Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Myers, down!” someone shouted behind him as he felt the air next to his ear shift, something zipped by that could only be a bullet.

Instinct took over and he dropped -with an unneeded shove off someone behind- to the concrete floor so hard the vibration shook all the way up to his teeth. He scrambled for cover like the other agents in the room, sliding behind one of the filing cabinets that had been tipped over by whoever had raided the office.

Everything was trashed and it made for viable cover as another bullet pinged through the window, catching one of the agents in the leg. He went down with a cut off scream, clutching the wound as Agent Speed grabbed him by the back of his vest and dragged him further behind the wall.

“Sniper!” a male voice cried out to John's left and he felt it was rather unneeded, as everyone now had eyes on the window and was cowering behind anything they could use.

“No shit Johnson!” Agent Steel shouted aggressively. “- Greg, get your lily ass behind cover or you’ll lose it”.

The shooting had stopped and the room took on a deadly silence, everyone tuning their ears for a warning should another bullet come.

There was nothing but quiet panting around the room.

Slowly, Agent Steel rose from his position, sliding around the edges of the room towards the window to glance out in quick peeks. “I think they’re gone”.

Clay had landed to John's left, hand gripping the back of his shirt to keep him down and covered. He’d been the one to warn John, and had propelled him down to the floor with a mighty shove that had caved John's legs in.

“Alright, everyone stay behind cover-” Clay ordered, unclipping his radio from his belt and lifting it to his mouth. “All agents, be on the lookout for a sniper, building to our left just took pot shots into our room. I want a three man squad to go up to the fifth floor, sweep it, make sure we’re covered from the ground”.

There was a brief burst of static before someone confirmed the details and radioed out.

They had to wait for 10 minutes, tense and unsure if they were about to get shot at again before clay’s radio replied that it was quite clearly over. No sniper missed from that close and they certainly didn’t stick around once they’d started the show.

Lights flashed in the building across from them as the cover team swept the room for any traps or evidence. Moments later, the radio clicked twice without anyone verbalising the sweep, but it was their pre-planned signal of all clear that meant they could now relax.

“Alright everyone, up and out, the lab needs to have a look over the room” Clay shouted, hand still clutching the back of John's shirt and dragging him up by it. “You too Myers, I want this room cleared before anyone starts poking around”.

“But- it was him” John shrugged off the hand and wiped down his jacket. The front now completely covered in grey dust, unrecognisable from its previous black.

He took a moment to scowl at his ruined jacket and turned back to clay, following his advancing walk to the door.

“He’s been involved all through the hunt and he keeps leaving clues for us. We need to see what it was he was pointing us to, that’ll be where he’s going next” John quickly explained, having to take longer steps to keep up with clays marching walk.

Clay drew his eyes to Greg, who now had a bullet in his leg and turned back to John with a seething expression, “And where’s that supposed to lead to?” he jabbed his finger at the wounded man.

John fought not to shrug stupidly. It was quite clear what that meant and clay knew it, he just didn’t like his men getting shot.

Nuada Silverlance, number one on John’s list to track down, took great offense when subpar agents were sent after him.

Greg had been shot for not effectively utilising cover.

John didn’t know what that meant about himself if he’d survived the last few months hunting him. It may have inflated his ego if not for how many agents had died alongside John in their mission to hunt Nuada down.

“It...but that’s...” John tried to explain, knowing it wasn’t possible.

They didn’t know Nuada's plan, only that someone had snitched that a hit list had been passed around and Nuada had been employed to kill the secretary of defence.

That had put him on John's list and he’d been chasing him for months now with only a row of dead agents behind him and Nuada's leaving a weak but taunting trail to follow..

Sometimes, John felt he was so close, like he could feel an unbearable stare everywhere he went. He didn’t know if he should put it down to paranoia yet.

It had been 3 months and the closest he’d gotten was to one of Nuada's bullets, which hadn’t won him any favours back at the office.

But the fact that said bullets had not killed him meant he’d been given clearance to continue.

“No Myers, get back to the car!” Clay demanded sternly and stormed away from him, knowing he would try to argue to stay.

Without anything else to do, he followed the agents out and down the stairs.

He’d been added to their team when the last two labelled for assisting him had died. He’d noticed Clay’s agents throwing him queasy looks, like they were expected to follow the same path.

A car bomb had wiped out the first team.

John had been delegated to a separate car from the rowdy bunch who’d made it quite clear he wasn’t one of them, and had been following behind when it happened. He’d had to watch in shock as their car blew 15 feet in the air in a fiery wreck, the noise deafening from the sudden boom.

He’d managed to swerve out the way of the mess and collide into the side of another car coming the opposite direction.

He’d ended up in the hospital with neck strain and bruises off the air bag.

Everyone else had ended up in the morgue.

The second team had been better trained, or so everyone had thought.

They’d located a hideaway, having tracked Nuada to Berlin and had decided to raid it in the early hours, hoping to catch him off guard.

Only a well times dive for cover had saved John from the worst of the small bomb that had been detonated by a too eager agent rushing in.

A few too many wrong steps and 3 of the 5 man team had been killed instantly.

John remembered being deaf and stunned, flopping around on the floor, his movements sluggish and slow as he tried to blink away dirt and other unmentionables from his eyes.

He’d only recognised there had been an explosion from the ringing in his ears as he tried to recover his senses, unable to move from behind an overturned coffee table.

One of the fallen agents had recovered first, a big brute with a hot temper and built like a wrestling champ who had stumbled up like a drunk. He’d fallen towards his other fallen comrade and pulled him up, the other man wobbling and screaming from the having to stand on a mangled leg.

Without a backward glance for the other members of their team, they’d stumbled to the door and had promptly gotten shot in the head.

John hadn’t heard the light chink off the silencer, his ears burning with a ringing note too high to bear. But he’d saw; felt the air in his lungs freeze when the two men fell.

It had been unexpected. All of it.

He’d forced himself to lie back and play dead, eyes on the door and praying that no one walked through.

He didn’t remember how long he stayed that way, barely breathing as he lay in a room full of dead men, but he did recall slowly fumbling with his beacon tracker at his belt, flipping the switch and praying nothing else triggered.

When the door finally opened, his heart had tried to beat itself silly against his ribs as agents poured in, certain that it was the killer come to finish him off.

One of the swat team had stumbled over John’s leg before they realised he was alive, frozen stiff in fear.

John couldn’t recall any of it after that.

He’d been told that he’d been unresponsive with shock and finally had to be carried out. The medic had quickly shot him up with a sedative and he’d been rushed off to the nearest hospital where 2 days later, he’d woken up with a doctor telling him to take it easy.

He discharged himself and was back on the trail the same day, rushing through the evidence and finding a small USB, enclosed in a black sleeve. It held information to a meeting that had led them to the office, where conveniently they’d been shot at by an unknown sniper.

It was Nuada. It had to be.

John grumbled to himself and followed the last of Clay’s team out to the car, where he was to ride with Clay and Steel, up ahead of the field agents.

While the special treatment hadn’t won John any favours, it potentially worked out for the other two agents.

John was usually the one to survive any close calls with Nuada, so being in the same car as him might mean they lived longer.

“Don’t pull that face John, I’m only doing my job” Clay looked back at him from the front seat, eyes soft and his tone smooth with reason.

John knew he was trying to keep him safe.

It would feel like a personal slight to Clay if any of his team got injured. So for one to take a bullet was enough for him to drag them all out and to safety.

If that meant holding off on the chase, then so be it.

“I know...just” John huffed, “he leaves a trail each time...I just don’t know why”.

“Maybe he wants us to find him....or maybe he enjoys the chase?” Steel summarised, turning the steering wheel as he pulled around a bend to follow the black car in front. It looked to John like they were heading back to base; a small military building that housed some of the best agents the US had to offer.

What did Nuada have to gain from them tracking his movements?

From all the evidence gathered, Nuada could be arrogant but not when it endangered his end goal, and he certainly didn’t like being followed.

He’d left a long line of dead agents in his wake who’d tried the same thing John was doing, only they were dead and John was sitting in the back seat of a SUV with only sore knees and Clay glaring at him from the rear-view mirror.

John rubbed angrily at his mouth and turned to look out the window, annoyed with the idea that they would have to wait.

But caution proved best when dealing with Nuada.

Rushing in wouldn’t help them.

They made good time through the afternoon traffic and like a trail of ants, pulled into the buildings inside parking, one after the other.

As John stepped out the car, he was greeted with chatter from the surrounding agents, all jumping out their own cars to flood into the building.

He waited for the mass to go inside and then followed Clay’s broad back up to the lift. Clay and Steel ignored him for the most part, all of them stood apart in the small space as it dinged up to the 5^th floor.

No one was looking forward to telling their boss about the botched hunt.

“Myers!” A deep voice called the moment the doors opened and it made John want to tuck his head into his knees and sit in a dark corner in defeat.

It was Hellboy...and he didn’t sound very happy.

Chapter Text

A large hand wrapped around his right elbow and at once he was being tugged along at the other mans pace, his long legs making steps that meant John had to take two.

Clay wisely stepped back into the lift and waved sadly at him as he was pulled away.

Hellboy was another giant current working with the BPRD, one of the head agents of the organisation and overseeing John's assignment. He was 6ft 5 and looked like a demon when he was pissed off...which was all the time.

“What the hell happened in there?” Hellboy asked, sounding not at all annoyed with John but curious of the situation. Probably considering how John could have messed it up so badly.

“Unknown Sir, we’d just gone in to investigate the office when we were shot at. Clay thinks it was a sniper in the building across from ours, somewhere on the fifth floor I think” John’s arm was starting to become tingly from the grip hellboy had on him, struggling to keep up as they rushed to his head office.

Hellboy hummed and thumbed his office door open, the glass somehow not cracking from the force of his hand. As John was pulled in and the door slipped shut behind him, he realised he’d been pulled into another situation.

“Mr Bruttenholm....what- is everything alright?” John inquired, trying not to sound too scared now that the secretary of defence was sitting behind hellboys desk and looking as settled as if he was in his own home, resting before the fire.

“Oh yes special agent Myers, but my son feels it would be best if I was to remain close by... should anything unsavoury happen” Bruttenholm or broom as he liked to be called, answered, smiling warmly at John.

Before John could involve himself in some awkward small talk, the door swished open again behind him, followed by Agent Speed as he stuck his head into the room.

