A/N: This took way too long. Thanks for your patience. This chapter was extremely difficult write and I went through several incarnations before I finally felt that I had done both Hellboy and Torie justice, without compromising either one of their principles.
Torie knew she had hid in the bathroom long enough. For several long moments after she had crushed Hellboy's hopes, she had stood still in his arms, like a jackrabbit frozen in a hunter's sight, before breaking away and walking to the edge of the rooftop, not wanting to jump but not entirely sure that she wanted to live. She stood there as many lifetimes passed, feeling the heartbreak radiating of Hellboy's body in waves. When he finally retreated to the stairwell, his footsteps crunching in the snow, Torie collapsed in a heap, sobbing for an eternity. This was not how she meant for the weekend to go.
When she was able to pull herself together, the wetness of her tears began to freeze on her skin. Moving slowly, Torie shuffled down to her apartment, ready to curl up on the couch and try to figure out how to right her wrong. But she was flabbergasted when she opened the front door; Hellboy was looking inside the fridge, his tail cutting through the air in agitated arcs. Both stared at each other, time standing still as the tension became palpable, before Torie's nerve failed and she retreated to the only spot in the apartment that provided any privacy – the bathroom.
Without a wristwatch on to tell her what time it was, Torie had no idea how long she had been hiding, but she knew it was rapidly approaching the time to face the music. On the other side of the door sat – at least Torie hoped he still sat out there – the man that she loved. The man who was half-demon… with scarlet red skin, horn stubs that he filed short in an effort to better fit into the society he protected, a prehensile tail and an over-sized right hand made of… stone. A man who, for all intents and purposes, didn't look the least bit mainstream. A man whose true name happened to be Anung Un Rama, which also happened to mean the Beast of the Apocalypse.
But did any of that bother her? Not in the least.
Because she just broke his heart for the most selfish of reasons.
Torie looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy and red. Her nose was swollen. Her skin was blotchy. Bracing her hands on each side of the pedestal sink, Torie hung her head and sighed. The claustrophobic shower stall beckoned her to hide and seek comfort from the spray of water it could offer, but Torie knew that she was going to have to come to terms with what had been haunting her for the past several months.
That long after she had met her maker, Hellboy would still be spry and fit… and looking exactly the way he did now.
Balling her left hand into a fist, Torie beat a slow rhythm against the tile wall. Why did it bother her so much that they weren't going to be able to grow old together? Why couldn't she be happy that long after she was gone, Hellboy was going to be continuing his crusade to help rid the world of evil?
I mean, shit, he does more in a week than I've done my whole life in making the world a better place. Why should I begrudge anyone his abilities?
Sighing heavily, Torie knew she couldn't hide forever. It was time to face the music and explain her stance… and see if there was a way to put into words how she felt about the fact that Hellboy had not aged from the time he turned ten-years-old or so – without completely alienating him any more than she already did. Alienating him… now there's something amusing – since That it made her heart hurt that he would not age as Torie got older. It was all so Dorian Gray, except that it wasn't acts of sin causing a painting to age in Hellboy's place, it was acts of kindness.
Torie pulled a dirty t-shirt from the hamper, quickly donned the garment, then opened the bathroom door and quickly scanned the room. Hellboy sat slouched on the sofa, dejection coloring his features. A beer bottle was held loosely in his hand, resting on his knee, all but forgotten as he marinated in his thoughts. Several empties were lined up on the coffee table.
This is gonna suck.
Taking a deep breath, Torie stepped into the room, praying that she could keep her voice low and soothing, rather than high-pitched with all the emotion she felt. "Sam, I need to explain." She stood still, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.
Her submissive posture was unnecessary. Hellboy turned his head so that Torie couldn't see his face, but the back of his hand quickly swiping against his eyes wasn't lost on her. "Tor, you don't need to explain anything."
Swallowing back a sob that threatened to well up, Torie instead bit her lip and hung her head. Forcing herself to close the distance between them, Torie opted to not sit on the couch next to Hellboy, but instead kneeled down in front of him. The skin of his face was wet with tears. Torie's throat tightened until she thought she would choke. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… "Yeah. I do," Torie whispered, then cringed at her choice of words.
Hellboy's gaze suddenly bore right into her, causing Torie to physically recoil slightly. Flames of anger danced in his eyes, as his tail beat a staccato rhythm against the couch cushion. She could feel his irritation and embarrassment uncoil and fill the room, pressing down on her. Nearly knocked over backwards, Torie grabbed a hold of the coffee table to keep her balance. Stay the course.
Biting her lip again, Torie held his gaze before plunging into her explanation. "Listen, we both know I haven't been myself lately. In fact, that's kinda an understatement. I've… had a difficult time finding my way the last several months. Lots of emotions have re-surfaced that I never dealt with originally. I kinda feel like I'm a walking shadow of who I once was…" Her voice petered out as she swallowed back tears that burned the back of her eyes and throat.
