Storming into his room, Hellboy barely restrained himself from breaking something with his fist, like maybe the wall. He prowled the room that was suddenly far too small and silently cursed Myers out for not being there the first time he really needed the kid. The whole vacation thing had been a disaster from the minute they’d boarded the cargo plane, to the final argument he and Liz had had before she’d left their cabana thing in a fury two days ago. She’d been so ticked that her hands had flared and it had taken her a few minutes to get herself under control.

And it was all Myers’ damn fault.

Hellboy growled and kicked his bed, the solid, massive thing actually lifting a foot into the air before crashing back down. The displaced cats hissed and growled their irritation at being moved and woken, but he ignored them.

Things had been going fine between him and Liz, great even, until that friggin’ nightmare curse on Myers. Ever since then, he’d found it harder and harder to let the kid out of his sight, afraid that someone was going to throw something even worse at him while off BPRD property.

“I am not in love with the kid,” Hellboy snarled to the empty room. “Not a chance! I like him, sure. And he needs someone to look out for him. Definitely can’t keep out of trouble without me. We’re pals. Buddies. That does not mean that I want to get into his damn pants!”

The vault door to his quarters creaked open, cutting off any further argument with himself. Manning entered, looking about as serious as he had the last time Myers had gotten in trouble.

“Ah crap,” Hellboy muttered. “What happened to him?”

Holding up both hands, Manning said, “Now, I don’t want you to overreact so just, don’t do that thing you do.”

“What thing is that?”

“Go on some kind of rampage and leave the facility.”

“I’m gonna go on a rampage if you don’t tell me what happened to Myers,” Hellboy growled.

“Okay. But it’s not that bad.”

“What isn’t that bad?”

“We can’t find him.”

Hellboy blinked at him for a few seconds, then repeated, “You can’t find him? What do you mean, you can’t find him?”

“About five days ago...”

“Five days ago?” Hellboy roared.

“Myers went to Central Park and disappeared. We found his locator and cell phone in use by a local gang, and they said they roughed him up and left him in the park...”

“Five days ago and you didn’t call me!?”

“But we weren’t able to locate him, despite a thorough search of the area and area hospitals,” Manning finished.

Hellboy grabbed Manning by the throat and shoved him against the wall, holding him off the floor by a few feet as he snarled, “Son of a bitch! This wasn’t something you wanted to tell me about five days ago?”

Manning clawed unsuccessfully at Hellboy’s stone hand as he struggled to breathe and get free.

“Red! Let him down,” Clay shouted, bursting into the room.

Snarling, Hellboy dropped him and stalked away, enjoying that Manning hit the floor with a solid thud and grunt of pain.

“We looked everywhere for him, Red, he just vanished,” Clay continued. “And you know as well as I do that if Myers doesn’t want to be found, we won’t find him. He was top of his class and knows exactly what to do.”

Jabbing a finger at Manning, who was picking himself up off the floor, Hellboy snapped, “He said a gang roughed Myers up.”

“Yeah, and we found the spot. There was a lot of blood there, but no body, so someone took him to a hospital. We searched all the hospitals for John Does and Myers and came up with bupkis,” Clay told him.

Arms folded over his chest, a little calmer, Hellboy guessed, “Which is why you think he took the opportunity to leave.”

“Let’s look at the past six months,” Manning interrupted, his voice a little rough. “Myers has witnessed the beginning of an apocalypse, been kidnapped and held captive three times, knocked out ten times that I know about, been in countless shoot-outs with two resulting in gunshot wounds, stabbed five times, blown up, cursed twice, and partially eaten by a Vorsach demon. Burnout really isn’t all that far-fetched an idea.”

Not wanting to believe it, even put as logically as that, Hellboy shook his head. “He wouldn’t just take off like that. He’d leave a note or something. He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“Because you’ve always been his staunchest supporter?” Manning questioned, dryly.

Growling again, Hellboy conceded, “To Abe and Liz, if not to me.”