“Com centre is fully operational. Manning wants everyone in”

The door swung shut behind Speed and John looked back to hellboy, who was shaking his head and sighing heavily.

“Come on gang, let’s go play nice with the FBI” hellboy grumbled, strolling towards the door with an air of annoyance.

Broom stood gracefully from his chair, folding his jacket to his form by running his hands down the front and followed hellboy out the room with his head held high.

He was clearly used to the politics of working with the FBI.

If only John could have caught on earlier, maybe then he would still be working for them. However his own circumstances had not been ideal for the environment, being that he struggled to kill suspects who put him or others in danger.

He just didn’t approve of taking life so easily.

It’s what had stopped him getting promoted if all his past instructors could be believed.

John joined the line behind hellboy, being sure not to get nervous as to what was about to follow.

Broom only glanced back once and he had a knowing look in his eyes, like he knew just what John had been thinking.

It wasn’t unwarranted.

It was actually genuine emotion to be nervous whenever Manning and Hellboy got into a room together.

“What the hell happened out there?” A familiar voice demanded and John sucked in a sigh and held it inside his lungs, trying to draw strength from Brooms amused expression.

When he finally entered the room, Manning was sitting at the head of the long table and staring aggressively at John like it might fix the problem.

“You- You again Mr Myers” Manning pointed at him and it might have been scary if John didn’t know hellboys down to a T. He saw him puff himself up and knew it was about to get a lot louder in the room.

“Hey- that’s my agent. Why don’t you look at your little back up team!” Hellboy raged back, “Where were they, they were meant to be look out!”

“My team is not to blame here, if-” Manning started to respond and was cut off from Broom raising his hand gently in the air.

“Gentlemen please. This grievance has happened regardless of who is to blame. We can at least all agree that there is only one person we are sure is the culprit”.

Nuada

His name sat with a sour twist on all their faces.

“Agent Myers did nothing but his job in tracking Mr Nuada to the scene where it was”-Broom nodded his head -“through many faults that this happened. Now we will get to the bottom of this. Once the scene has been thoroughly checked over we can resume our search”.

“What search” Manning was unrelenting, lifting his hands up to indicate around the room, “All the leads we had led to that room, for ‘unknown reasons’”.

“Yeah well when the eggheads downstairs are done looking at it, then we might have something new!” Hellboy raised his voice, pacing along the wall and coming closer and closer to Manning.

Manning recognised this too.

While he wasn’t a small man himself, no one wanted to go up against hellboy.

He tucked in his shirt and straightened his tie, the air of anger leaving him in the face of potential danger.

Broom just shook his head at them and turned to John, “Agent Myers, please...if you can give us anymore insight into Mr Nuada it would be most appreciated”.

John coughed and let his eyes jumped from Manning to hellboy and then back to Broom.

“Nothing too new I’m afraid sir. We know that each new location we track him to, we unearth data and his next location”. John hoped the scared jolt in his gut was not because of Brooms head tilt forward, a gesture of his attention on the matter.

“-We think he’s leading us sir” John added in a quieter voice.

Broom’s head tilted an inch towards Manning, promptly stopping the man from interrupting, “and why do we think that?”

“Because...he keeps leaving them” John beat Hellboy and manning to the response.

It was his case and he’d been working on dismantling Nuada piece by piece.

While he didn’t know what his favourite cereal was, he knew he favoured snipers when dealing with a boring target and went in with a personal crafted knife when it was a challenge.

He was arrogant and self assured in his abilities and was said to have a warrior’s code.

He’d spent 10 years in the army, where he’d entered into Covert Ops and his file had thinned out from there with a ‘Need to know’ basis.

John knew more about Nuada's life before his covert ops missions than he did about after. He was sure there was a key piece to their puzzle sitting under all the red tape, a reason for ‘why’ Nuada was so good at killing.

“And what if he’s only leading more of our men in for an easy kill hmm” Manning summarised unhappily, hands coming together in a gentle gesture.

John wanted to argue against it....but he had no proof.

He had no way of knowing if all his escapes had been pure luck or if Nuada was slowly dragging him on, further into his world and uncovering something.

Broom had been watching his face the entire time, and he looked to be considering some hard details.

John hoped it wasn’t his immediate demotion.

Someone rapped their knuckles on the door and opened it a second later without any say so. It was Agent Speed again, only he looked worried.

“Myers!- line 2-” Speed disappeared as quick as he’d come, leaving the rooms occupants to turn to John.

Cautiously he stepped over to the wireless phone kept near the window as hellboy plucked up the one in the centre of the desk to listen in.

He ignored the itching sensation on his back of being watched and hit line two on his phone.

“Hello?” John said, but the line was only picking up faint air, “Hello?-this is Special agent John Myers”.

A noise of someone sucking in a breath from the receiver had his stomach jolt. He didn’t know how, but he knew without a doubt in his mind that it was Nuada.

“Special...agent-”the man on the line hummed in humour and John felt exposed at having heard it.

“Yes” John answered, “whom am I speaking with-”

“Do not act dense...from what I’ve seen of you, you are quite the skilled agent” the voice was softer in praise, not the sarcastic kind that John was subjected to by other agents.

He was a good agent, maybe not the best, but good. The fact that hellboy had handpicked him for his personal squad had not gone down well with his fellow agents come graduation day.

John tilted his body back towards the room, catching Manning rolling his eyes hard enough it had Hellboy glaring at him. He’d taken John under his wing-his very muscular and big wing- and was often the one to calm the agents down when they got on the ‘pick on John’ train.

Fighting off the set back from the praise, John straightened his back, walking towards the window to try and buy himself a moment. “Thank you Mr Nuada-”

John felt his inside warm in victory when he simultaneously heard Nuada's pleased chuckle, and got to watch Manning scatter for the tracer in the reflection of the window.

Relaxing his posture, John turned so he was half facing the room again, “What can I do for you Mr Nuada?” he asked in an inquiring tone, not too hopeful that they might just get a trace on the line.

Nuada didn’t make mistakes.

“I....had a sister...” the voice answered down the line and the tone of it...how it sounded so lost and confused, made John freeze where he was standing.

He knew many things in the short span of their conversation that Nuada’s file had neglected to point out.

Nuada didn’t know who he was.

No, it was more, he didn’t know who he’d been...and that whatever course of questioning John was about to use wouldn’t be effective.

Nuada was only hunting for answer, not more questions.

“Yes. Nuala-” John answered, sounding earnest as he confirmed it.

He chose to ignore Manning hissing about giving away such vital information, knowing Nuada would pick up other voices whispering in the background. The blame for that would not fall on his shoulders.

“Yes. Nuala....” Nuada didn’t sound like he cared who was listening in; he knew she was important to him. Or she had been once.

“Do you know where you are now?”John asked, hoping that Nuada would take the question at face value of him being kind and not adding more time for the trace to go through.

As if he would make it so easy for them

“John...I like you John. You have a...unique approach to things” Nuada sounded to be wrapping up their little talk, the noise of him walking over something like gravel crunched down the line.

John gave a small huff of laughter, trying to cover his own silence as he strained to hear anything in the background that might give him some clues.

“You mean you keep leaving me alive to keep chasing you”

“Not at all, you survived those encounters with your own skills and quick thinking. My personal feelings have nothing to do with it...” Nuada was drawing it to a close and John could see manning twirling his finger to indicate they needed more time.

John gritted his teeth and turned away from him, back to the window so he could stare at his own reflection, watching panic start to set in. “Your feeling?” he asked in a hurry, pushing for more.

John briefly parted the blinds, the itching feeling growing intense the longer the conversation wore on. Something was happening and he was running out of time-

“Before you go, I would like to know the location of my sister and father” Nuada asked, his voice hitching like he’d just hurdled something.

“That’s classified-”John started, feeling the power play of their conversation slipping through his fingers.

­Nuada hummed again, no longer sounding happy with him. “Maybe you could speak to someone who has the clearance then...secretary of defence Mr Bruttenholm perhaps?”

John's eyes dance around the room, managing to glace over to broom, sitting at the far corner desk looking very unhappy that the same hitman who was stated to be after him was currently on the phone.

“That might be a little tricky” John turned back to the window, rubbing his forehead with one hand, “I’d need time tracking him down and convincing him of the ...severity of the situation”

“Well, it shouldn’t be too hard... he’s sitting in the room with you-“-

Chapter Text

The click in his ear signalled that the call had ended, leaving a whining dead tone down his ear while behind him, the room exploded into chaos.

A chill slowly started at his feet, creeping upwards as he distantly heard Manning shouting at Hellboy about letting unqualified agents negotiate and Hellboy shouting obscenity back.

He knew- he knew Nuada had been able to see him.

The itch along his skin hadn’t been nerves at all! - it had been Nuada.

He should have known.

He’d been in too many situations where teams had died and it had only been that feeling that had caused him to jump for cover just before the bullets started flying.

If Nuada kept this act up, John's career was going to be over sooner than it had begun.

John didn’t really blame him; he was hunting Nuada pretty hard himself. He’d been on the last 3 teams going in for retrieval and had so far, been the only one to come out.

Relatively unharmed as well...

It had started some rumours and not all of them good.

Some people speculated john was secretly on his side and that’s why he was spared, a source and informant working for Nuada.

Others whispered he had ninja like reflexes that had been his saving grace.

Another was that he had a sixth sense and was secretly a mutant or that he was a robot that didn’t sleep and files all his paperwork perfectly.

The truth was that he was pretty pathetic.

He worked too much, didn’t sleep enough and certainly didn’t eat enough, and while he filed his paperwork to perfection, it was because he was setting up for an early desk job when he inevitably got injured so badly he was taken out the field.

He was too thin, too lanky, too slow but good enough to pass the marksman test. He was not one of the best fighters, but he was one of the best tacticians... enough so that Trevor Bruttenholm had kept an eye on his career, watched him succeed where others had failed.

When John’s name kept appearing at the top of each of his classes, it was only a matter of time before someone took an interest.

Then one day, while John was one of many early recruits, Trevor had stopped him in the hallway before the cafeteria, put his hand on johns shoulder and told him he was impressed.

Thinking back, John had been too embarrassed to admit his pride had done a little dance for the wide eyed stares he’d received after that. No one had caught Trevor’s attention quite like John had, and then it had been a fast track to working with hellboy.

That was another ordeal all together.