Swallowing hard himself, Hellboy nodded his head, remaining silent as he waited for Torie to continue.
Torie pressed her lips together, struggling to articulate herself. She wet her lips and started to speak, only to become frustrated as the proper words failed to materialize. Hellboy's gaze was a tangible weight, so Torie closed her eyes and tilted her head back so that her face was towards the ceiling. Don't make this hard. Everything with him is supposed to be easy. She then whispered, "I'm kinda scared. I'm afraid that I'm going to lose myself if I don't change something."
Quiet for several long moments, absorbing what Torie said, Hellboy had to acknowledge what she said was true. "This might be the change you're looking for," he murmured, hating that his resolve to stay angry was crumbling. But when she looked so heart-wrenchingly sad, he would do or say whatever it took to make Torie happy. Even if it was at his own expense.
Smiling ruefully, Torie tentatively reached out and took the beer bottle out of Hellboy's hands as she stood up and crossed in front of him, sitting down on the sofa. She took a long swig before setting the suddenly empty bottle on the coffee table next to the others. She then cupped his hands in hers. "You are a part of my future. Don't think that I want us to break up, okay? But… what is it that you want? I mean, the big picture? When you grow up – what do you want to be, what do you want to do?" He didn't pull away, which made Torie's heart soar.
"To be with you." His voice was earnest, but Hellboy's face was impassive. Torie knew the tactic well; Hellboy was now in what Torie referred to as 'interrogation mode,' meaning his body language indicated nothing to the person – or entity – that he was grilling. Torie didn't like being on the receiving end of the look and knew that if the conversation didn't go his way, Hellboy's voice would soon lose all emotion. And she was not going to let that happen.
Torie sighed, wishing for another beer. "And I want to be with you. Truly, I do. But my dream seems to be… deferred lately. This totem just got everything all a-whack-a-doo." Pausing to collect her words, Torie decided that they both needed libation refills, so she got up and went to the fridge, grabbing two beers. Silently Torie handed one to Hellboy as she returned to the sofa and was pleased that he allowed a slight smile to curve his lips as he accepted the bottle.
"For the longest time," Torie continued after she resettled on the couch, "I had a dream of someday of creating a woman's retreat. You know, a place where abused women, of any nature, could recuperate… as well as be a place to host conferences and symposiums. I would live there, permanently, but its role would change as necessary. A place that would allow me to be mostly self-sustaining and retreat off the grid, but not entirely – I don't think I have in me to not hit the grocery store or butcher to pick up a steak here and there.
"I'm thinking a little cottage, maybe on a cliff overlooking the water… close enough to town that I can ride my bike to pick up groceries. Close enough to a major city that I can make travel arrangements comfortably. A passel of adopted children running pell-mell. Maybe own a few goats, for milking and keeping the grass in check.
"I also want to have a large building on the property away from the house that could hold a symposium or conference, as well as have sleeping quarters for participants, as well as those just needing refuge from the lives they are leaving behind.
"Now, I don't want you to think that I yearn for country living per se, but I certainly want to live a sustainable life, too. Right now, I don't do much for myself and being a government employee means that I'm not only limited by bureaucratic rules and regulations, but also there's forms and other paperwork that were never something I had to deal with in my life before. And the more I think about it, the more I want to separate my work life from my personal life."
Hellboy slumped back into the couch, a look of relief mixed with apprehension danced across his features. His fingers itched to flick and shut his Zippo, but he instead ran his fingers through his hair in a terrible attempt to hide his nerves. "You're… you're gonna resign?" Great, could you have sounded any more like a giddy schoolboy? Or any more upset?
Knowing that she had to be diplomatic, Torie smiled benignly and kept her voice light. "I'm thinking about it. I just want to go back to being me. And that means I can be better to you."
Hellboy was glad that they were finally talking about the elephant in the room, but he also felt like he was dancing to steps he never even heard of. Women were a completely foreign entity to him – and he knew his fair share of foreign entities – but Torie had made everything so easy. Up to this point. And while she was being more diplomatic than her usual shoot-from-the-lip self, Torie was still being frank and honest, if a little guarded. Hellboy's heart swelled, despite his attempts to squelch it. "Torie, you couldn't be any better to me if you tried. But… you have seemed rather… preoccupied the last few months."
A chuckle barked past Torie's lips, completely without mirth. "And for that, I'm so sorry. But yes, I could have been better to you. Thank you for not saying that, though." She set her beer bottle down on the coffee table, then ran her fingers through her hair, subconsciously mirroring Hellboy's earlier movements. Their talk was going better than she had imagined, but not as well as she had hoped. Not that she was feeling the least bit amorous at this point, but it would have been nice to have gotten to the make-up sex by now.