Manning shrugged. “I would’ve preferred a letter of resignation, myself, but maybe he wasn’t thinking clearly at the time. Probably wasn’t. Still, it’s been five days, more than enough time to come to his senses and he hasn’t returned. I’d say he’s decided that he likes where he is now, better than where he was, here at the BPRD.”

“Tough,” Hellboy snapped. “Take me to where he was last seen. Now.”

“Hellboy...” Manning warning.

Looming over him, Hellboy said, “You take me to that spot, or I bust outta here on my own and find it. He ain’t leaving like this because I’m not gonna let him. End of the damn story.”

Manning sighed, but gave in with a nod.

*  *  *  *

As wonderful and comfortable as he’d become, accepted as a part of Catherine and Vincent’s family, John knew that his time there was almost up. Hellboy would be coming back soon, if he wasn’t already, and he didn’t want the demon anywhere near this place. Not because John didn’t think he could keep a secret, but because he wasn’t all that sure that Hellboy wouldn’t take Vincent as a threat.

“Why are you worried?” Vincent questioned, looking up from the book he was reading.

Shifting uncomfortably, John said, “I’m afraid that someone might be looking for me, or will be soon, and they’ll track me here.”

Vincent looked at him steadily. “Who?”

John hesitated and answered, “Someone I work with. No, he’s more than that, he’s a friend.”

“But?”

Wondering how Vincent always knew when he was hedging, John sighed, explaining, “I wanted him to be more than a friend, but he’s in love with someone else and even if he wasn’t, he’s not built the same way I am. It’s stupid, wanting someone you can’t have, but I can’t help myself.”

Vincent set aside the book and offered a brief smile. “For a long time, I thought that I could never be with Catherine in the way I wanted to be. We were too different, literally from different worlds. If not for her love and persistence, I would have sent her away. I did send her away, so many times.”

“But she loved you in return,” John pointed out. “He doesn’t love me.”

“Have you asked him?”

John snorted, picturing asking Hellboy if he loved him. “No. No, that’s definitely not a good idea. I can just see what a disaster that would be and...”

“Dad! Dad! Mouse says there’s someone trying to get down here and he’s this, this, big red thing with a tail!” Jacob shouted, bursting into the room.

Groaning, John started to get up and hissed in pain as the broken ribs scraped together. When Vincent pushed him back down, John shook his head and said, “That’s who I was talking about. He won’t let it go. He’ll be able to track me all the way down here and I don’t want that. You don’t want that, trust me. I don’t want to put you at risk, because he won’t be alone. He’ll have agents with him.”

Vincent’s gaze narrowed. “Agents?”

Unable to bear the suspicion, John explained, “I work for a division of the FBI, I’m a federal agent. I’m sorry, Vincent, I didn’t mean to deceive you.”

“You didn’t,” Vincent assured him quietly. “We don’t ask people what their pasts are when they come here for refuge. Do you want to go back with your friend?”

“I should, yes. He won’t stop looking for me and I don’t want to put any of you in danger.”

“I asked if you wanted to go back, not if you think you should.”

Startled by the distinction, John could only stare at the kindly expression on his new friend’s face. He was so different from Hellboy, so gentle and calm, that John sometimes forgot Vincent had a fierce protective streak of his family and friends. He’d seen it by accident when he’d heard a fight in the other room and lurched out of bed to try and help. Vincent had grabbed one of the combatants and easily hauled him off Mouse before carting the young man out bodily. Catherine had found him leaning on the doorframe and scolded him back into bed.

As much as he wanted to stay where he was, among his new friends, John knew that he couldn’t. He had a duty to uphold and that came before everything else. Later, if he decided in the hard light of day that he didn’t have anything further to offer the BPRD, John could return. Until then, he had no choice but to go back. Decision made, he smiled sadly at Vincent and said, “I have to go back, Vincent, but thank you. You don’t know how much it means to me, your offer.”

Vincent ghosted a hand over John’s head and helped him out of bed the most expedient way; by picking him up and cradling him in his arms. “It’s a long journey to the surface and you won’t be able to make it on your own.”