He was a big ‘and often mean’ giant with an ego that matched the breadth of his compassion. He’d taken one look at John’s bony wrists and said he wanted to take him home to his wife to feed.

Compassion had not been what John had been expecting from the towering giant who roared at FBI agents for incompetence and wiped smug smirks off recruit’s faces.

It had been whispered that he was a demon and so everyone called him hellboy, until he had actually took pride in the nickname and it’d stuck.

John had then met Liz, hellboys wife, during drill training.

She was the head drill trainer to ensure recruits stayed up to speed in fitness and didn’t show up their department. ‘Her words exactly’

Again, she’d taken one look at John, eyes dragging up and down his thin frame and cursed hellboy for sending her the only man that could ignite her maternal instincts.

John had been overall confused and frankly, terrified of both of them. He’d never been able to refuse being dragged along to dinners with the two and had somewhere along the way, been integrated into their small family circle.

He’d then met Abe, part of the research team that dealt with threat levels.

He was currently John's go between for the science wing where Abe often frequented, showing up the ‘actual’ scientists and waving away any concerns.

Abe was known by many nicknames, ones John refused to use as they were often meant to demean the man’s character. Fish sticks, fish tank, fish face...John hated them all, and never once used them. Abe had apparently noticed and had proceeded to feed John information that was relevant when he’d poked his nose into some of his cases.

It had drove his supervisor insane until finally, John had been transferred again, working directly under hellboy and with more responsibilities. It had been a promotion of a sort, but really John had seen it for what it was.

If they couldn’t keep him in the neat little box designed for him, then it was time to move him to a bigger box, one with predators in it.

So far he’d been ok, no trouble of being eaten, But... there were sometimes sharks in the water.

Coming back down from memory lane, John noticed that Manning and hellboy were still arguing between them, both with phones pressed to their ears as they organised their teams.

But Broom was staring straight at him.

“Sir?” John asked, confused by the older man’s considering look.

“Agent Myers...what do you think his next move might be?”

John didn’t have the faintest idea.

He didn’t know Nuada nearly that well, certainly not enough to be able to predict what might happen.

Squiring his shoulders, John tried to draw up a front of confidence.

“Truthfully sir...I have no idea. Nuada-” John shook his head in shame that he couldn’t provide the support that was sorely needed, “-he doesn’t hold to a plan. He has a long term goal and from an anonymous informant we suspect he’s after you...”

“But?” Broom pushes, hearing the suspicion in John’s words.

“It’s never been confirmed, but we have to take such a threat seriously. From what we’ve gathered now...he seems to be looking for answers” John finished.

Manning huffed angrily, “that’s preposterous. He knows where Broom is for crying out loud!”

He turned to Broom, face now set in grim determination. “Sir, with all due respect, we need to get you out of here-”

“The hell you are. This is the safest place he could be right now” Hellboy raged, posture looking like he was ready to physically block any threat that might appear.

Manning rolled his eyes at him in agitation, “and yet a known assassin rings us up on the phone, asking specifically for one of your agents-” here manning rolled his eyes towards John, implication clear, “and stated the whereabouts of Mr Bruttenholm. No, we need to move him”.

“Enough gentlemen” Broom’s small white moustache twitched, annoyed at having people speaking for him. “Mr Manning, get your men into position, sweep the area surrounding this building. From here, hellboy will run surveillance, ensuring he isn’t using any of the computer systems”.

And like that, Manning was nodding eagerly, sweeping out the room and pulling his phone to his ear as he shut the door none too gently behind him.

With them now alone, broom looked up towards hellboy, hovering at his right arm. “You have your task child, get to it”.

Hellboy looked to be gearing himself up for an argument, but decidedly nodded, leaving John and broom alone in the room.

“Now Agent Myers...John” Broom stood up, moving closer to him in a none threatening manner that made John want to back up. “What do you really think Nuada is up to?”

He knew or at least suspected that John was confused about it all, about Nuada and what was going on behind the scenes.

He knew John saw a much bigger picture, one slowly being put together like an old puzzle.

“I-” John stuttered, trying not to feel pressured that the secretary of the state was asking him a very important question. “Sir...I’m sorry, but I think it’s a test”

Broom chuckled in disbelief, “a test dear boy, how so?”

John shook his head, waving his hand forward as he explained. “It’s just...so odd. It’s completely off his pattern. He never orchestrates direct contact, he always moves behind the scenes. He plays cat and mouse, he sets the scene and steps back to see who comes”.

Stepping around the table, John pulled Manning’s discarded computer tablet back towards the two of them, pulling up old photos from Nuada's trail.

“Each time we’ve gotten close to him, it’s merely been him trying to keep an eye on us, to see how far behind we are”.

Broom was deadly silent as John jumped through pictures of evidence rooms, ones where Nuada had previously been or had been the base of his traps for the teams. There were markers on loose folders, pictures spilling out of old hits and brief snippets of details.

Having it in front of his eyes, John could feel a pattern slowly forming in his mind. It wasn’t that Nuada was the cat, but the mouse...and they were the cat, chasing after him.

“Here was the scene clays team were attacked at. After the room was swept, we found further evidence of Nuada hunting down key members of a group called ‘Treadstone’. I’ve come across this name before and...sir...I don’t have the clearance level to investigate-”

“You do now Agent Myers” Broom cut across him, face set in determination. “This is not the first time I have heard of this organisations name, certainly not the last in connection with loose agents. I will ensure that any relevant paperwork or files are sent to you, but-” Broom paused, old eyes holding John's strongly and with a dangerous edge, “tread very carefully my boy. These people are not to be trifled with”.

John swallowed the sudden fear that tried to crawl up his throat as discreetly as he could, “Yes sir”.

“Now, do you think Nuada will try to come here, in a building filled with agents, to kill me?”

John didn’t even have to think about it. “No”

“Why?”

“Because he’s not after you” Oh, John hadn’t known that information until he’d said it.

Broom was giving him a small smirk, like he’d known the same thing.

John had picked up a hell of a lot more about Nuada than any other agent. No one was able to get as close as they’d come since John had been assigned to the teams.

“So my boy, what will he do now?” Broom gently pushed, grabbing the closest seat to him and easing himself down.

“He wants the whereabouts of his father and sister...and he’s trying to lead us to Treadstone. But maybe...maybe he can’t get to certain types of information”. When John looked towards Broom, he was nodding his head along to his dialogue.

“He’s testing us” John continued, “He wants to see how quick the squad teams are to respond and then he’s gonna try to gain access to the information”.

That might be handy for them if that was the case.

“Well then Agent Myers, what’s say we play along, and then leave our own little trap hmm” Broom finished, popping the P to articulate the word.

It was a rather clever plan, so long as Nuada didn’t see what he was walking into.

A brisk knock on the door startled them and a moment later Clay was stepping into the room, sweating and out of breath. “Sir, nothing” he shook his head, “he got away”.

“As we suspected...” Broom sighed, making clay and his team in the corridor shift uncomfortably. “We have a new plan of action. Send word to Hellboy and Mr Manning that I would like to see them urgently. Agent Myers...”

“Sir” John straightened his spine at hearing the commanding tone broom was now using.

“The files you requested will be made available to you by archives...I suspect you know the way?”

Ah. Without having to reveal what they were talking about, John held back a small smirk and nodded gratefully. “Yes sir, thank you”.

Walking casually to the door, he stepped around clay and his team and left them to it.

He took his time walking to the lift, adamant he was not about to quicken his pace and alert anyone to his and Broom development. There was nothing to say any of it would work, only a possibility.

He...they couldn’t afford to get their hopes up on a faulty plan.

He jabbing at the lift call button and shuffled his feet, waiting for the ding and staring down at his shoes. They were scuffed at the tips, showing some wear and tear. He’d have to give them a good clean and polish when he got home.

It didn’t take but a few seconds for the lift to shrill sharply, signalling it had arrived. He allow the familiar whisk of the doors to finish opening before he strolled forward, managing not to step on anyone’s toes as he took up the opposite corner to a small crowd of people all crammed together.

A lot of them looked to be volunteer staff or interns from 4 floors up, all chattering quietly to each other to try and be quiet in such a small enclosed space.

“Basement please” John mumbled to whoever was at the front and heard the telltale click of a new button being pressed. “Thanks”.

The hairs on the back of his neck started to tingle gradually, rising up like a scared animal peeking out of its burrows. Slowly he dropped his hand down towards his pants pocket and rocked casually on the balls of his feet, hand now closer to his gun belt should he need it.

He discreetly glanced around the small compartment, but couldn’t tell who’d caused such a spooked reaction. Normally, he wasn’t such a jumpy person, but maybe being involved in the new case had affected him.

Most of the crowd got off on the 3^rd floor cafeteria, the volume increasing as they stepped out and then all at once shutting off as the doors shut again and continued on.

The tingling feeling was now minute, barely there but ready to start up again should it be needed.

John was starting to suspect that maybe this Nuada case had broken his survival instinct metre. The needle to indicate trouble stuck too long in the red and so had now gone faulty.

Thankfully it was just him and a man dressed in average clothes left to share the lift for the next few floors. His new companion was wearing pale blue jeans scuffed at the heels and some sturdy black military shoes peaking out the bottom. From what John could catch under his heavy parka jacket he had a faint red shirt on and a cap pulled low over his head.

He looked like one of the many interns-college students, trying to earn some money while studying.

He was also looking rather tired, head tilted down and leaning back against the mirrored wall of the lift.

Deciding he was going to leave the man be, John turned and tucked himself into a corner, glancing at the already glowing buttons that showed the basement floor and car park selected.

As he was contemplating whether or not he was being paranoid for getting spooked at the oddest of times, he felt a sense of pressure on him and turned, catching the man’s eye as he looked John up and down.

Unsure how the interaction would go, John went with a tired but kind smile, letting it hang heavy on his mouth and turned back to stare at the lift wall opposite him.

The man huffed, sounding surprised and happy for it and it forced johns head back around, the smile no longer feeling heavy and more genuine.

“What?” John asked quietly.

“Nothing...I just....” the man paused “I was going to make a comment about the weather....”he finished quietly, like it wasn’t at all what he’d been about to say.

John chucked at this, “well, I wouldn’t know. I’ve been stuck in the office all day”. He tried to keep the resentment out of his voice for the occasion; still pissed he had to stay back while all the bigger boys went out hunting.