Taking a deep breath, Hellboy decided to scoop Torie up from sitting next to him and deposit her on his lap. If she stiffened in any way, or outright refused, he would get up and walk out. But to Hellboy's immense pleasure, Torie cuddled into his chest, her left hand – the hand that he just ached to slip the ring in his pocket on to – resting lightly over his heart. When her head rested on his shoulder, he rested his cheek against the crown of her head.
Hellboy closed his amber eyes and sighed deeply, enjoying the feeling of Torie's hand gently pressing against his body as his chest expanded, then settled back into place. "So after you get back into the right head space, then we can think about getting married?" He hated that his voice sounded wistful. But was glad that the emotion he felt tinged his words.
Turning on his lap so that she could better face Hellboy, Torie shook her head sadly. "Oh Sam… I…" Torie swallowed hard, then dropped her gaze down to her lap. "I can't marry you. I'm so sorry. Yeah, I'm not quite myself, but…" Torie pressed her lips together as she tried to find the right words. She then blurted out, "Because… someday you're going to come to your senses and realize that I'll be old. And wrinkly. While you… will still look like you."
Hellboy's stomach sank past his toes. He was not expecting this argument, but he could understand it. "But you'll still be beautiful, while I'll still have this ugly ol' mug," Hellboy muttered, knowing the futility of his argument. He would look the same 50 years from now – if the previous 50 years were any indication. He could see how it would be difficult to be with someone who never aged. It just didn't bother him that Torie would get older. In fact, he looked forward to seeing how she looked from one year to the next. But, doesn't look like that'll be an option…
"Stop that!" Torie said, sternly. It was everything she could do not to ball her hands into fists and tuck them against her sides. "If you don't know by now that I think you're brilliant, sexy and very attractive, then I think I found yet another reason not to marry you."
Her words stung, but he caught something that made him curious. "Yet another reason?" This time he was grateful that the hurt he felt tinged his words.
Sitting on his lap suddenly seemed like a precarious position to Torie, but she decided that hearing the truth was like ripping off a Band-Aid – get through it fast and it hurts less. "I don't believe in marriage." Taking a deep breath, Torie spoke from her gut of feelings she had long since harbored. "I never have. Considering everything I've seen in my life, from the time I was twelve or so, I made the choice to not put on – from my perspective – the shackles of marriage. You have to remember, first and foremost, I'm a women's rights advocate."
Hellboy's shoulders relaxed. Since it was no longer an attack on him personally, he could try to persuade Torie that she was wrong. Although in her line of work, he understood her reasons perfectly. So if he could find some sort of middleground, he would consider it a victory. "But your parents were married…" Even to his own ears, it sounded lame and whiny. Good job there. Way to convince her.
Tentatively, Torie reached out and caressed his whiskered cheek as she smiled ruefully. She knew he was grasping at straws and that Hellboy fully comprehended that there would be no changing her mind, but was going through the motions for the sake of not going down without a fight. "Yes. And there is no way that I could ever live up to the high bar that they set. However, that has nothing to do with my reasons. It worked for them, but it's not for me." Even Torie was surprised at her calm and resolve. Her voice was matter-of-fact rather than emotional.
Feeling backed into a corner, Hellboy realized that he was not going to be able to reason or use self-depreciating humor, so he went for the tactic he always hated – guilt. "You believed in marriage before me. I get it. You're trying to soften the blow." Why the fuck did you even go there, old man? You're just antagonizing her.
Torie rolled her eyes and had to fight the urge to slip off Hellboy's lap. His last comments were so infuriating that she actually had to count to five before responding. "And you are an idiot. This is so not about you. I mean, it is in regard to the fact that I was talking to my reflection back there in the bathroom about how I didn't think I could stand watching you looking the same while I would age. How, I would age… getting crow's feet around the eyes, wrinkles around the mouth, my hair streaked with grey… while you looked like… you! It's almost Dorian Grey-esque, except for the fact that it's your good deeds that keep you young. But… I'd rather that than lose you altogether. Which I don't want. However… it's the fact that to so many women, marriage equates to near-slavery. And until it's seen as an equal partnership EVERYWHERE, I just can't participate in the process."
Several long moments of silence passed as Hellboy closed his eyes and absorbed Torie's words. There was nothing to argue against. It was so unfair… and yet so like Torie, for which he couldn't fault her lines of reasoning. But sitting on his lap was the woman he wanted to grow old with, despite her concerns that he wouldn't age along with her. The woman he wanted to have children with, whether biological or not. The woman that let him be… Sam, rather than Hellboy. Son of a bitch!
His voice was quiet when he asked, "So… now what?'
