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Heartstone ch3a [Jan. 18th, 2012|11:01 pm]
Hellboy Fans

hellishness

[jeza_red]
[Current Location |Ipswich]
[mood |awake]
[music |Jet Black Stare "Ready to Roll" ]

Author: jeza_red
Warnings: slash, swearing, death and ressurection, AU.
Pairing:Nuada/John Myers, mentioned Nuada/Nuala.
Fandom: Hellboy movieverse.
Rating: Pg-13
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and these settings. All the OC's are mine, but that's it pretty much.
Summary: Kowalski swears like a sailor, but that's his quirk>_>  Nuada finally draws his first breath.
Author's note: Damn you Lj and your word limits =__=





Two weeks after two house elves shard their secret with him, whining of the sirens and mad thumping on the door shocked John awake. He sat up straight, realised that he’s still sitting on a chair by the desk and clumsily pulled a piece of paper that got stuck to his right cheek while he was dozing. Then he almost blinded himself by trying to put on a pair of glasses.

Sadly, it was a common state of affairs since the ever-memorable Halloween. For over a month now John was spending more nights behind the desk than in his bed. He started to entertain the thought that angry ghosts and bloodthirsty monsters won’t be the cause of his death after all – the cause will be reports, contingency plans and analyses, format: A4; typeset: Arial; calibre: 12.

Somehow he’s managed to pull his shoes on and unlock the door... and barely had the time to blink when one meaty hand fisted in his sweater and pulled him outside. Major Kowalski didn’t waste time for pleasantries or for releasing his captive, he just started walking.

“Tom... Tom!” John struggled to keep up with the long stride of the major. “What’s going on?”

“Trouble, boss,” answered the man and his characteristic, hard accent added a harsh quality to the statement.

People in the Agency firmly believed that one day this exact voice will fall from the sky proclaiming The End of Times.

“What trouble? What’s happened?”

John had problems with concentrating with the wailing of the sirens echoing inside his skull. Why no one turned them off yet?

“You better see it for yourself,” Kowalski grunted out. “You won’t fucking believe it!”

“Won’t believe in what?”

“You’ll see.”

Nothing else, then, than just let himself be dragged and see these “troubles” with his own eyes.

The Mission Control Centre was in uproar when John and the major stepped into the room. Agents were running from desk to desk, IT personnel was shouting and cursing, and everyone were staring at the monitors as if their lives depended on it.

“Attention!” roared the major which almost caused couple of younger technicians to fall in dead faint. “At ease!”

John smiled a little at the reactions. This was one bulletproof way of making any commotion stop dead in its tracks – a six-foot-some visibly armed man yelling from the door. Many older agents were of the opinion that if Tom Kowalski wasn’t enjoying his military career so much, he’d be an accomplished bank robber.

Thanks to his intervention number of panicked people in the MCC fell down to zero and the technicians snapped out of the funk, making space by the main console for the newcomers.

“This is crazy,” agent Jordan whispered to John as he was getting into his chair. “This is absolutely impossible, man!”

Oh yeah, Sean Jordan worked with BPRD for almost two months now; two more should do the job of erasing the word “impossible” from his dictionary.

Although this time John could give him some slack.

Because right now he was looking at the screen showing him a nicely kept lawn in front of the base that was currently occupied by a... unicorn.

John pushed the glassed up his forehead and rubbed his aching eyes – it didn’t change anything, the unicorn was still there.

...a unicorn...

It wasn’t big, actually it was smaller than most of the ponies he’s ever seen. And it... sauntered along the lawn as if it owned it. Walked slowly to the left, scraped the ground with its’ front hoof, then went to the right, scraped the ground there. It looked as if it was looking for something.

“I told ya, you won’t believe it, boss,” major Kowalski sounded smug and damn him, but he was completely right. “This is fucking  impossible. The last time I’ve seen one of those was when my Ma read me fairy tales before sleep.”

John wouldn’t know, his mom used to read him Little Mechanic, hoping that one day her son will find a sensible job;  but he could understand the sentiment behind Kowalski’s statement. Everyone at the Agency knew that unicorns existed somewhere on the Other Side, but no one really thought about it and certainly no one expected to ever see one. In the oldest book in the library, painstakingly translated from Cymraeg by the late professor, there was a note about them. The book itself was a translation from the scrolls that were written before Christ even graced the Earth – and it stated that unicorns are so rare that they’re almost extinct. 

And it did nothing to explain a presence of one of them on their front lawn! Damn it, even infrared cameras agreed that, yep, this one is real!

For this John was not prepared. No plan whatsoever.

Only thing he knew was that...

“Stop the procedures!” he ordered the room at large. “Pull back security squads! Tell them not to even think of lifting their weapons!”

 He was aware that all the agents were looking at him as if he’s finally snapped until a strong, sure voice cut through the confusion like a blade.

“Everyone’s heard Myers, get on with it!”

John didn’t wait to see if the order was followed, he was already running down the corridor, trying to reach the elevators as fast as possible. Unarmed, dressed in an old sweater and a pair of even older trainers he was aware that he didn’t look like much compared to the trained soldiers, but he just had to get outside and stop them. He just had to.

He didn’t know how yet, and he didn’t have a clue how to deal with unicorns, but there was one thing John knew for sure. Only thing that was repeated in all the legends and stories about these creatures. A clear warning.

You didn’t hurt a unicorn, didn’t even try.

Unless you wanted to call a hundred years of misery on your country. And then die painfully.


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