Part I: Bored to Death

Chapter: Sweet Darkness

A desperate, animal cry left Margot's lips, and echoed through the hallways of the old mansion.

She grabbed Myers' shoulders, and shook him almost violently, but he felt limp in her hands, there was no reaction.

He's dead. The thought filled her with fear and panic, unlike anything she'd ever experienced. He's dead, and it's my fault.

She didn't hear Marco's voice that called for medical aid through his link, nor did she hear Hellboy's voice on her own link, asking what the hell had happened as people had began exploding around him.

All there was, was Myers, dead in her arms, and Margot knew her own heart would never beat again, if she'd let this happen.

Her hands shaking, she pulled his head back, and pressed her lips on his, for cpr. She exhaled the air from her mouth to his (horrified by the fact, that she didn't feel his mind while touching), and then moved to compress his chest. With all her force she pushed, but she felt it did no good. There was not a spark of life in him, nothing she could grab onto.

"Help me!" she cried out, to Marco. "Help me to get this shit off him!"

She'd began to rip off Myers' blood soaked jacket, but it was clinging to him, and her hands were shaking. But just as Marco knelt back by her side, Margot exclaimed with frustration, and felt her anger stirring again - she let her powers rip off Myers' jacket, his shirt and his bulletproof vest, they disintegrated into shrapnels, and revealed his naked, bloodied chest to her view.

Without hesitation, she pressed her palms to his chest, and closed her eyes.

How long was it, that brain can survive without major damage, when heart is stopped? 2 minutes? Less? Margot began panicking. How long had it been since his last breath?

Concentrate! she told herself. It's just matter, nothing more. Your mind over matter, a piece of cake.

She looked deep inside of him, found his heart in her mind - dead still, without any movement.

Margot reached to it, surrounded it mentally with her hands, massaged it as firmly as she could.

Beat! Come on, beat. You can do it, heart. Don't do this to me, John! Come on, heart cells, I'm commanding you, beat, beat, come on damn it, start beating, move, beat-

And just then she felt it - his heart moved in her grasp.

First just one, faint beat - but then another one, and another. Myers gasped for air, and Margot opened her eyes.

"Christ!" cursed Marco. "What did you do?"

"Not enough." Margot breathed. "I'm going back in. You make sure he doesn't stop breathing again!"

And Marco did as he was told, pressing his lips on Myers's mouth exhaling some extra air into his lungs.

Margot's hands were back on Myers' chest, and she closed her eyes again. Sweat was dripping on her forehead, but she hardly noticed.

Follow the bullet holes, go deep. See what is broken, and fix it. Block the holes, make the blood clot. They're just cells, nothing more. This isn't John who's dying. This isn't real, this is just a game, just a thrill. I'm just moving some very small particles wiht my mind, nothing more.

Margot kept talking to herself through it all. Making herself believe she could do something she'd never done before - messing with real, living cells.

But the cells obeyed her command. They moved where she wished, they blocked the holes in his arteries, they clotted, forming plugs on the walls of the broken veins and epithelial tissues. And little by little she felt, how the bleeding - if didn't stop, at least diminished considerably.

But she wasn't done yet.

Thank God, for the bulletproof vest - she thought. It had managed to stop most of the bullets aimed for his core - the only ones that had gone through him, had hit him in the right shoulder and arm, lower abdomen and his left thigh. But the bullet that had entered near his collarbone, had taken a turn and shattered some of his ribs, and made all kinds of mess.

Margot didn't dare even to breath, as she plugged out pieces of bone from Myers' lungs. She felt his heartbeat racing, getting uneven, almost stopping - but she kept on.

Take the blood out of his lungs, remove the bone, the blood, all that mess. Fix it. Fix the holes. Where are you, platelets? Come and clot, fix those damn holes, make it airproof. Breath, John, breath. I'm taking care of it. You're not going to die, not on my watch, not in my hands. Breath. Breath. Breath.

She didn't know how long it took. Time had no longer any meaning for her.

She had always been here, always in this moment. Her hands on his skin, her mind inside of his body, her muscles aching, sweat running on her face and her neck, stained with blood that was dripping from her nose.

But finally, after an eternity, she could let go.

She felt how his heart beat, steady and strong. And he was breathing. Uneven and shallow, but nevertheless, Margot knew he wouldn't die.

She fell to the floor, suddenly limp and powerless.

Too much. I gave too much.

But the thought brought her no sorrow.

Let this be the one thing, the one good thing I've done in my life. Let John live.

Marco bent over her, grabbing her by the shoulders, shouting her name, but it felt like it was happening to someone else. His voice echoed from far, far away, and Margot felt floating. She felt light, like a bubble in the air, and she was flying.

She felt the darkness coming for her, her eyes closing. Sweet, sweet darkness, that would cradle her from this day to eternity.

She'd never be afraid again.