“Vincent,” John protested, feeling utterly absurd.

“Don’t try to argue, you won’t win,” Catherine informed him humorously, walking into the room with Hope. She met them halfway and kissed his cheek. “Take care of yourself, John, and if you need to get in touch with us, or find your way back, contact Joe Maxwell at the DA’s office.”

John nodded and said, “Thank you. For everything.”

It felt horribly inadequate, especially considering everything that they had done for him, but would have to do.

*  *  *  *

“I can smell him,” Hellboy repeated, ignoring Clay entirely. “He’s here, somewhere.”

Clay sighed. “I don’t know how you can smell anything over the sewer stench.”

“Because I can,” Hellboy growled, glaring at the seemingly unmovable wall in their way. He could hear an irritating tapping noise all around them when they’d first gotten there, but everything was dead silent now. It was like they knew he was there and were hoping very much that he’d just go away.

To hell with that! he thought angrily.

Just as he pulled his stone fist back to smash through the cement, it slid back and then aside, revealing a battered, but essentially whole, Myers. A faint smile surfaced on the agent’s face and he greeted weakly, “Hey, Hellboy. Clay. How’re you doing?”

“Ah, fine, John, yourself?” Clay asked, casting Hellboy a worried look.

Hellboy was still in shock at the bruised sight of his friend and the smell of internal injuries that were only just starting to heal. Without a word, he stalked forward and scooped John into his arms, ignoring the flinch the young man gave at the sudden movement. Explanations and/or apologies could wait. The first thing they needed to do was have John seen by a doctor.

“Ah, Red? You don’t have to carry me,” John protested.

Hellboy growled, but didn’t bother answering. Just as they were about to leave the tunnel, he glanced back to find a pair of eyes glowing in the near dark of wherever the hell it was that John had come from. The scent of ‘cat’ mixed with that of ‘man,’ but Hellboy didn’t have time to separate them.

Turning resolutely from the mystery, he headed for the trash truck.

*  *  *  *

Resting in a hospital bed in the infirmary had nothing on the lumpy mattress Below. John missed the steady tapping of the pipes, as well as the impromptu and frequent visits from his friends. Liz was still down in the Caribbean and Abe hadn’t returned from his trek, so it was only Hellboy, Manning, and Clay to visit him, and that was very infrequently. It was another week before he was discharged from the infirmary to his quarters there at the BPRD. He hobbled slowly to them, meeting up with Hellboy for the first time in two days.

The two of them stared at each other a long moment before Hellboy asked gruffly, “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine,” John lied, started to walk again. He saw Hellboy reach for him and held up a hand with a sharp, “Don’t even think about carrying me.”

Hellboy sighed. “Ah c’mon, squirt! How long are you going to stay pissed at me?”

Incredulous, John demanded, “How have I been pissed at you? You haven’t even been around for me to be angry! Although, really, I am angry about that.”

“You didn’t want me to go on that trip with Liz and snapped everyone’s head off the whole week before we were out the door,” Hellboy countered. “And then you pull that disappearing act, which you still won’t tell anyone about. I may not be psychic like Blue, but I can tell when someone’s ticked at me. Liz left for six whole months before you got her to come back, remember? I’ve got the experience.”

“Look, Red, it’s nothing to do with you, okay?” John finally said, hearing the honest frustration in his friend’s voice. “It’s all me. I just have some things to figure out.”

“Can’t you just tell me where you were those five days?” Hellboy questioned.

Shaking his head, John said, “I’m not even really sure. Some people fixed me up and took care of me, but I wouldn’t know how to get back there.”

“What if we took some guys and...”

“No!”

Surprised by John’s loud exclamation, Hellboy didn’t say anything.

Pressing a hand to his head, John asked, “Please, just leave them alone, okay? They were good to me and I don’t want them disturbed.”

“Yeah, sure kid,” Hellboy replied.

Since they were at his room, John said, “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? And HB?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not mad at you.”

