Late Night Ride
John Myers was about to call it quits that night at the BPRD. He stretched, massaged his neck, and checked his wristwatch, eight pm - time to clock out, not before giving Hellboy his supper that is. He sighed lightly and headed over to the cafeteria where the cart of chili and greasy hamburgers waited for him. He plodded along, grinding his teeth at how his secret idol despised him so. He had done nothing wrong, and yet - the guy hated him. Sure, he stared at his horns, sure he was fresh on the job - but completely capable. John knew he couldn't replace Red's father, Red himself knew that. If anything at all, why couldn't they just be friends? He watched his feet walk along the familiar corridors. It's because he couldn't understand HB's pain, he wasn't one of the gang - even if he was just some other human, so was Clay - and HB loved Clay. He sighed again as he entered the cafeteria.
"It's feeding time for the brute already? Eats and sleeps." said the chef, wheeling over that night's grub. John grimaced but said nothing. He grabbed the double layered cart and started wheeling it towards its destination. That guy was a total jerk; he wasn't like that, but he'd bet money HB was much kinder to that guy as opposed to him. As he waited for the bolted down door to open, John munched on his lower lip; he couldn't stand this, this horrible anticipation, this silent agony.
The door swung open and John let himself in. "Hey Hellboy, I brought your favorites tonight."
Hellboy was kicking back on his truck-bed, his cats were frolicking about, and his many TV sets were on - but remained unwatched. HB huffed, "HAH! You don't even know what my favorites are." He sneered as he flipped over a comic book page. Then to himself, "Thinks he knows me already."
John could very well hear that last comment, his shoulders sagged in response. He silently wheeled the cart over to the bed. John watched with meek eyes as Hellboy lifted himself up; his stone hand tossed the comic book aside as he closed in on his meal. He stared at the cart, his yellow eyes seemed captivated, "Greasy hamburgers, nice." He lifted one up and examined it with much interest. "Say Myers. . ."
John perked up at hearing his name, even if it was his last name, "Yes?"
"It's clock out time for ya huh?" He took a huge bite out of the burger, his big teeth chomped away.
"Yes, yes it is."
"Must be great," Hellboy said between chewing, "to be able to leave this place." John said nothing, he could hear the bitterness in his tone. "Well?" HB inquired, with a spoon diving into the chili.
"Not really, I have nothing to go home to."
HB momentarily stopped eating. It looked as if he didn't know how to take that. He sat back onto his bed, it squeaked under his weight, he sat - chewing again. John didn't know what to do, should he leave? stay? he was very confused and mostly - uncomfortable.
"Not much of a talker are ya?"
"Uh, well, um. . ."
"Take a seat - do some overtime."
John was flabbergasted, and with wide eyes his hands numbly reached for a spare chair. He sat, very stiff and in wonderment of what this new change of behavior might bring.
"No girlfriend? Pets?"
John grinned slightly, "No, not at the moment - I'm still settling in."
HB only seemed half interested, his tail swung to and fro as he ate away. "Have any hobbies?"
"Well, I like getting my hair cut."
HB looked up at him, "That's not a hobby." His tone was low - deep and rolling like always.
John laughed uneasily, "Right. Hmm, well I like working on my moped - riding it. I enjoy swimming. . . Comic books." He blushed.
"Working on your moped? Gee Myers, I didn't take you for the down and dirty type."
John bubbled at the thought of his moped, "Oh yeah - I love mechanics, I really love it, using my hands. I love getting grimy, I love getting washed up afterwards." His eyes were shiny with boyish glee.
Although still immersed with eating, HB seemed compelled, "It's hard to believe buddy, looking at you now."
"I can't stand wearing a tie, I guess, even though it suits me to some." He peaked up at HB but dropped his glance as soon as it was met, "What are your hobbies? What kind of things do you like?"
HB pondered for a moment, a spoon of chili in his hand, "Beating the crap out of monsters."
Simple enough, but he knew Red wasn't going to open up to him right away. And he knew better than to dive deeper. He nodded instead and watched HB eat, careful to avoid staring at his horns. The words escaped his lips before he could stop them, "Must be hard. . ."
"What?" Yellow eyes met his. "What was that?"
John's kneecaps shook, "Nothing, I just. . . nothing."
HB wasn't going to take that, "What is it?"
"I was just. . ." John knew this was going to ruin it, he knew Red would hate him now - for sure. "I just was thinking how hard it must be for you. . . to fit. . . to fit in."
HB's brow rose, "Must be hard? Are you kidding me? Must be hard?" He stood up and John jumped. But then - nothing, HB shook his head and sat back down, and John relaxed a little. Red continued eating, silent.
John, although relieved, felt horrible. He stood up, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. I just, I get a little ineffable when I see you, I don't know what to say."
"Inwhatable?"
"Ineffable, you know - speechless."
HB nodded, he grabbed a towel and cleaned his hands, "Yeah, I know the feeling, being ineffibatle."
"Ineffable. . ."
HB gave him a look and John froze. "What I'm saying is, you don't have to be - I don't hate you or nothin', I'm just a little frustrated. I haven't been out in a while. Being locked up messes with the mind." HB mused to himself; some cats edged over and he stroked them.
John had an idea - albeit a stupid one - but totally worth it. "Let's go out Red. Let's take a walk."
Hellboy looked up at John, "Really boy scout? You'd do that for me?" His voice went light, he smiled a big toothy one.
"Yeah. It's dark, most of the guys are gone, it should be easy."
Easy was not the word, sneaking an over six foot, red skinned, half-demon was definitely not an easy feat. The two managed though - out of a bathroom window on the upper level. They snuck over to John's parked moped; HB was wrapped tightly in his oversized coat, a well-placed fedora covered his head. John hopped on, then HB - his weight nearly sent John flying though, but his grip on the handlebars hindered that. "Maybe we should walk?" John whispered.
"How 'bout I drive?" HB whispered back.
"Do you even know how?"
HB shrugged, "How hard could it be?"
John gave in, and nestled himself behind Red. "Know how to turn it on?"
"Yeah, yeah." The small engine purred, and the two squealed off into the night.
Note:
Yay, a movieverse fic.
I have no idea where I'm going with this. Sorry if it sucks.
