Chapter 4: Believe

Pairing: HB/Myers

Feedback: Welcome.

Notes: Spoilers for first Hellboy movie

Hellboy:

Myers comes into the BPRD chapel through the back, and sits in the pew beside me.

"Hi," he says, hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"Hi yerself," I smile, dropping an arm around his shoulders, "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. You?"

"Dodging Manning. Besides, I figured I'd put in a good word for a sailor I knew..."

"They tried to kill you, didn't they?"

"-Not the one that started singin' with me, I don't think."

Myers lapses into silence, head back against my arm. His hair's soft, and it tickles the inside of my elbow. I look up at the crucifix on the far wall, and I think of my father.

He liked Myers too.

I don't know what he'd think about Myers sleeping over as often as he does, but I don't think pops would be TOO bent out of shape about it. Surprised, maybe...

"Red?"

"Hm?"

"Are you really Catholic?"

"More or less, yeah."

Myers looks up at me.

"I'm not sure what to believe. I mean... I'm supposed to be Episcopalian, but some of the things we've fought, things I've SEEN... How can I 'have faith' in stuff I actually KNOW is true?"

"That's a chicken and egg thing," I reply with a shrug, "-basically you've just gotta have faith that the good guys eventually win."

Myers thinks about it, then nods slowly.

"I can do that."

Myers:

His tail's doing it again.

That slow, measured, tap... tap... tap... thing that reminds me of fingers drumming on a tabletop. I move to sit on the edge of the bed, watching. Red eyes me over the top of his book, hiding a smile.

I reach out, and close my hand over his tail, stilling it. Red lowers the book, staring.

I swallow a sudden rush of fear, and move closer. ...I have Hellboy's full attention now.

He's breathing short, and a little shallow. I'm fresh out of courage, and I just sort of look at him, not quite a foot away.

Red closes the distance, cups the back of my head in his left hand, fingers sinking into my hair. He takes a breath, and kisses me.

I'm in Red's lap now, and I have no idea how I got here. He's wrapped around me, his arms, his tail... like I'm something too valuable to let go.

That's how I wake up, anyway.

I take a moment to sort out what happened, and since we both were fully clothed a minute ago, it's a good bet the kissing part was a dream. On the other hand, waking up on top of Red isn't bad. He's holding me snugly against his chest, just like in my dream.

When Red wakes up, this could be awkward. Or not. He does seem to like me, and to wake up like this...

Then again, I think with a tightening feeling in my chest, what if he's dreaming about someone else?

I must have moved, because Hellboy turns his head, takes a deeper breath.

"Oh. Heh heh... hi there." he hugs me, then loosens his hold but keeps one warm hand on the middle of my back. -So he LIKES me here, but that doesn't necessarily answer my question. I sit up in the dark, hands flat on Red's solid chest. I can feel his inquisitive yellow eyes, but I don't look up right away.

"Red?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you like me?" I ask. -He doesn't mistake my meaning.

"...It's that obvious?"

I nod.

"Good," he says, with a hint of a smile.

Hellboy:

Just like that, Myers is kissing me. No warning, right on the lips.

Sweet, and thorough, and I... ...really can't think right now.

Hellboy:

?#&!!

I stare at the bloody hole in my leg, then at the Samaritan's smoking holster, and I just KNOW this mission isn't getting any better.

A crackling sound from front and center reminds me that it ain't OVER either...

Sparking and snapping with energy, a thing like a black tumbleweed jitters just above the pavement of the deserted intersection. Fast eddies and dust-devils surround us in a cloud of road grit and bits of incinerated newspaper. For blocks around the lights are out, and it's just as well. Electricity and this monster seem to be a bad combination.

So's lightning and un-fired bullets. Ow.

What do I have ta do, GROUND this thing? ...Or would it just go into the city's power grid if I did? Nah. It had to touch the grid to short it out in the first place. It likes the overhead trolley cables though, like a ping pong ball on steroids.

Amazingly, my radio still works.

"Red, something's got to be holding that thing together," Myers says in my earpiece. I can tell he wants to ask if I'm okay, but he doesn't. Good man.

"Yeah, try about ten thousand volts," I say, dodging as the thing blasts past me.

"How is it maintaining enough static to HOLD that?" Myers asks.

Friction.

"I need a diversion!" I yell back.

