This One's For You

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: All characters are copyright Mike Mignola and Dark Horse Comics.

Summary: Movieverse. They were brothers in soul, having realized how tragic love could sometimes be. AbexNuala, JohannxUnnamed.

Author's Notes: Based on the Movie Universe. I don't often write movieverse or romance-centered fics, but it's been in my mind a while. Spoilers if you haven't seen Hellboy II. I apologize for any grammatical errors, English or German. Thank you to all who reviewed and/or put my previous story on their favorites list.

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He may have been an excellent marksman and perfectly capable of defending himself in any rumble, but Abe Sapien was more prominently known for his intellect. That's how he was known: the brains of the operation. The one with the book smarts, who knew complex words and mocked his friend for not understanding them. All in good humor, of course.

Yet, for all of his knowledge, the concept of love had been so foreign and convoluted to the amphibious man. A hundred romance novels wouldn't have prepared him for the feeling that swelled in his gut just by gazing at her. She had been beautiful, beyond his belief, and so unlike anything he'd set eyes upon; and he had seen much in his life as an agent for the B.P.R.D.

That night would be their last at the Bureau. All four agents had only returned to collect their mementos and valuables, anything they didn't want the higher-ups to retain after their having quit the organization. He hadn't noticed how little he owned until then. Never had the library been claimed as his; only the works he had purchased himself through mail order catalogues, and gifts from others. There was, of course, his music collection to track down in its entirety. The idea of waiting a while longer to pack didn't bother him, as the CD player filled the library with tune.

The genre was so far from his average scope that even he was surprised by how much he enjoyed listening to the songs. Now they played like a requiem to the story of his life.

Mumbling the words to Barry Manilow didn't make any of it better, and no amount of beer could possibly numb the gripping inside of him. Could it? Maybe his melancholy would interfere with the effects of the suds. For whatever reason, it wasn't serving to impede him the pain.

It wasn't right to take the book. Tennyson's poetry really was the property of the Bureau's, but how could he leave it behind? The blue cover, how appropriate to compliment the gold embroidery. By just touching it, he could feel her. He could hear her reciting its stanzas. If he could hold on to a part of her, she wouldn't ever actually disappear. It made sense. Perhaps not logically, but wasn't that his own flaw? Always wanting everything to have logical reason? Was that why he couldn't even form the words to describe for her how he had felt? He had been in love. Love wasn't logical. Love was irrational and pure.

Some lessons were more difficult to learn than others. Those came with the worst penalties.

"Is it common for this music to be playing as often as it has?"

Abe lifted his head from the cantos as the familiar sight of a canvas containment suit, topped with a clear helmet, walked into the room. Only slightly concerned that his music may have been too loud, he remarked with apology, "I didn't mean to wake you, Dr. Krauss."

"You did no such thing, Agent Sapien," stated Johann, in his heavy accent. He set down an old, leather trunk, undoubtedly filled with his own belongings. It hadn't occurred to ask where the newest member of the team was planning his departure. Would he return to Germany, perhaps? "I have been unable to sleep for the past many years. It's something I've become accustomed to, but you are awake at an unfortunate hour."

"Just re-collecting. I can sleep after I leave." That matter stilled weighed heavily on hand, but nevertheless was still pushed aside with the image of her filling his mind. Where did he belong? Did it really matter where he would go at that point? Surely he could continue with Hellboy and Liz for a while, at least until they tired of his company. No, they wouldn't turn him away, at least until the twins were born.

If she had lived, what would their children have looked like?

By the time he redirected his attention from the illusions of what ifs, Johann was beside him, staring over the books and CDs stacked on the stand. "You don't think they understand, do you, Abraham?" he asked, hand pressing against the cover of one novel. "Hellboy and Elisabeth, you think they don't understand what you're experiencing at the moment." It was odd to have another intuitive individual present, for Abe wasn't used to having someone around who could pick up on his thoughts. In his experience, it made conversations easier, if not a little pressing.

