the archway, running their lights over the symbols.

“Well, Nuada must have come through here” John weakly reasoned, and slowly edged closer, keeping his back pressed to the wall as signalling to Agent Fi to follow.

Stepping through the archway, the tunnel opened up into a large dome shaped room, the space illuminated with candles and filled books, some stacked higher than what gravity should allowed. To the right, there was a giant scroll leant up against a stumpy rock. And in the centre, stood an old man.

At the sight of him, a spark of adrenaline shot through John, and he straightened his stance to be ready, gun and light aimed on him as he stepped quietly into the room. To his left, Agent Fi followed suit, and quietly, they moved in. And that was when John saw it.

Wrapped around the old man’s ankle was a familiar rat, quaking as it looked at John and Agent Fi. But there was no sign of Nuada.

The old man didn’t react, ignoring the scared rat at his feet, and faintly muttered to himself. From John’s position, he could see the man was staring at a stained brown parchment, and having some difficulty with it evidently, as he started to stroke a stereotypical long white beard.

“-No” “-that won’t do” “-eh-” “this-no!” the old man kept on. Agent Fi turned his head, and when John looked over, he arched an eyebrow and silently mouthed, ‘Is this our wizard?’

Flicking his eyes back and over the old man, John flashed a flat palm at Agent Fi to wait, and stepped forward.

Only one way to find out.

“Sir” John started- and the old man actually leapt in fright, knocking a small stack of books over as he spun around, hand over his heart, and staring at John and Agent Fi with rounded eyes.

Everyone froze.

But, after several seconds, the old man failed to speak, continuing his panicked panting, John had to assume he was either too frightened, or waiting on a cue from them. Which was gave John time to assess for danger.

There were no weapons that John could see. He had no wand in his hands, nor any magical jewel dangling around his neck. At first glance, he appeared to be aged in his late 70’s, 5 ft 8 at most. And the longer John looked, it was clear that the man had been living roughly for some time. His clothes were ill-fitting and dirty. The long black robe he wore looked ratty, and seemed to hang off his -too thin- frame. His pants were too big for him, the bottoms cut off in jagged lines and secured at his hips with a thin line of rope. Even his sandals were barely holding together.

The old man looked like he’d been living in a cave for quite some time.

Perhaps those seconds of John assessing him had been what was needed, as the old man was calming, self soothingly stroke down his long white beard, and squinting at them.

“Yu-you- frightened me!” the old man’s started, voice gravelly with age, and pointed a bony finger at John, and then at Agent Fi. “Why-wh-wait” he paused, wagging the pointed finger- “wait, this is-good. Yes!”

Ignorant of their drawn weapons, the old man turned back to his brown parchment and exclaimed in joy at something. With another sharp turn back to them, the old man threw his arms out towards them, beseechingly, and waved, indicating to come closer.

Luckily for him, John and Agent Fi had not shot him dead for the abrupt motioning.

When they continued to not move, the old man eyebrows drew together, frustrated, still motioning for them.“Here- you mu-must come!” he demanded, drawing his arms back towards himself.

And John watched, eyes locked on the twisting of his pale hands, that suddenly curling with intent-and John abruptly felt his stomach pull tight with dread- too late- as out the corner of his eye, he saw Agent Fi freeze up. John felt it too. A strange force that had started to tug on his body, pulling him closer-

“Stop, I’m warning you!” John half shouted, and watched- quietly horrified-as his own arms were forcibly lowered to his side, as it continued to pull them forward. Automatically, John tried planting his feet, but it didn’t help, and John could see Agent Fi trying to do the same. Nothing worked.

“Bubutbut- wait” the old man spluttered- waving his hands again- and finally bringing them both within the fold of his arms that he then wrapped gentle around them in a hug. “This is good” the old man told them, “This will work now!”

This close, squished in next to Agent Fi, and with the combined panic and adrenaline, John couldn’t chance using his own special push.

An oversight that Nuada would have leapt on if given the chance, and maybe, in this case, it would have been justified. Their little training sessions hadn’t accounted for anyone getting in close, nor the risk of causing collateral harm to another agent.

Now trapped in the old man- WIZARD’s- John corrected- hold, the strange pulling sensation had changed, instead wrapping around him like a blanket and trapping his arms to his sides. Beside him, Agent Fi’s struggling had grown frantic at the realisation of it, and though it was not suffocating, John’s own heart had started pounding at the constriction.

“Hey!” Agent Fi snarled, lips curled back as he twisted drastically, trying to wiggle out of the invisible hold. “You let us go right now. You’ve already caused enough damage! Things will go more smoothly if you co-operate!”

This gave the wizard pause, his face pinched with clear confusion, quickly followed by a blink of disbelief.

“Damage?- I have caused no damage!” he insisted, mouth wobbling in almost outraged- “I ha-have done as I was meant to. I have kept the pieces together- con-contained the destruction-”.

Watching the old man become so deeply upset by Agent Fi’s words, John felt a familiar twinge of something- not quite right, and stopped struggling. Because something inside was demanding he take notice.

Many agents called it a universal ‘instinct’. Years of field work that had built up a healthy sense of knowing ‘when shit-was-about-to-hit-the-fan’. Many years later, most of those agents were dead, and when John had found himself staring at a job application for the BPRD, he’d followed that feeling again. Not knowing how much it would change his life.

Professor Bruttenholm had waved away his ‘experience’, talking of uniqueness, and with each step John took, following the Professor down corridors of increasing wonders and impossibility, there came a calm sense of belonging.