Myers rolls down the driver's side window of the truck, leans out, and chucks something clear. It skitters past the ball of hot lightning, and explodes. The tumbleweed bursts outwards in a fountain of light, partly dripping to the ground like liquid fire. I hold up the medallion from my belt pouch, and start speaking.

Myers:

It's over, and for blocks around it's perfectly dark. I grab for the door handle, and run out. Sitting on the ground in the darkness ahead of me, Red strikes a match.

The last of the spots clear from my vision as I'm walking towards him, and I can see a few blue-white stars overhead past the urban bleed. You can never see stars in the city...

"Nice work," I say.

"Ahh..." Hellboy shrugs, fumbling with his cigar. There's something wrong with his voice. He's hurt bad.

"Where?" I demand.

Red pulls his coat back from a big, nasty gunshot wound just above his left knee, on the inside. The Samaritan's holster is charred and it looks like all four rounds went off at once, including the one in the chamber. There's no exit wound. Red has a damn big bullet, some fragments of broken glass, and a lot of stuff designed to kill monsters still in his leg, probably pasted across the top of his kneecap.

Getting all that fixed will -definitely- mean knocking him out.

I give a low whistle, and start patching up Red's leg for the ride home.

He gives me a tight-lipped smile.

The agents who were securing the area start to come in, and vehicle headlights crisscross around us. Abe looks down at the smoldering gray pile nearby, head on one side, and scoops some up in a clear vial, studying it.

"Metallic filings," Abe decides, "-magnetic material found along the side of every road in the country."

"Poltergeist," Red explains. "It got cute with the filings, and used the friction to build up a charge."

...Sometimes I forget how smart Red is. He hides it well.

"A fireman," Abe adds, sensitive webbed hand held over the pile.

"A -fireman-?" Red echoes.

"Yes. From Queens."

All that electricity, all those blown transformers, and yet somehow the only fire in sight is on the end of Hellboy's cigar.

"Huh," Red looks around, and exhales smoke. "...Whaddya know."

I secure the end of the bandage, and Red can't keep from wincing.

"Come on," I say softly, "-let's get you home."

"Hey- what was that thing you threw?" Red asks, hand on my arm.

"Just a plastic water bottle," I reply.

"I -love- you."

I don't think Red meant it that way, but Abe makes an amused clicking noise in the back of his throat, and pointedly ignores us.

Hellboy:

"Anung un Rama..." the gray stone mask whispers without moving. It's a smooth-featured woman with closed, slanted eyes and a partially open mouth. There's nothing but blackness inside it.

It's carved into a wall, not really a mask in the mardi-gras sense at all, and a tendril of lime-green jungle vine has crept down the stone over the years to frame one side of her face. A long orange snake with eyes like wet black beads slithers out of the carving's mouth, and hangs down from her ear in a horseshoe shape, watching me.

"Anung un Rama..." the snake and the stone woman repeat, together. Her lips moved a little that time, with a sound like when I move my hand. The snake's tongue is flat and un-forked, like a frog's.

"Go ta hell, you two," I warn them.

The snake turns from me, and whistles a few bars of a tune I don't know.

"She is waiting," a grasshopper perched on the vine comments.

"She will come," the stone carving whispers.

"You will bring her through..." the snake accuses, happily.

"SCREW YOU ALL!!" I yell, and smash the carving with my fist.

I wake up in a twisted mess of bed sheets, and I'm glad Myers didn't sleep over last night.

"Christ..." I mutter to the darkness, rubbing my face with my hand.

Right on cue, the alarm goes off.

Myers:

"Hey Red, wait up!"

He turns on me, the tattered left side of his coat fluttering.

"WHAT?" Hellboy demands.

"Um... never mind," I decide, taking in the dangerous look in his eyes, "-I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," he bites off, "-right."

"What the heck did I do?" I demand, abandoning subtlety.

"Never mind," he copies me, hands on hips, "-I'll see ya next mission."

Then I do something really stupid. I take Red by the shoulders, and push him up against the wall of the corridor. I'm not a small guy, and while I may look that way standing next to Red, it's only a matter of degree. Still...

Hellboy stares at me with a hunted look, and waits to see if I'll flinch. I don't.

Abruptly, Red grabs the back of my head and kisses me firmly.
I can feel the relief flowing out of him like cool, clear water, and the hand at the back of my neck becomes less iron taught. He wasn't angry, he just thought I was looking for an excuse to leave. I can relate to that logic only too well.

We draw back with a soft 'pop', both breathing unevenly. I lean in, and brush the side of Red's heavy jaw with my five o'clock shadow.