Abe Sapien tried to remember that jealousy would serve him nothing to gain.

"They almost lost," Abe corrected as he closed the cover on Tennyson's 'In Memoriam.' "Twice, actually."

"Ah." The German raised a finger in a matter-of-fact manner, his voice crisp with clear difference. "But almost is not the same as an actual understanding. It isn't something on which they will be able to relate to you." From the corners of his eyes, Abe spotted Johann's other hand tenderly clinging to the velvet pouch he had presented earlier. The reassurance of his relating rang in the amphibian's ears, how Dr. Krauss, too, had faced a loss back before the European liaison had sent him to the States; a loss just as devastating, if the spiritualist's limited remarks were of any indication. "It's not something that will go away, this suffering you feel now. They won't be able to comprehend it."

He hadn't meant to undermine Hellboy and Liz, or what they had experienced. "What happened to you, Johann, if you don't mind my inquiring?" Prying into the mind of another psychic for information not wishing to be shared was an offense Abe had learned to avoid. Johann showed him similar courtesy, daring not to bring up his final moments with the one he held dear.

This questioning affectively closed the conversation for a long moment, with only the song of Manilow filling in the silence. Perhaps he had been too audacious, his tongue too loose in assumption. Johann was a perceptive and insightful man, but still uncomfortable when social interactions involved talking about his own life. "That is a recollection for another time," Johann confidently said, holding onto the bag tighter than before. "But I will tell you that I do understand love, and how it feels to endure the loss of it. I am certain what you felt for the Princess was no less than what I shared with my own."

"No less, I'm sure, Dr. Krauss." How truer words couldn't be spoken. She had been everything to him, a very extension of his heart and core. Not just at the end, but from the very instant their hands had entwined. How he had wanted to spend an eternity just speaking to her, or even just being in her presence. How he had wanted to care for her every day, and every day they would have been together. They could have completed each other. Now, he missed her so much that it hurt just to think of what he wasn't going to experience. No eternity. No care. No completion.

The mist in Johann's helmet stirred, and both psychics sensed each other's sorrow as it became unmistakably clear that they could relate on a level more powerful than their fellow freaks. "I used to not believe in such a thing," Krauss admitted without motivation. "I considered it preposterous and illogical, the existence of love upon first sight. I knew I was certain of it, until I met her. She was…."

"Perfect?"

"Ja." His voice had divided from its strict conduct into observant undertones. "She understood the concept of it better than I. She could always choose the finest ways of expressing our adoration of one another, in a way that made sense to me. Mit der wahren Liebe ist's wie mit den Geistererscheinungen: alle Welt spricht darüber, aber wenige haben etwas davon gesehen." Language barriers were weak hurtles when they engrossed a deeper meaning, and it only took Johann a second to remember his company. "After everything that has followed my loss, from what I have caused, I have taken that and made it my own. Perhaps one day you might do the same, Agent Sapien, and in doing so find peace for you both."

His mind didn't know what to focus on as he shared Johann Krauss' company and conversed that last night in the library. Everyone knew Abe Sapien as the brains of the operation, a man collective and concise in his thoughts. Yet, logic wasn't important to him then. He and his friend talked of perfection and beauty, of tragedy and desolation. It was not a happy time, but a part of his intellect, and more significantly his passion, realized he had to acknowledge his anguish before it would be better.

As he decided to seize 'In Memoriam', Abe remembered his silent words with Princess Nuala, and the last time he saw her eyes and held her hand; the last reflection and expression that would remain to remember her by.

I hold it true, whate'er befall; / I feel it when I sorrow most; / 'Tis better to have loved and lost / Than never to have loved at all

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"With true love it's like seeing ghosts: everyone talks about it, but few have ever seen it." - Francois Duc de La Rochefoucauld

Lord Tennyson, 'In Memoriam' Canto 27.