Hellboy didn’t look all that convinced, but nodded and continued down the hall towards his own rooms. John sighed and tried not to notice that the tail was drooping in a way that indicated Hellboy was really upset about something.

*  *  *  *

It wasn’t like Hellboy went out of his way to piss off the people he cared about or considered friends, it generally just happened with no planning on his part whatsoever. This time, though, he knew that whatever was going on with John, it had to do with his disappearance and Hellboy was determined to figure out what the problem was. He couldn’t take the haunted look in the kid’s eyes and wanted to put the hurt on whoever had put it there.

So he broke out of the BPRD that night and took the train to Central Park, riding on top of the cars as they traveled from borough to borough. It took a while to get to the Park, but he got there around midnight and took an unused tunnel to the surface so he could find the exact spot where they’d found Myers. He was tempted to just bash the wall down, but took the time to search for the hidden latch that popped the door out.

Slipping inside, the first thing he noticed was that the tapping noise was going strong. It was a code of some sort, definitely based off the Morse Code originally, but now different enough because of the years gone by that Hellboy could only make out every fifth word or so. As he walked down the corridor, the tapping slowed and then stopped again, letting him know that they’d discovered him.

It was probably only about five minutes after that, that he got that weird smell again and he stopped in place, listening closely for whoever it was there with him. “You wanna come out where I can see you?”

To his surprise, a cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows only about five feet in front of him. He was big, tall and broad, though how much of that was due to the bulk of his clothes, Hellboy couldn’t be sure. Still, even if he was half was strong as he looked, it would be a contest if they started fighting.

A quiet voice asked, “How is John?”

“He’s fine,” Hellboy answered shortly, trying to see into the shadows of the hood. All he could see were those gleaming eyes, which he didn’t trust. “You want to tell me why he comes back all cut up inside? And I’m not talkin’ about the knife wound, either.”

“I think you should ask yourself that question,” the man replied.

Scowling, Hellboy demanded, “What are you talkin’ about?”

“John came to us like that, we did not make him so,” was the answer. “If you want to heal him, look closer to home.”

With that, the man withdrew into the shadows as silently as he’d come.

Getting angrier than when he’d started, feeling like he’d just been accused of something, Hellboy stalked forward only to meet with a solid wall. “What the...?”

Thumping his fist against it, Hellboy knew it would take a serious amount of energy to make a dent in what felt like a foot-thick wall of concrete. Grumbling to himself about mysterious jerks, he turned and headed back to the BPRD.

*  *  *  *

Myers kept to himself for the rest of the week until the rest of the group returned from their vacations. Liz had a tan and looked a lot more relaxed than when Hellboy had last seen her. Abe hadn’t found anything, but was still happy about his time off, practically glowing from the swim in his natural element. Hellboy listened to him natter on about it for almost the whole day before asking if he’d seen Myers.

“What did you do to him?” Abe countered after staring suspiciously at him a long moment.

Defensive, Hellboy exclaimed, “Nothing! I was just asking if you’d seen him!”

Pointing a webbed finger at him, Abe admonished, “You have a guilty aura, Red, what did you do?”

Hellboy glared at him. “I don’t know and he won’t tell me. Just said that he had some things to figure out. Think you can take a peek and let me know what’s going on?”

“Take a peek about what?” Liz asked, breezing into the conference room. “You better not be talking about me.”

Which meant she was still ticked, despite the tan. Figured. Hellboy shook his head and answered, “Myers. Something’s got him upset.”

The cool expression that surfaced at Myers’ name almost prompted him to groan. Definitely the wrong thing to say. He’d forgotten why she was mad at him in the first place.

“Well, if it’s for John’s own good, then by all means. Spy on him. I’m sure he’ll love that,” she observed, snide.

Hellboy opened his mouth to argue when Myers walked in. He closed his mouth so fast that he bit his tongue, and hissed at the stinging pain.

“Liz, Abe, you two look well rested,” John greeted warmly, smiling.