With Abe, the first meeting had been an unexpected shock, watching something otherworldly float in a glass tank. But it had taken only a moment for a sense of comfort to trickle like honey into him, telling him that this was a friend, not foe.

Meeting Hellboy had made it light up inside him-joyful- at finally seeing what he’d so long believed.

When the Professor and Hellboy had discussed Liz’s ‘accident’ at the asylum, it had brought on an unexplainable-strangling- urge to help her. He’d followed it all the way to the asylum, and meeting Liz, the words had flowed with unfathomable ease. They’d talked like regular people, like familiar friends. The offer to come back to the BPRD and been met with a broken tilt of her lips, and a feeling of coming home.

“Wait” John faintly heard himself say, which caused Agent Fi’s to shoot him an aggravated stare, but continued. “It’s not what we think it is. Is it?”

The wizard eyes watched him, quick like a bird, as he searched John’s face. So John kept himself still, let his body stay lax, waiting for an answer that seemed to hover just out of reach.

Finally, the wizard slowly nodded his head, and the pressure that had held him captive weakened, uncoiled from around him until it vanished completely. Just as quickly, Agent Fi was released, though his expression hovered on hostility, he didn’t attack, decidedly following John’s lead.

“No, dear boy” the wizard answered in a sagely manner, reaching to rest a thin hand on John’s forearm. “It’s much worse”.

With a deep sigh, the wizard turned from them and walked towards a pile of too high books, and vanished behind it. Rushing forward to not lose him, John quickly realised that he’d simply left through another door, one easily hidden out of sight.

Behind him, Agent Fi stamped his feet, prompting John to look back and catch as he shook his arms out. When he noticed John looking, Agent Fi straightened self-consciously, cleared his throat and gave a singular decisive nod.

John automatically nodded back. Turning, he made to walk after the wizard, but was stopped as Agent Fi rapidly grabbed his arm.

“Sir, I think we should call it in. Update the ground unit first?”

Which was a wise choice. And one John should have made.

Without waiting, Agent Fi wisely unclipped his radio, advising the outside units of what they’d found. There was mixed feedback of hissing static, lots of voices talking over each other, and several clicks of other agents joining in, and Agent Fi shook his head with a defeated sigh.

Together, they followed the wizard into another tunnel, where the feedback off the radio continued to bounce off the walls, and the smell of damp earth increased with the downward tilt of the ground.

The question of ‘where’ Nuada had gone was not asked, but did end up answered quite quickly.

 “You stupid fool!” a very familiar voice berated up ahead, and when they came down a set of stone steps, entering into what looked like a forge room, they found Nuada arched over something, face twisted into an angry sneer.

“Bu-but it’st not my fult! They took it! I had no way tu stop them!” (It’s not my fault! They took it! I had no way to stop them!)- answered him with a gruff accent, and curled further in on itself.

Below Nuada’s towering frame, John quickly realised that it was a forge goblin. It skin coloured like copper metal, and the evidence of its years working on a forge mapped by crisscrossing burns and scars on the arms it still had raised over its head.

It was the wizard’s panicked gasp at the scene that had John hastily step forward before things could go get out of hand.

“Prince Nuada, Wait...er-please”, John asked, if somewhat pathetically, because his usual attempt of authority went ignored by Nuada in general.

But this time, it worked, pulling Nuada’s focus as he slowly turned to direct his glare at John, and say with full confidence, “You’re late”

The urge to argue hit fast, but John managed to trap the words in his mouth, hidden behind a toothy smile. This did not go unnoticed by Nuada however, who quickly schooled his face into a mask of neutrality, but stared John down with the silent promise of future annoyance.

The goblin, wisely, remained fixed in place and silent, its eyes anxiously bouncing from John to Nuada. But it was the wizard who next Nuada turned to.

“And you” Nuada dragged his eyes over the wizard, disdain visibly mounting. “Your blood has broken that which has caused great harm to many things”.

In return, the wizard gaped back at Nuada, stuttering, “Bubut- we-we will fix it. We must! It will be whole once more”-

Perhaps it had been Nuada’s stance that gave him away. Perfectly still. Hands open at his sides. No intent of danger. But a trickle of warning spilled down John’s spine at it, and his eyes shot to Nuada’s hip holster, watching as the spear began to magically extend.

Jerking forwards, he managed to catch Nuada off guard, wrapping a hand around his wrist and pushing into Nuada’s personal space, bodily blocking the spear from being pulled out wide, and pre-emptively spread his feet to prevent being thrown off.

“Wait!-” John argued, pushing close to Nuada’s face, urgent to break through the rage before it blinded Nuada to reason. “It’s broken, Yes. Things have been done that can’t be undone, Yes. But it can be put back together! - to prevent future harm. So we’re going to do that. All of us!”.

Nuada’s cycling through several expressions; each fluttering by too quickly to catch- that John instinctively tightened his hold, still nodding his head as if it would help convincing him.

There was little to indicate on how Nuada felt about his words, so John chanced a glance down at the spear, relieved to see it had stopped growing, sized at only half the length, and re-focused back on Nuada’s face, searching for a sign that might tell him to let go...or expect a trip to the hospital. 

It was then that Nuada smiled, slow and devious, leaning an inch closer that their nose’s almost brushed, and asked in a perfectly calm voice, “And how are ‘we’ going to do that?”

Frankly, John had no idea. And he could see Nuada thought the same.

“I know how!- I do!”

-A voice happily cut in from the side, spilling confusion between them so strongly that John and Nuada stepped back, turning to see who it was.

And waving his smaller hands in excitement -was the goblin.