Nuada was his to track, it should be him out there, following the small trail of bread crumbs and-

“Oh? What do you do?” the man asked, cutting across his train of thought. It threw him for a moment, his mouth opening and closing and he tried to now blunder his words with how slow his brain was responding.

“Ah- nothing special” John tried to deflect and instantly knew it wouldn’t be enough to stop the curious stranger. The man’s face lit up brightly and John caught a lovely smile stretching across his face. “Oh, don’t tell me. You’re a secret agent?”

If only he knew how dead on the mark he was.

“Just a—office worker” John finished lamely, bowing his head down but unable to keep his eyes from jumping back up to the strangers face when he hummed. The man’s good humour was starting to rub off on him, his face holding his smile longer and longer.

“Now now” the man started, a slow smirk spreading across his face, “there’s no such thing as ‘just an office worker’”.

The tone of voice was clearly meant to be friendly and yet flirtatious as well if the guy’s eyes boring into him were any more of an indication.

Hell John wasn’t complaining. From the brief view he could get off the guy, he was closer to John's age than any of the previously present interns. The fact that he had a gorgeous smile and pale blue eyes was an added bonus.

John laughed in a small burst, shaking his head as the man continued to stare at him and draw out the conversation. It had been ages since he’d been able to have a talk with anyone about stuff that wasn’t work related.

“So...what do you do?” John retaliated with a smirk all of his own, feeling his body heat up with interest. It was the first friendly person he’d come across in...a while.

A sharp ding sounded next to his ear and he valued his skills enough that he didn’t jump at the noise. It was the lift, signalling that they had reached their location as the doors slid aside; advertising rows of cars all sitting undisturbed.

“Saved by the bell” the man smirked, voice full of humour as he slipped out, eyes still trained on John as if he would follow him out.

He wasn’t that much of a weirdo, so John just nodded in farewell, “yeah...next time then”.

The man stopped his backwards walk and froze, his face losing its composure as he considered John's words like they were extremely important.

“Oh yes” the man smirked and it stretched wide across his face, humour pouring into it the longer it took the doors to start closing, “I look forward to it”.

Before the doors could completely shut, John jammed his hand between them, grateful that they had good sensors on. “Sorry to ask but, have we met before? I feel like... I know you from somewhere?”

The guy looked startled but he quickly smoothed his face out, that slow smile pulling back to his lips like it was an old habit. “I bet you say that to all the men you want to impress”.

That soft tone startled a chuckle out of John, who pulled his hands away from the door and stood back, watching the stranger walk away through the closing gap. What a weird interaction. But certainly not the worst one he’d had that week.

Frowning at himself, he realised his heart was pounding and the tense feeling of being enclosed with something dangerous was just fading now that he was alone.

He really needed a break.

Chapter Text

When he arrived at the archives department, an armed guard unlocked an iron door that led him into a large vault room.

He’d never been claustrophobic at all in the past but the stillness of the air and lack of noise was immediately apparent, making his breathing sound loud.

An elderly man sat sorting folders just a few feet further in and when he noticed John, he broke out into a wide smile, like he was happy to have the company regardless of who it may be.

“Agent Myers I presume?” the man asked, voice a little raspy but sounding so only through lack of use.

“Yes, that’s me” John stepped forward to shake the hand the man offered, skin as dry as paper but firm.

“I’m the ‘Records keeper’ as everyone likes to call me. You can call me Bert if it’s easier” Bert huffed, happy and pleased.

John smiled along, the feeling of isolation slipping away with the happy presence Bert exerted. “Bert should be fine, if you prefer. Did Mr Bruttenholm explain what I needed?”

“Oh yes, he said it was very urgent. Mind you, everything is urgent now a days, no time left to just sit down and relax” Bert waved his hand about as he led John down a cramped walkway, further down into a room filled with filing cabinets and a small square desk.

On the desk were 3 folders, each stacked on top of the other.

“I’ll leave you to it Agent Myers, you just shout old Bert if you need anything” Bert said over his shoulder, slowly making his way back the way they’d come.

John didn’t even get time to thank him, so he just slipped off his jacket, draping it over the chair and sat down. From the stiffness of the seat, this was going to be a few uncomfortable hours for him.

Sighing, he flipped open the top folder, so thick it bulged. It was heavily blacked out with pen and the words, confidential.

The very first thing that John noticed was the words, Nuada Silverlance, and a picture taped to the front page.

In all their time hunting Nuada, they had the bare minimum to go off. They had a brief description of a man, mid to late 30’s, 5ft 10 to 6ft 2, athletic build with pale blond hair and potentially blue to green eyes.

The profile they’d been given was rather apt, as John stared in disbelief at the face of the man he’d just met on the lift not 20 minutes ago.

He didn’t know if his mouth was agape, all he knew was that he’d just been enclosed in a 5x5 lift with a known assassin and they’d made...small talk.

Rocketing up out of his seat, he knocked the chair over in his haste to get to the walkway, tripping over his fallen jacket and managing to save himself from falling. He couldn’t stop to apologies to Bert for scaring him as he raced past, banging on the iron door and startling the guard so badly his hand twitched for his gun.

“Get on the radio, we have a breach, level 5- get it broadcast on all frequencies and make sure you get through to Hellboy-” while John stuttered through his panting, the guard was rapidly trying to unclasp his radio from his belt, eyes wide in panic as John barked instructions to him.

John couldn’t seem to catch his breath, his heart pounding painfully in his throat as he gasped to try and drag in air and not panic. No doubt the only colour in his face would be on his cheeks that were hot, probably flushed cherry red, but- fuck- he had a right to panic.

5 hours later and John was sorry for being born.

“In the building!” Manning raged, waving his hands up and down as if to bodily show how much they-John- had fucked up.

“Hey!- it’s not John’s fault- if Nuada's picture had been shown to our agents then we would have been able to identify him sooner-” Hellboy shouted back, face red and looking like he was going to hulk out of his shirt if he tensed anymore.

“-there was a description-” Manning started, using a belittling voice as he waved his hand over towards John as it was answer enough.

“Yeah, one that described half the men in the building, let along over half the agents in the force. That description was shit and you know it-”

John currently had his head tucked down to his chest, trying not to go into overload and just pray he didn’t get fired.

Hell- he’d been stood less than 5 feet away from Nuada and he hadn’t even known.

Looking back, he recognised that all the signs had been there, and again, he’d ignored his instincts.

He was so getting fired.

Blowing out a breath, he pressed his thumbs into his eyes to try and calm down, grateful of Liz as she rubbed his back sympathetically. No one knew what this meant now.

For them...for John...for the case.

“You-” Manning turned to John finally, pointing a finger as if he could use it to physically inflict harm, “you are off this case, you understand me”.

“Enough Mr Manning!” broom briskly walked into the room, thankfully unharmed but mightily annoyed at having to be present for manning and hellboy roaring at each other twice in one day.

Clay and a small select team of hellboys choosing had escorted him there, and clay quickly snapped the door shut as if to cut off them becoming anymore involved in whatever was about to happen.

“This is a joint investigation, last I heard-” broom dropped himself into a seat and glared hotly at manning, “and I am the one who gets the final say in who is involved”.

“Yes sir”, Manning’s little ball of authority quivered and died under brooms stare, the man lowering his head to try and block it off.

“Now, I have to agree with Hellboy on one front. Yes, if the picture you and your agents were capable of viewing had been passed around to Hellboys team and Agent Myers, then we may have caught Nuada slipping through the cracks. No one person is to blame here today Mr. Manning, as there were indeed many failings. Firstly, that the two investigating team do not even trust each other enough to relay information between them and secondly, that he was even able to gain entry into the building in the first place”.

Broom took a moment to catch his breath, his age catching up to him in moments of breathlessness that had hellboy providing him with a cup of water to sip from.

It would be cute if not terrifying.

Everyone knew Broom and hellboy were related in a father/son manner, but Broom took no prisoners and had no allegiances when it concerned work.

“From now on, you will work as one team. Agent Myers had his assigned orders, and you two will go through every nook and cranny in the systems and find out how Nuada got in”.

And just like that, John was being sent back down to archives, smiling apologetically at Bert, who offered a nervous smile back. This time, Bert left him to find his own way, and John dragged himself back to the small room and those 3 folders.

After a few hours of angrily scrubbing at his hair and going over what little information wasn’t blacked out, Bert had warmed up to him again, coming down the long walkway to dispose a warm cup of coffee at his elbow.

Each time John thanked him, he also reminded him he didn’t have to. He felt guilty for taking so long and didn’t want to keep Bert from going home.

Bert just shrugged casually each time and finally after the 5^th coffee, pointed to a small pew that looked like it had been pilfered from a church. There was a pillow and small quilt sitting discarded in its corner.

“You either live to work or you work to live...guess people like us never really learned the difference”. Bert just smiled kindly at John when a grateful sigh slipped out. Turning to leave, he gave John a fatherly clasp on the shoulder and left.

Groaning in pain as he stretched his back, John just shook out the pillow and quilt, knowing as soon as he was horizontal that he would be dead to the world.

True enough, when he settled down, sleep dragged him in faster than he could close his eyes.

Chapter Text

Whether hours later, or minutes, his phone was buzzing angrily in his pants pocket, shocking him awake.

“Hello?” John jammed the phone to his ear, trying to sound alert.

“You better not be drooling on those files boy scout. We got an update on how Nuada managed to sneak in” hellboy grumbled down the line, sounding exhausted but happy he had some answers. “You all done down there?”

Glancing back at the folders only reminded John of how done with it all he really was. “Yeah”

“Good, come up to the office, Liz and abe have gone to grab some food so by the time you get here, there should be some breakfast”.

While hellboy hung up on that note, John didn’t care, grabbing up his jacket and tidying the folders as best he could as he walked back towards where he would find Bert.

The man didn’t look too tired, sipping a steaming cup of coffee and smiling wide at John when he saw him finally coming back up. “All done?”

“Yeah, thanks for the help Bert. It wasn’t much but hopefully it could come in useful” John nodded, shaking Bert’s hand once more and stepping through the door.

It took 10 minutes to finally make it all the way back up to hellboys room, but he was met with the smell of warm bread and a small feast laid out on the table.

He mumbled his thanks through stuffing a warm spoonful of porridge into his mouth. Liz must have been either too tired or she liked him too much to slap him on the back of the head for bad manners.