Liz’s expression instantly changed to worried and she hurried over to him, exclaiming, “And you look injured! What happened?”

“Bad mugging,” John explained, as he allowed her to guide him to a seat.

She took the chair beside him and asked, “Do you want something to drink? Can I get you anything?”

Feeling injured himself from the way they were both ignoring him, Hellboy sank deeper into his chair, glowering. When Abe joined the fray with his own brand of solicitousness, Hellboy’s teeth began to grind.

Manning finally arrived and barked, “Myers! What are you doing here? Back to your quarters until you’ve been medically cleared for duty.”

“I thought I could help from here, Sir,” Myers answered. “Believe me, I wasn’t planning on doing anything more strenuous than coordinating things.”

Despite the suspicious look he sent to Myers, Manning nodded and said, “All right then. We’ve got a Clathter next on the East Side and...”

Hellboy tuned out most of the briefing, having wiped out two previous nests about a decade ago. It wouldn’t be pretty, he’d be sure and wear old clothes, but it wasn’t all that dangerous, either. Instead of listening to Manning, he watched Myers and didn’t really like what he saw. There were dark circles under his eyes and it looked like he’d lost weight that really couldn’t afford to be lost. When Manning finally stopped talking and the group broke up, Hellboy called out, “Myers! Wait up.”

“What is it, Red?” John asked tiredly.

Hellboy felt like maybe he should have a hat in his hands, hating that the kid was still so on edge around him. “You want to hang out later?”

Myers looked at him blankly, then repeated, “You want to hang out?”

“Yeah. You know. I could get you coffee or something,” Hellboy offered awkwardly. “You like that stuff, right?”

For some reason, Myers seemed to find that funny and he chuckled, shaking his head as he said, “Sure, Red. That sounds good. You can bring me some coffee when you’re done wiping out the nest.”

Hellboy grinned and said, “That won’t take long. Messy when they go splat, but they’re not real bright.”

“Be careful anyhow,” John warned, still smiling.

It was like something was trying to make him eat his words because it was five hours later that Hellboy finally cut the head off the last Clathter demon. Groaning at the acid blood that was eating into his flesh hand, he looked around for some water to wash it clean and wound up being hosed off by Abe and a power hose. Wiping his face clear, he gazed sourly at the amphib and said, “Thanks, Blue.”

“Anytime, Red,” Abe replied innocently. It wasn’t until they were on the way back to the truck that he continued, “I looked into that matter you were wondering about.”

A few seconds went by before Hellboy realized Abe was talking about John and demanded eagerly, “Well? What’s wrong?”

“You’ll have to ask him about what’s going on.”

Gritting his teeth, Hellboy snapped, “I did that! He won’t tell me!”

Unapologetic, Abe informed him, “Then you’re just going to have to suffer, you big lug.”

Hellboy climbed into the trash truck, glaring at his best friend the whole time.

*  *  *  *

John hadn’t really expected Hellboy to show up with a big cup of coffee from his favorite shop, but he did. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected Hellboy to show up at all, so he was both pleasantly surprised and wary. There was something in the demon’s manner that said he was up to something, and in all likelihood, it wasn’t something that he would think was a good idea. Taking the coffee, he said, “Thanks, Red. How’d it go?”

Sitting carefully on John’s bed, Hellboy answered, “The little bastards have become acidic since the last time I dealt with them.”

“Manning said that in the briefing.”

“I wasn’t listening.”

John chuckled. “Well, maybe you will in the future, then. No permanent damage, I hope?”

“Nope. They don’t call me thick-skinned for nothin,’” Hellboy said, grinning. “So how’re you feeling, Squirt?”

“Better,” John replied, taking a sip of the coffee as he sat at his desk chair.

Hellboy stood abruptly. “What’m I doing? You should be stretched out, not sitting on that thing!”

But John waved him off and pointed out, “Not unless I want to be wearing the coffee, but thanks. So how come you came back early from your vacation, anyhow? I just found out that Manning didn’t call you to say that I hadn’t come back. Of course, I didn’t realize that he’d thought I would just leave like that.”