"-Myers-..." he breathes.

"Your place?" I suggest.

"There's a door behind me," Red points out.

...The conference room?

"That'll work," I nod.

Hellboy:

I reach back and fumble the door open one-handed, accidentally bending the handle out a few degrees, and feel along the inside wall for the light switch.

Then I realize the lights are already on, think fast, and turn 'em off. All he, they, WHOEVER was in that room has seen so far is my left arm. I shut the door quickly.

Myers looks up at me questioningly.

"HELLBOY!" Manning roars from the other side of the door.

Myers winces, and covers his silent grin with one hand.

"What?" I ask, poking my head in around the door and looking at the darkened faces of Tom Manning and- -oh, crud- -the WHOLE special weapons team...

Manning's face alone is lit up by the unholy blue and white glow from the overhead projector. For a moment, he looks like that emperor guy from 'Star Wars'.

"Would you mind turning that back on?" Manning asks, his voice dripping with ice.

"Sure," I shrug, and flip the switch. I don't wait for a reaction, but duck out quick, and close the door.

Me an' Myers exchange one glance, and we both start running.

Back in Myers's quarters he throws the lock, and we catch our breath, laughing. Myers takes off his sweater. I ditch my half-shredded coat, and go raid the fridge. For some reason there's fourteen cartons of orange juice on the top shelf, and I smile. I drink a few, and come back with two glasses.

"Well, nobody's called me yet..." Myers says, accepting one and drinking.

"I keep their expectations low," I shrug, taking a seat on the couch beside him.

"Still, that was -close-..."

"No SHIT."

"Would it bother you, you know, if..." Myers licks his lips, unsure of how to proceed.

"It would make you different," I explain, carefully.

"The other agents -already- think I'm different-" Myers snorts.

"-No," I interrupt him, "I mean it would... It's a LINE, you know? You cross that, you become like me. Like Abe. Like Liz..."

"...You think you're the only reason that- -that I wouldn't be like everybody else?" Myers asks quietly, and I know I've just screwed up BAD.

"Myers, I don't know any different if you don't tell me."

"This is in my file, Red."

&#! I -knew- I shoulda read that...

"I wanna hear it from you," I say, skirting disaster close enough ta hear the rocks rattle over the edge. Maybe he buys it, an' maybe he can just tell I'm serious.

"You know I grew up with my uncle, right?"

"'Course," I nod.

"He took me in because my folks disappeared when I was six."

"Disappeared?" I echo, "ya mean like-"

"-Yeah. They just- -went out for a drive, and never, ever came back. The police thought it was maybe a car-jacking gone bad, but I didn't buy that even -then-," Myers explains, "...I always had this feeling that they were still out there somewhere... people don't usually dissappear into thin air, you know?"

"Not completely," I agree, trying hard not to think of what's usually left.

"This sounds stupid, I- -I know that," Myers says, speaking faster, "-but once I knew that people could just -vanish-, the world looked different. How do you talk to people that are worried about- -about baseball and politics when YOU know that people can randomly DISSAPPEAR?"

He's right. It DOES sound stupid, and my first thought is to tactfully ask whether his parents could have left ON PURPOSE, but I don't do it. This -could- have been a case the BPRD should have handled, and either way, it's a spook file to him.

I understand my father's choice just a little bit better.

Myers:

I wait for Hellboy to say something, my heart in my mouth.

He's giving this a lot of thought, and meanwhile he finishes his juice without seeming to notice.

"So what you're sayin' is, despite the way you look, you've ALWAYS felt like somebody who would fit in better down here?" Red says, at last.

"Um, basically... yes," I swallow.

"...What other surprises you got for me?"

"That's all for right now," I shrug.

Silence.

I stare at Red sideways. He glances at me fondly, and folds his hands behind his head on the back of the couch.

"So, do you still want to- uh-" Red begins, and stops.

"Fool around?" I suggest.

"Yeah, that," Red says, and I -swear- he's blushing.

"...Do you know how?" I ask.

"I've ...seen things," Red replies, carefully, "-I'm not sure I'd wanna DO most of 'em... What about you?"

"Well... I've read a lot."

"I trust that more than I'd trust a cabby's driver's license," Red grins.

"-Abe tells me I'm pure of heart," I add, somehow managing the line with a straight face.

"Yeah, that's what he said about ME!" Hellboy laughs, and takes my hand.

-