“So the science guys think it was a zip line” hellboy summarised, feet propped up on the edge of his table and getting a mighty glare off Liz for it. While she was considering of her close friends, she rarely let anything of hellboys slip.

Swallowing his mouthful, John glanced across towards abe, who looked pale and tired but nodding in agreement. It seemed John wasn’t the only one who’d pulled an all-nighter.

They all looked wrecked.

Nuada had caught them by surprise. A rather nasty surprise but it could have been much worse.

“He zipped across from one of the buildings, landed on the west fire escape and broke in through that door. Tricky, but not hard. We caught it all on surveillance, and luckily when he got into the lift, a load of them interns got on a floor later, then so on and then you got on. Don’t know what you said, but he didn’t stay in the building long”.

John had a brief moment for pure terror to fill his stomach with ice, realising that they’d been playfully smirking and bantering, not realising that the camera’s were on.

“Whether he thought you’d recognised him or not, he went through the garage, stole a car and left. Lucky for us you got on when you did. He musta gotten spooked and high tailed it”.

John struggled to finish his food after that, nodding along with hellboy. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

Nuada hadn’t been expecting to be in the same lift as him, and it had been too close, too soon.

He’d ran... and no one had chased after him.

John didn’t like the fact that it may have sent the wrong message.

“Did you get anything from your end?” liz asked, stuffing a chicken wrap into her mouth and hummed happily, looking like she was rather enjoying it.

“I suppose” John started to say, “A lot of the information was blacked out from missions overseas, but there was some information on the formation of an organisation called, ‘Treadstone’”.

Hellboy stopped eating, face going slack. “I don’t like that name...why don’t I like that name”, he asked towards the end, face twisting in puzzlement.

Liz sighed, eyes going hard as she stared at her half eaten wrap, “they take in good agents and spit them out as assassins or mercenaries. Whatever work they’ve got them doing, it turns them bad and they go rogue”.

“So, Nuada was part of this team?” Abe asked, delicately plucking up a sandwich that had green mush compressed inside.

“Yeah” John answered, mind slowly going blank, “I suppose”.

If Treadstone was known for being bad news, did that mean they had something to do with Nuada's failing memory of his past before the missions.

It was too much coincidence...Nuada probably thought so too.

Their next best bet was to locate and track down the other members of Treadstone, find out the ones in charge of the project and then place them in a controlled environment, where they could then wait for Nuada to come calling.

He didn’t know whether it was lack of sleep or lack of sympathy for the people involved that his brain didn’t automatically go to thoughts of protection.

Abe stayed with them most of the morning, going over brief details that hellboy skipped, using scientific terms and describing how 70% of the systems fail safe modes just so happened to malfunction in perfect but unlucky timing with each other.

Nuada had caught a lucky break on many accounts.

Faulty wiring through pest infestation for door tampering alerts....facial recognition settings on the camera’s being updated and so would only recognise key members in the building. Hell it was probably getting triggered each time John or even Hellboy went through it.

The guards couldn’t even be blamed on that front.

Sadly, that didn’t stop Manning from shouting himself horse, voice now a rasp that had hellboy ticklish with laughter for the rest of the day.

Finally, they managed to scrape together the security so it was back and operational and were allowed to go home.

Liz ended up driving him to his place in his own car, his eyes crossing too often to be safe for it. She promised to be back, bright and early for him in the morning.

He grumbled his thanks and slipped out the car, saving his jacket from being caught in the door and waving her off as she zipped off down the road.

Thankfully it hadn’t rained too hard, regardless of the warmth to the air, so he only stepped in one puddle before safely making it to his front door.

Everything was as he’d left it; remotes still left discarded on his side table, shoes still kicked hazardously to the side and overall, depressingly empty of life.

Grumbling to himself, he didn’t bother with his dinner. It was far too late to eat so just trudged up his stairs, tugging his tie out of his collar and throwing it at his wash basked when he got to his room.

He used energy and time he didn’t have to set out a suit for the morning, pushed off his pants and shirt and fall back onto the bed, eyes so heavy they burned with a dull ache.

He felt sleep deprived, the length of his days mixing with night with how hard they were working on the case.

Nuada had to turn up soon.

He couldn’t take much more of it.

Chapter Text

When morning came, John had to acknowledge that Liz was ringing him on his mobile and it was only 6am.

He wanted to be bitter for the few seconds it took to realise the time, wanted to yell at her or beg her for some more time to sleep, but he just groaned at himself pathetically and answered the call.

“Ye-ah” he mumbled through his pillow, intent on trying to develop the skill that allowed his to talk and sleep at the same time.

“Good you’re up” Liz commented down the phone, sounding far too awake and chirpy for the time. Hellboy must really love her, seeing as he was currently in a very committed relationship with her and grumbling like an ogre in the background.

“Deb-atable” he knew that he hadn’t said the word right, but Liz laughed all the same.

“Get up, get dressed, start getting yourself ready for the day-” John tried to moan as pathetically as he could, trying to override her voice and what she was asking.

“-half an hour John, so get your cute butt out of bed” Liz finished and before she hung up, John could hear hellboy trying to ask her why she thought John's butt was cute when his was right there.

John cringed into his pillow, dropping his phone next to his head.

He gave into imagining what it would be like to kick his feet and arms out like a child throwing a tantrum, before deciding he didn’t have such energy to waste. Thrusting his cover off him, he sleepily walked into the bathroom and turned the shower on.

Within 10 minutes he was stepping back into his bedroom with only a towel for his modesty and an uninvited guest. A rather armed and gun pointing guest.

John’s brain registered the order of things in such a way that he questioned whether it had crashed.

-That there was someone sitting in his desk chair where before his shower, there was not.

-That said person was pointing a gun at him.

-He had only a towel on and his gun was under his pile of work clothes from yesterday.

-Nuada Silverlance was currently pointing a gun at him in his own home.

John tracked the angle of the gun and tried not to show his unease by twisting his body out of its line of sight. He was completely exposed and not even hiding behind the bathroom door would save him if Nuada decided to-

“If I wanted to shoot you John, I’d have done it while you were asleep” Nuada admitted, voice smooth and confident.

John’s eyes went towards his small side cupboard, unconsciously seeking out where he kept his backup gun and Nuada tutted before he could even try to cloak the look.

“Don’t” Nuada warned, hand twitching the gun and indicating he wanted John out of the bathroom, cautious of what he might be able to reach for.

Slowly, John stepped out and over his small mess of clothes, hoping Nuada hadn’t found his weapon under it all. But sadly, when he stepped further into his bedroom, he saw his gun under Nuada's chair, bullets popped out of the magazine and empty.

The only loaded gun in the room was the one in Nuada's hand.

“What’d want Nuada?” John asked, trying to keep his hands visible without relaying he was a threat to the man. He understood why Nuada had waited until he was in the shower.

Half naked people were left even more vulnerable. He wanted to keep John in a controlled state, just like John had planned to do to him.

“We do not have much time, if by my understanding; Miss Sherman is on her way to pick you up” Nuada inquired with an arched brow, “however, I must keep this quick and simple, so we have no more complications”.

Nuada unfolded his legs and leaned forward, smirking at John when he saw him shift in discomfort. “I only wish to know about my family, where they are-”

“-and Treadstone” John cut across him, itching to go to his draw and pull out some of his underwear to at least slip on. But there was no way Nuada was letting him reach into a draw with unknown contents.

Nuada's face twitched and for a second, it went blank and John was 80% certain he was about to be shot- before Nuada came back to himself, face set in a frown.

“Yes. As you have gather, Treadstone has been sending teams after me. Now...” Nuada stood up and John took two steps back before he could stop the reaction.

Nuada didn’t respond to his retreat, just walked around John's bed to go to his side cupboard, tug it open and drop a pair of black boxers down onto the bed for John.

To say it was humiliating would be a close description, but it was a battle between that and fear for his life, so John would take what he could get and grabbing them up before Nuada could decide to take them away.

When Nuada just raised a brow when he looked at him to turn around, John’s cheeks burned and he himself turned away, slipping them on under the towel in the guise of some privacy.

Finally with some clothes on, he swiped the towel over his arms and legs to dry them off and dropped it to the floor.

“Now-” Nuada continued, sitting on the end of John’s bed and lowering the gun towards John's ankles, less threatening but still a clear message that he would use it if he had to.

“Are you with Treadstone?” While it was phrased as a question, John could hear the veiled anger under the words.

“No. I’ve been with the BPRD for years now. I only just heard about the organisation a few days ago”. John now had his hands up in surrender, trying to feel out Nuada's reactions and how best to step around dangerous questions.

Nuada looked pleased, the gun going slack in his hands as he smiled at his own knees. “Are you aware that the teams you were on were specifically designed to hunt me down? That when they eventually found me, they would kill me, in cold blood if needed. There would be no room for loose ends”.

John really had dodged a bullet if that was the case. He’d been used like a blood hound, getting the real assassins as close to Nuada as they’d come in years.

“Did you mean it?” the words slipped out before John could even recognise asking them.

Nuada's head came up and his brows pulled low in confusion.

“That I’d survived all those encounters because of my own skills...”

This wasn’t relevant- John summarised- This is not helping. John could only guess it was nerves talking, forcing him to ask anything that would draw out what might be a bullet to the brain or back.

It took a few seconds for Nuada to react to the question, but he stood and floated right over to John, invading his personal space and staring down at him sternly and then...less so. His eyes jumped around on John's face, looking for something while John tried to ignore the random sway of the gun in Nuada's hand that brushed against the bare skin of his thigh.

“I read up on you-” Nuada's head twitched as if he didn’t really want to say the words, but he continued, “- every city, every new hide away...you were only a few hours behind”.

He sighed heavily and the warm air he exhaled swam down John's skin. Goosebumps rippled along his arms and legs and John held off his shiver. He was cold from lack of clothes and Nuada was radiating heat but he wasn’t about to step into-

Nuada dipped down fast and John blinked in bewilderment as he realised Nuada was kissing him. A hand lifted and cupped around the back of John's head, holding him in place so Nuada could tilt his head and lean back down.

Rearing his body back, John pulled his head down, shaking slightly as his body dumped adrenaline into his blood system in case of a fight, “Nuada, wait-you-I cant-”

While this close, John was reminded that Nuada still had a gun in his hand and...John never said he had a great survival instinct. His brain screamed two different things at once, to stand still and let Nuada kiss him so he didn’t get shot and to also fight and kick the gun out of Nuada's hands.