“Well, he don’t know you like we do,” Hellboy said firmly. “I knew that you’d never leave us flat like that.”

Something warmed inside John at the declaration and he couldn’t help but smile at the quasi-indignant expression on Hellboy’s face on his behalf. “So why did you?”

“Why did I what?”

“Come back.”

“Because this is where I live?”

John rolled his eyes. “Why did you come back early from vacation?”

“Oh, that. It’s crazy really, you’ll get a big laugh out of it,” Hellboy said, shaking his head.

Smiling, John said, “I could use a good laugh.”

Leaning against the wall, Hellboy told him, “Liz thinks that I’m in love with you. Stupid, huh? She’s convinced that for some reason, I want you and not her. Women. I just don’t know where they get these ideas.”

Stomach clenched like he’d been sucker punched, John wasn’t sure how he managed it, but he nodded and agreed, “Crazy, yeah. Ah, HB? You mind if I get some sleep? I’m not feeling good all of a sudden.”

Which was only the truth.

Instantly concerned, Hellboy pushed off the wall and said, “Sure, Squirt, no problem. You need some help?”

John held up a hand. “I’ll be fine, thanks. See you tomorrow.”

Hellboy nodded and headed for the door, saying, “Hope you feel better, Myers. It’s not the same without you in the field.”

Grateful that the door closed behind Hellboy right away, John staggered to the bed and sat down hard, feeling like he was going to throw up. This isn’t working. I can’t keep going like this. Maybe it’s time to take a break, a real one. Catherine and Vincent wouldn’t mind putting me up for another week or so.

It felt like he was betraying something, by even thinking of taking more time off, but he knew that he couldn’t do his job properly, as conflicted as he was. He would make a mistake and someone would get hurt, possibly worse. A medical leave of absence, that would take care of everything. It would keep his job open at the BPRD, but be longer than a regular vacation. He could have some real time to get his head on straight about Hellboy.

*  *  *  *

It was like the floor had dropped out from under him and Hellboy didn’t like that feeling at all. He glared at Manning and repeated, “Medical Leave of Absence? Why? He was fine just last night!”

“I didn’t ask,” Manning said. “It’s his right to take time off and, considering everything Myers has been through since joining the BPRD, I’m glad he took it instead of handing in his resignation. God knows who I’d find to replace him.”

Easily translated as, ‘God knows who else I could find to keep an eye on you.’

Growling, Hellboy snatched the letter from Manning’s hand and stormed out of the Director’s office. He didn’t stop until he reached his room and, once there, tore open the stupid thing.

Dear Hellboy,

I’m really sorry to take off like this, but I need some time to get my head together. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you, or Liz, or Abe, or even Manning, because I wasn’t at my best. The doctor said it would be another couple of weeks until I was fit for field duty anyhow, so I thought this would be a good time. I’ve gone to stay with some friends out of the city, so I’ll be well taken care of, no need to worry.

Try not to give Manning too much grief while I’m gone. Make sure that you apologize to Liz for not paying enough attention to her. I’m sure that’s the real reason that she was angry with you. She loves you, Red, just like you love her and that means you’ve got to see her side of it, at least now and again.

Don’t forget to keep your weapons stocked and cleaned, since I won’t be there to do it. And Abe needs to get his supply of rotten eggs replenished. I put in a req for it, but I’d be grateful if you could make sure he gets them.

And lastly, please take care of yourself.

Your friend,

John T. Myers.

Hellboy stared at the paper a lot longer than it took to read it, finally folding it and setting it carefully back into the letter. The kid really was gone. Bewildered, Hellboy sat on his bed and wondered what the hell was going on in his life that his best girl and his best friend had both suddenly gone crazy on him.

A few of the cats came over and rubbed against him, one of the smaller ones plopping herself down on his lap. He carefully scratched under her chin and sighed. It was going to be a really long damn month until Myers got back.