John would not advise kicking solid metal with your bare foot, but he barely felt it under the hum of his body’s fight of flight response.

He caught Nuada by surprise, knocking the gun far across the room and body rushing him, knocking him into his dresser.

The problem with this plan was Nuada was a trained assassin, and John could only relate to the ass bit, when Liz kicked his all over the training mats.

Nuada steadied himself by throwing out his arm, clearing the top of the dresser in one wide sweep and twisting with his hip in a swift turn, raising John nearly off his feet and slamming him hard into the wood.

It had the effect of smashing the solid dresser into his back lower ribs, effectively knocking all the air from his lungs and allowing Nuada to regain control before he’d even completely lost it.

It was over in seconds, Nuada now without his gun but still fully capable of using his body to hold John up against the dresser, trapping his arms between them in a tight hold.

“Clever to take advantage-” He hissed, his lip only slightly bleeding from a lucky clip from John's bowed head, “but stupid overall. You do not rush someone who has a gun on you in such close proximity”.

“Thanks for the pointer; I’ll be sure to-”

A car honked on the street and as one, they looked towards the front bedroom window.

Liz.

“No” John shook his head, watching Nuada's eyes start to roam around the room, “wait, just let me wave to her, you don’t need to get her involved- if I wave she’ll just see me and give me a few minutes to get dressed-”

John was pushing against Nuada's hands that still held him trapped, trying to draw his focus back to him.

“Fine, wave to her. But a forewarning, I do not wish to harm her but if you try to signal anything else...” Nuada didn’t need to finish for John to get the message.

Slowly they stepped around each other; John was now free and moving towards both the fallen guns and then stepping over them to part his curtains.

He could see Liz sitting behind the wheel of his car. When she saw him, her face broke out into a smile and she waved 5 fingers at him.

He didn’t have much time.

John waved back and closed the curtain again and when he turned around, Nuada had dropped his suit onto the bed and was holding a knife in his right hand.

It made a cold sweat break out over John’s skin when Nuada walked past him to pick up his lost weapon. He felt even more like a failure when he didn’t try to stop him.

With so little time, John pushed himself over to his clothes and threw them on as fast as he could, not dignifying Nuada with a look when he placed his empty gun within reach and visibly pocketed John's magazine.

“Are you going to let me go?” John asked, hoping Nuada didn’t decide to just shoot him for asking.

“...Yes” Nuada answered, abruptly turning and walking out of John’s bedroom.

John tracked him going down the stairs and then the noise of his backdoor opening and shutting thudded through the floor.

He was allowed to stand gaping for a few more seconds before Liz was honking the horn again to hurry him along.

Like lightning through his body he rushed, grabbed his gun and keys and shot down his stairs two at a time. He must have startled Liz when he flung his door open because when he jogged up to the car, she was staring at him, slightly peeved.

“What happened to--John!” Liz cut off sharply, hand twitching to go for her gun in the cup holder.

“Easy Agent Sherman, Agent Myers, get in the car” Nuada said from nearly directly behind him, pressing something hard and cold up against the back of his head.

John tried to not let the shape of Liz’s startled and worried face be imprinted in his brain, forever reminded of this moment and slowly reached forward to pull open the passenger door on his own car.

“Agent Sherman, throw it into the back seat please” Nuada commanded and begrudgingly, Liz tossed her standard weapon into the back, glaring venomously at Nuada through the glass of the window.

The back door popped open and Nuada slipped into the back of the car, gun still trained on John through the headrest.

“Forgive me for such brutal circumstances, but I really have no choice”.

Liz huffed, grinding her teeth as she started the car and they pulled out. When they were finally on the main line of traffic, Nuada lower his gun out of view of the window but kept it trained on John's back.

“Didn’t realise you’d fallen so low Nuada” Liz spoke up out of the blue, taking a turn slower than needed but understandable in the circumstance. “From what I hear, you were one of the best...”

“Thank you for that Agent Sherman, but my memories are a little brittle of my time before Treadstone. I don’t wish to harm either of you, you are both good agents, but I must speak with Mr Bruttenholm” Nuada insisted.

“Why? - Aren’t you trying to kill him?” Liz pushed, taking another turn that was clearly not on their designed travel plan.

“What” Nuada scoffed from the back, raising his arm the weapon back up to John's head level, causing Liz to discreetly steer back onto their normal pathways.

Nuada knew what she had been doing and was acting accordingly.

“Why would I want to kill him...he is the only one with clearance on the whereabouts of my father and sister” Nuada muttered, dropping the gun down and watching every twitch and turn Liz made.

He understood that Liz was the major threat to him at that moment. John was merely his bargaining chip.

While John wasn’t fully involved in the talking, he could watch Liz and then Nuada in the rear-view mirror, so he saw how Liz started to nibble on her lower lip.

She was considering something.

“They’re in protective custody....and if your anything of the agent you once were, you’d let John go and I’ll take you to Broom”.

What!

“Liz-” John started and then froze when Nuada cut off a small outburst of laughter in the back seat.

“I would love to. I must ask though, John here has shown admirable skills in hunting me down...I can only wonder who trained him”.

Liz didn’t have anything to say to that as they were drawing close enough to their building that they could see it in the far distance.

John had received basic training like all the recruits, but when he’d stepped into the role years and years ago, it was like he’d been starved all his life and finally presented with a mountain of food.

The BPRD had been his true calling. He was constantly asking for more.

More attention from Liz in training, more advise off Abe about the evidence and the pathways of it, more direction and driving power off hellboy. Hell, once or twice he’d been left to do basic guard duty for Broom and they’d ended up going through the history of the organisation and what its future goals were.

John loved his job. He lived for it. He was even willing to die while on it-but he didn’t think one day he would be sitting in a car with the possibility that he could lose one of his close friends or have said close friend witness his death.

“No one...everyone. He was a sponge when he came to the organisation. John built himself up to where he is now...no one else” Liz answered, sending John a weak reassuring smile.

“Fascinating...but I must ask you now to speed up and...John...” Nuada prompted him to glance back at him, “get down”.

Automatically, John ducked down as Liz’s frame grew tense; yanking the steering wheel to the left and swinging them wildly out into a new lane of traffic.

“What are you doing?!” John shouted over the screeching of tires and the sounds of traffic coming in from the now open window. His face and back was currently being blasted by cold air and small pieces of glass from where it had been shot through from the outside-

Liz roughly swerved the steering wheel, causing Nuada to slide around and yet still make perfect shots as he lean a few inches out the window to shoot out the tires of advancing cars.

John could hear the loud recoil of noise bouncing around the interior of his car, but with no loaded weapon, all he could do was stay down out the way and let Liz and Nuada take care of them.

“Left here” Nuada stated and the next second, Liz was pulling them into another turn.

John could see him through the gap in the seats, casually reloading his gun and then firing twice out the back window, splintering the glass and followed closely by a quick succession of loud metallic creeks in the distance.

Liz looked right at home, using the maze of backstreets to loop through and then behind some of the chasing vehicles. Smooth as can be, she took one hand off the wheel, unclipped a small handgun from under the dash and then shot out the back window of the new cars.

Hellboy had always said she was the best shot he’s seen with a hand gun.

The cars swerved to the sides to try and evade her gunfire, effectively crashing into side building and taking them out the chase.

Liz threw John a pleased wink and swung the wheel, sliding them sideways down a street and perfectly lining up to buck it full speed down another.

It was like one of the many surreal and unrealistic car chases you saw in action films, only Liz was every one of the clichés piled into one very unbelievable and badass package.

“God dammit” Liz shouted as a bullet hit the car radio and it crackled static, hissed angrily and then died.

After one too many sharp turns, John’s stomach was lurching and he was ready to chance popping his head up just so he could check how many were left. He could also hear sirens in the distance, drastically getting closer.

“In here-” Nuada started to say before Liz cut him off with “-I know” and threw John’s poor car into reverse, plunging them backwards into the dullness of the base car park.

They were greeted with what John would have expected considering how much noise they’d been making. The car park was flooded with agents, weapons drawn as Liz careered John's car down the slope and finally to a stop.

The two cars that had been chasing them made to turn in and fell into the trap of being greeted with a building full of agents armed and ready to fire.

“Get out the vehicle”- - “Get down”—

Agents shouted warnings to the two new vehicles occupants and John glanced up over the dash, watching each car pour out four men each who quickly dropped assault guns down and held their hands up in the air.

Groups of agents rushed forwards and the men were quickly taken into custody, but that just left-

“Liz-- Nuada!” Hellboy roared, coming towards the car and looking like the exact moment it was clear he was going to shoot someone. When he was within sight, his eyes scanned the inside and he eased off his trigger when he saw John hunched down and safe.

“Get out the car with your hands up” hellboy ordered, roughly pulling open the backdoor to securely train his gun on Nuada.

Very slowly, Nuada dropped his weapon onto the floor of the car and slid out into full view, accepting hellboys rough treatment when he swung him around to handcuff him.

“You’re lucky they’re safe you piece of-”

“Red, this is code 6” Liz interrupted with perfect timing, jumping out the car with a happy skip and slamming the door shut- or as shut as it would go from the amount of damage to its frame. She might have hit a few mail boxes on the way.

John on the other hand....

Clay ended up helping him out the other side, letting him sway against him but sadly, it was Agents Steel’s shoes that had to pay the price when John threw up from being car sick.

Overall, the exchange could have gone better.

Chapter Text

After a month of interrogation and two failed assassination attempts against Nuada, Broom changed tactic, enforcing a crack down on the organisation Treadstone.

But just because they had him in custody, didn’t mean he was safe.

From the looks the other agents were throwing him, Nuada was still in danger of being killed. Too many had lost friends to some of his traps.

Currently, John was stood in Brooms high windowed office, wishing he’d take back the orders he’d just issued.

“Transfer him sir?” John repeated Brooms words back to him, hoping they changed.

“Yes Agent Myers. We all know you have the best track record with him-” Broom chuckled to himself and John wanted to be mortified, hoping it wasn’t implying-

“He trusts you Agent Myers. He was once one of our best agents, so I know you will do your very best and make us proud” Broom finished with a smooth smile, tilting his chair to the side knowingly.

How could John argue with that? Simply...he couldn’t.

“Yes sir”

A few hours later, John was once again in another passenger seat of a bulkier car, Nuada concealed in the back and clay at the wheel.

The agenda was simple.

Drive Nuada to the destination known only to the three of them, and then leave him to make his own way to the third location from Brooms expression instructions.

Neither Clay nor John himself were allowed to know of the new location.

They were to leave their mobiles behind in case of tracking and pick up new ones at the first location, where they would stay the night if needed and then move on to a second location and then leave Nuada to it.

So far, it sounded like such a bizarre plan that John wanted to turn around and question it. But the orders had come directly from Broom himself.

Nuada had not been happy and for most of the morning’s car journey, had grumbled at clay for playing shit music on the radio.

Whether it was that or something else that had ticked Clay off, there was now a silent war going on that John was not, nor willing to be part of.

Clay sang loudly along to the radio...Nuada dismantled his gun into tiny piece and belittled his marksman skills. Clay did as much driving, and swerving as he could to make Nuada - - and unintentionally John- - car sick.

When the first location came up, they all breathed a sigh of relief and booked into the isolated hotel.

The old lady at the front desk had a worn but loving face and a weak Spanish accent. After clay had spent 10 minutes with her booking the rooms, she’d turned to John and tapped him lovingly on the cheek and called him ‘Chico Dulce’. (sweet boy= spanish)

John didn’t understand, the words sliding close together in perfect rhythm that he just blush and stuttered out a thank you that made Nuada shake with constrained laughter.

“You get first nights watch Johnny” Clay happily exclaimed, dropped a room key into his hands and then walking off with a whistle to a room 3 doors down. John would even say he shut his door a bit too hard, the sound loud and final.

It just left John standing outside a rather deserted car lot with Nuada hovering behind him.

“Lets get in shall we?” Nuada nudged his arm and when John didn’t move fast enough, he plucked the key out of John's hand and opened up the room himself.

Thankfully he didn’t shut the door and lock John out.

To say the room was what he expecting was...accurate. There was a basic flowery wallpaper and grey curtains to cover the windows but everything was thankfully clean.

It was as bland as they came. You could cut and paste the design to any other hotel in the area within 30 miles. Assuming there was anything like it close enough for how cut off from everything it was.

At least the bed didn’t creek when he sat down on it, Nuada already lying down on his own a few feet away.

“This should be over soon enough” John said to the open room. He couldn’t sit in silence, not when he could see Nuada was clearly awake, bobbing his foot patiently.

“Not for me...not ever for me” Nuada hummed and clicked his tongue annoyingly at the overall scheme of things.

Sitting forward, John rubbed his hands against his thighs and sighed, “Well, you know Broom’s gonna be looking after you. There shouldn’t be-”

“-And you” Nuada interrupted, now sitting up and matching John's posture, inevitably drawing them closer from how little room the beds were apart.

How had John thought the beds far apart before when Nuada needed to only move and he took up space where previously he didn’t?

“Me?” John questioned, hoping he didn’t sound spooked, wanting to keep the ease of conversation going.

“Will you be keeping an eye on me?” Nuada allowed a smirk to draw his lips wider, hooding his eyes in a very none-innocent manner.

“What...like you did me?” John tried to venture back on track, to old grounds they’d visited before.

“I told you-” Nuada started to say and John nodded before he could really get into it.

They could clearly see the moment the other thought back to the scene in his bedroom, when Nuada had been explaining and then...not using his words.

When Nuada reached for him, John was anticipating it, leaning back before anything could begin. “Nua- I can’t... Clay’s literally 3 doors away” John explained, having to lean back against the wall when Nuada just came to sit next to him, tilting his body closer.

John silently cursed Nuada for being able to look so good while on the run.

“Seems far enough away” Nuada agreed, rubbing at John's chin with his thumb and then taking hold of it gently, pulling with just enough of a tug that John felt his body start to move forwards.

“I’m meant to be protecting you” John breathed the words against Nuada's mouth, the man clearly not caring about any excuse John could drag up.

Nuada waited a moment more, a smug smirk apparent as he managed to finally pull John as close as he wanted him. “Please...I know you can multitask. Also, I’d be insulted if you didn’t think I would be able to kill anyone who came through that door unexpected”.

Crap- John had a moment to visualise Nuada in all his glory, the composed shooter from the car chase, the silence and unexpected man who snuck into his house and –

It was Nuada who growled into the sudden kiss, pressing them together and then deciding to take the much needed-wanted-time to delve deeper in exploring John's mouth.

But it was John who gasped, arching forward and pushing Nuada back onto his bed, trapping him and kissing back as urgently as he could.

He was meant to be working, he was meant to be protecting Nuada-

When his arm moved of its own accord, John glanced down to realised Nuada had managed to slip his jacket off and nearly completely take his shirt with it, leaving his chest bare. But it had gotten stuck at his hands, the wrists buttoned too tight and stopping the progress.

With a sharp tug Nuada pulled John’s arms free, breathing a gasp into his mouth as he grabbed John's head and drew him back down for a kiss.

It was the like electricity to his inside, lighting him up with an almost feral lust.

He bit at Nuada's lips, feeling the response of stuttered breath and then Nuada arching up and pulling him down by the hip, rolling them together in perfect union.

His brain and thought patterns took a nose dive after that.

Nuada strained against him for a few seconds, trying to work out where he wanted to touch most until he deducted that he wanted a different position, twisting them so John would end up on the bottom.

“I was enjoying that” John complained before Nuada could continue kissing him, which was just enough time for Nuada to swipe his tongue along John’s lips and then his chip, running it down the tendons in his neck and lavishing the dip of his throat.

The muscles in his neck didn’t know what to do, twitching as he grunted loudly and only making Nuada hum happily, lingering over a delicate vein that was driving John to madness.

John pushed roughly at the jacket Nuada was still wearing, trying to co-ordinate his movements to get them off. Nuada got the message quickly when John wouldn’t settle down, nearly ripping the clothes off himself so he could get back to-

“Fuck!”

Nuada was consistently pressing down into him, drawing him a few inches closer to completion only to lean away when he finally picked up a rhythm.

“-Nuada-” John demanded, hands grabbing at Nuada's hips before he could even think to try and lean away.

“-my bag-” Nuada turned and bent his body in a way that must clearly hurt, but was able to reach for his bag and tug it over to them. He turned it upside down and under spare clothes and underwear, several condoms and a small tube fell out last, no doubt secreted away at the bottom.

John nipped Nuada's collarbone for the wait and decided he liked the noisy gasp Nuada made when he did it, so it dragged his teeth down his chest while Nuada sat up to unwrap one of the packets.

“Fuu- John” Nuada positioned himself just right and rocked down into his lap, causing John some of the torture he thought John was inflicting upon him. Lying back and throwing a hand over his eyes, John chanted a mantra of “I hate you-hurry up” as Nuada rushed to push his pants off and start to tug on John's.

John hadn’t even thought that far ahead to remove his own pants.

He squirmed, trying to help but his brain was flooded with too much crap to move his legs right without knocking Nuada about. Finally Nuada stepped back and pulled his pants and underwear off in one go, dropping them on top of his pile and climbing back onto the bed.

The brief delay helped John in grappling with any dilemma he may come up with, allowing him to lean back and let Nuada hook his legs over each of his shoulder and press the cool gel against his opening.

John hissed sharply, the coldness too much of a contrast and it became uncomfortable quickly. He contemplated tensing his leg muscles for some resistance, but Nuada merely rubbed at his thigh and kept going, rigorously rubbing the tender skin until it became John’s whole focus.

His legs started shaking as he tried to muffle cut off groans and press down, just for some relief.

“John-” Nuada moaned and then used a dirty trick, leaning forward to take the both of them in his hand. They just about fit, Nuada's having to widen his finger to pass under the heads where the nerves were bundled and-

John's hips lifted off the bed and distantly he felt Nuada thrusting fingers into him, stretching and twisting now that he had his chance. It was a faint sensation compared to how hard and rapid Nuada was stroking them together, trying to draw them quickly to the climax.

“Ah- gonna-” John hummed and twisted, trying to prolong or cut off the pressure before Nuada could take him too far. After everything Nuada had put him through, it felt almost like being cheated for it to end so quickly.

“I-” Nuada panted, thankfully pulling his fingers back and his hand away and pushing John’s legs wider apart, “-can’t wait-”.

The pleasure dulled for the seconds it took Nuada to get himself pressed fully into John, groaning loudly and crushing him back into the bed as John tried to focus on the distant pleasure rather than the unpleasant burn and stretch.

When it became just nearly unbearable, Nuada pulled back and slammed back in, the two of them letting out guttering moans together.

John was slowly squeezing the shape out of the pillow, clenching it between his hands and head as he writhed and tried to keep up.

But Nuada was built with an athlete’s physique and he moved like one to, body toned and moulded to be on the move as he held up John’s legs when he couldn’t any more, cradling them securely as he single minded thrust into John, shoving them further up the bed without a care.

John didn’t know how much of a biter he was until Nuada had to quickly pry his hand away from his mouth, glaring at John for the teeth impressions.

He bit and he clawed and he growled even as Nuada tried to hold him down, tried to arch him in just the right way that for a second John might miss out on the torrent of pleasure currently coursing through him.

Arching his spine, John felt his stomach and leg muscles tense in warning so he grabbed hold of Nuada and crowded him closer.

Not that they could get much closer to how they were, Nuada folding him nearly in half so he could kiss John anywhere he could reach. He peppered light kissed on his chest, his cheeks, his forehead, lingering over his lips until John caught on that he wanted a kiss.

Drastically the hold changed, Nuada tightened his grip on the backs of John’s legs and pressed bruising hard. His pattern was picking up and he smiled breathlessly down at John as he took up John’s dick and started to rub firmly in time with his thrusts.

John didn’t stand a chance.

Growing taut, his body bowed over and then arched, tensing every muscle in his stomach as he came, accepting the pressure of a hand over his mouth as Nuada muffled his outburst.

They still had other guests to consider.

The hand over his face tensed to the point of pain and then let go as Nuada wrapping his arms around and under John to bury his face in his collarbone and sharply grunt several times in quick succession.

Gradually Nuada’s hips slowed, easing John down into a comfortable position so as to take the ache out of his legs.

“You are exceptional at this”, Nuada huffed, entirely out of breath and pleased. “You are a man of many talents John”.

“You did most the work” John slumped sideways to give Nuada room to lie next to him, enjoying basking in his body heat a bit longer before he decided to abandon him for his own bed.

Nuada laughed into the bone of his shoulder, head rested lightly so as not to make either of them uncomfortable and settled his weight down in the centre. It effectively left John trapped against the wall.

Bastard.

Nuada grinned at him for the trouble and even went so far as to snuggle into John’s pillow, the image of a tired lover.

John only shoved him over enough to steal some of his pillow back and fell asleep to Nuada breathing evenly in his ear. He ignored the fact that Nuada had a hand wrapped around a gun under said pillow and one leg entwined with his own.

He was nice like that.

Chapter Text

“Why is it always snowing?” Nuada grumbled from the back seat, rubbing his hands together and glaring at the thick gloves Clay had on. John could sympathise, as he didn’t have any gloves either, and clays looked mighty warm. But he was the driver, so John let it go on the grounds that he would actually need his fingers and thumbs to get them to their location.

The trip from the hotel hadn’t been so bad, Clay having loaded up the car and left John to poke Nuada awake and not get shot for it. Now they were moving onto their second location, and John was stuck with the two of them in an enclosed space for however long it took.

“It’s the god end of no where...what were you expecting, sun and sea?” Clay answered, a smile evident on his face. He looked inches away from whistling.

“I was expecting not to lose my fingers to frost bite” Nuada snapped and John decided to intervene before anything could spark the feud between them.

“Where are we?”

“Classified Johnny. Even I don’t know. All I’ve got given is a sat nav with directions to the place. Look” clay indicated with his fingers out the window, “There aren’t even any signs around”.

John thought that was odd, and when he rolled his eyes to Nuada on his right, he was biting at his lower lip in thought.

Slowly, they pulled up to a discreetly cloaked cottage, the place tucked nicely away behind a large group of trees as if it was planned to be hidden from view all along.

When they pulled up, someone was already waiting for them at the door, looking impatient but not overly worried. They even looked familiar.

Nuada gasped quietly in the seat next to John, eyes locked on the woman outlined in the doorway of the cottage and whether unconsciously or not, his hand floated to the door handle, tugging on it and swung it open to let a blast of cold air in.

But Nuada was not so quick to get out the car.

He took a few quick breathes, chest heaving as his eyes remained locked on the woman, until finally he slipped out as quiet as can be. His feet landing with a dull thud in the snow, but he made no move to approach the house. He just stood in wonder, gripping onto the car door; shielding himself behind it while he stayed near the safe harbour of the car.

The woman at the door must have also found this odd, as her hand went to her head as if she could zoom in, trying to see through the fat droplets of snow to who was there.

John quietly popped his door open and stood up, ignoring the instant coldness that seeped down the collar of his coat and watched Nuada walk like he was just discovering how, half stumbling slowly towards the cottage.

“Nuala?” Nuada gasped, the words sounding like a plea and prayer in one breath as he seemed to find his courage and stumble faster through the snow.

The woman at the door seemed to recognise him, because John got to watch as she threw herself forwards, thin clothing be damned as she raced towards Nuada. She reached him in a few strides and grabbed him about the arms, staring hard into his face as if she couldn’t believe it.

“You know we can’t stay right?” Clay spoke up from inside the car, casually drumming his fingers on the wheel.

“Yeah...just-” John sighed, keeping his voice low to not disturb the siblings as they clutched to each other, Nuala leading them back towards the cottage. John could now see an elderly man waiting in the doorway, his long white beard touching the base of his belly.

When Nuada and Nuala made it up to him, he let out a loud sob and threw out his arms wide, engulfed them both in a hug and crushing them all together.

John’s face hurt from how hard he was smiling or perhaps it hurt to witness such a reunion. He knew a bit about their story, how long they’d waited for news about Nuada, about a brother gone off to war...about a son lost to a covert program.

The Silverlance family had lost a lot. But when Nuada had gone missing, they’d then had to be shoved into witness protection for their own safety, unsure if Nuada would turn around and lay waste to everything behind him.

It stung to see how much they’d been hurt by his loss and now, how the pain of waiting had finally paid off.

John stayed long enough to watch them all disappear and the door shutting out the light from inside the cabin until finally he ducked down and got into the passenger side of the car.

Clay didn’t mention his reluctant, just turned the car around and went back the way they’d come.

They wouldn’t need to worry about tire tracks with how hard it was snowing. All of it would be covered up within half an hour.

“You ok boy scout?” Clay asked an hour into the return drive, making sure to keep his eyes on the road.

John was grateful he wasn’t looking at his face when he gave a half truth. “Yeah”

Epilogue

“Myers down!” someone roared from behind him and John had a sense of deja vu as he was tackled to cover, unsurprisingly taking the full force of the drop plus whoever was behind him.

It was the office shoot out all over again. John wouldn’t be surprised if the windows started to get-

“Sniper!” Another voice called and John stilled, chin pressed to the floor as his new friend climbed off him and leant around a support beam to peak at the window. John could already tell what was about to happen, so when said agent then let out a yelp, John only sighed heavily and rolled up onto his knees, pulling the agent back to cover.

He’d been shot in the leg, the wound a small hole where the bullet had passed right through. Only it was bleeding profusely and the agent’s eyes were now rolling in his head, ready to faint at the sight of his own blood.

“Myers, what’s going on” Clay’s voice trickled through his belt radio, sounding alert and focused compared to all the rookie agents in the room panicking and returning fire out the front window. It just left a hell of a lot of noise for John to have to shout over.

“Sniper on the building across” He answered, casually putting the radio on the floor and unclipping a section on the rookies jacket that held bandages. They’d all come into it fully equipped, but by all accounts, not fully prepared.

Then again, John hadn’t been expecting for their new company.

“Say again-” Clay asked, sounding pissed off. John was certain he’d understood him, but still he lifted up the radio and repeated the words back to clay, smiling down at the agent in his lap who looked too young to be doing field work so early.

The guy looked stunned by John’s cool manner.

“Son of a bi-” the radio cracked and cut out from the volume of clays voice. “Why is he here?!”

John didn’t have an answer for him, so he just slid the agent the rest of the way to the floor and did his own surveillance. A quick bob around the corner confirmed that there was indeed someone set up on the building across from them.

A black shape on the roof, but it could have been loose boxes for all the rookies knew. John could see the mesh netting over it all and knew instantly that a certain someone had set up a sniper nest.

“Clay” John huffed into the radio, the room now growing quieter now that the immediate panic was over. “Get some guys over to the roof of the building. There’s a sniper nest set up all nice and cosy, wouldn’t want them to think they overstayed their welcome”.

The rookie agents were all now looking to him-like they should have been as he was the senior agent and squad leader, but he just held a hand up, signalling to wait.

At least they listened, tucking themselves into their hideaways as far as they could. There was still some hope for them yet.

John sat with the wounded agent for the few minutes it took clays team to investigate the building, patting the agent on the shoulder and ensuring him he would be fine.

“I hate him!” Clay’s voice suddenly erupted from the radio, causing John to grapple it up off the floor and lower the volume so he didn’t spook the rookie agents so bad. “I hate him!” Clay said again, sounded more and more agitated. “He even left a message!”

“Saying-” John prompted, pressing the radio to his lips and sliding himself away towards the door to try and get some space and privacy.

“Dear John”, Clay started to say in a higher girlish tone, “you’re looking well. Hopefully you can still keep up. I look forward to seeing some of your new talents. The end”. Clay was huffing angrily, pissed that Nuada had managed to slip away...again.

Not that they were hunting him anymore. Frankly he was supposed to be in a secret location, not returning back to New York to poke at the BPRD agents.

“Alright Clay, give me a moment to get the agents out and then we’ll-”

“Is it code? Talents? What does he mean? I’m your friend John, you can tell me!” Clay chattered over him, voice blurring his out over the radio frequency. John ignored him and stood up, waving his hand to the room and every eye shot to him. “Alright, coast is clear. Everyone out and down to the van so we can regroup. Carl’s-” John stopped a male agent from racing past him, “-help me get him up”.

The room cleared faster than they’d entered it, John having to take most of the weight of the young agent who’d been shot. When they’d gotten back to the car, John was sweating from the exertion and the rookies were looking at him like he was the second coming of chuck Norris.

“Everyone in. Agent Clays designated driver will get you back to base. Have the medic look at his leg when he gets back and I want a full report on what went wrong in there on my desk by Wednesday” John finished, shutting the door on the wide eyed stares and stepping back to let the car drive off with his rookies.

He still had Clay to deal with, who conveniently waiting for him by his own car. He at least let John get in and start the engine before asking 101 questions.

John was not the best marksman, and he wasn’t the best fighter, but he was a great tactician. He knew how to deflect, how to anticipate, how to plan. Sidestepping some of clays more inquiring questions wasn’t too hard.

Unsatisfied with his lack of answers, Clay hoped out of his car when John finally pulled into the base’s car park. John was just grateful he didn’t slam the door too hard when he’d gotten out.

Letting the engine run, John lent back in his seat, relaxing for a few short seconds until he could faintly feel the pressure of eyes on him. Without turning, he said in a dull voice “are you getting in or what?”

No one answered. The car door opened with a snick and someone slid in.

John didn’t need to turn to see who it was, but he did anyway, ignoring the warm pleased sensation that filled his stomach when he saw Nuada sitting there. He looked much better than the last time he’d seen him. He looked healthier and happier. He looked....smug.

The bastard

“How did you know I was there?” Nuada inquired as he got himself buckled in and settled his hands across his stomach to rest.

“Well” John hummed, “its part of my new talents”.

This brought a wide and coy smile to Nuada's mouth, “Oh, then I can’t wait to find out”. There was definitely a dirty chuckle thrown in for his own amusement, so John just rolled his eyes at him and turned the car around to head back out.

The fact that he now had a gun strapped under the wheel meant he probably had a weapon closer to hand than anything Nuada had on him. From the pleased twist to Nuada's mouth, he knew it was there and appreciated that John had taken his own safety a bit more seriously.

He even reached across and squeezed one of John’s knees, pleased for the potential threat.

“I’m driving. Besides...I could still shoot you” John added, trying to stay focused on the traffic and not the hand.

“You have yet to catch me” Nuada retaliated; voice sounding so very fond of who he was speaking to that John glanced across to him. When he saw the look on Nuada's face, John let a weak but pleased smile slip past his defences and thought-

-Haven’t I?’-

The End