"I… I want to offer you an alternative." Torie nearly crossed her fingers as she held her breath. Please, please, please, please…
Hellboy looked wary, but receptive. A compromise? He was curious… And hopeful. "Oh?"
Biting her bottom lip, Torie cocked her head to the side – very much like her dog, Lance – and looked hard at Hellboy. "Neither one of us has ever really spent a significant amount of time with the other person without outside influences. You and I have done a little traveling together. Spent the night at the other person's place. But we keep very separate lives. I think it's time we took it a step further."
Looking at her like she was crazy, Hellboy tried to digest what Torie was proposing. Of course you would have to pick that word, you idiot. "So you want us to move in together?"
"Sort of. I kind of want us to maybe take some time off and do some travelling. Neither one of is good at giving ourselves time to mentally recuperate before moving on to the next challenge. For a while now, I've wanted to go back to New Orleans and see my headstone, as well as visit my parents' graves. You know, get some closure on that whole mess. I'd also like to go to Scotland and see where you first met your father. I just think if we revisit who we once were so we can get a better idea of who the other person really is–."
Frustration been to color all other emotions and Hellboy snarled, "I already know who you are – the woman I want to marry!" Immediately, he regretted his words and broke eye contact with Torie. Dammit, dammit, dammit…
Refusing to meet his anger with more anger, Torie replied, sadly, "I want to be with you as long as you want to be with me. But I can't marry you." She stared at her fingers, wondering if she should take back what she just said last. No, to thine own self be true. Besides, he loves you for you. If you pretended to be anyone else, he would resent you more than he already does right now.
Hellboy rolled his head back so that it was resting on the back of the sofa. Gads, but he wanted another beer. And what he wouldn't give to rewind back to just over an hour ago, before he proposed. "I should never have listened to Liz…" he muttered under his breath, smacking himself on the forehead with his oversized right hand, the sound echoing in the small room.
Hearing Hellboy mumble some nearly incoherent words caused Torie umbrage. "What?" she snarled, her head whiplashing so that Torie could fix a glare at her boyfriend. Their private life was just that – private. Torie never once needled Liz about how painstakingly slow she was taking things with Abe. Nor did Torie ever ask Abe why he kept waiting – and waiting – for Liz to get her act together. What they did was their business. Just as what Torie and Hellboy did was their own.
Realizing that he actually articulated his thought instead of only thinking it, Hellboy tried to act confused. "What? Nothing." Crappity, crap, crap…
Arching a brow, Torie sighed and shook her head. She wasn't going to allow this to turn into a fight. Not after being able to keep it pretty amicable all this time. Keep your voice teasing. Yes, you're annoyed, but that's not going to get you answers. "Nothing, my ass. What did you say?" She tried to add a little levity by biting her bottom lip and arching the opposite brow, looking expectantly at Hellboy.
Hellboy wet his lips, dreaming of a beer and a long drag of a cigarette, while he tried to think of a way to backpedal out of the mess he had gotten himself into. But, knowing that the truth might set him free, he owned up and replied, "That I should never have listened to Liz."
That's what Torie thought Hellboy had said. Liz seemed pretty level-headed, so Torie was somewhat shocked. But she was no less annoyed with Liz. "And why not?" she asked carefully. The possibilities in regards to the answer were limitless – which completely frightened Torie.
Sighing heavily, Hellboy admitted, "She convinced me to propose." He felt so naked at that moment that if Torie wasn't on his lap, he'd cross his legs and fold his arms. But because she was perched on his knees, Hellboy instead jutted his chin a little and rested his right arm along the sofaback, trying to appear cool and collected. Despite the fact that his pounding heart was threatening to burst out of his chest. She's gonna laugh. She's gonna laugh. She's gonna laugh.
Instead of finding amusement in what Hellboy said, Torie broke eye contact and nodded thoughtfully. After a few moments she looked at him and quietly asked. "So what was gonna be the gameplan before she convinced you to propose?" There was a tone to her voice that made Hellboy wonder if she was just as scared as he was.
Which allowed him to say, without preamble, "I… I was going to give you a ring as a sign of my commitment to you. Nothing more. Nothing less. I love you and wanted you to know that I cannot ever imagine being with anybody but you." There. He had said it. Now all he had to do was wait for the laughter.
Which would not be forthcoming. Instead, Torie became very reserved and contemplative. Running her tongue inside her bottom lip, she looked out the window at the pink light of dawn. She then slowly slid off Hellboy's lap, tweaking his knee as she did so in the hopes that he would realize it wasn't his words driving her off but rather her thoughts, and slowly began to pace the small apartment. Hellboy cracked his knuckles nervously as Torie absently picked up a ponytail holder and pulled her hair back into a modified bun, then began to worry her bottom lip between her teeth as her pacing continued. He wasn't going to propose…
A ring. There was a ring somewhere. In the apartment? Now? But it wasn't originally meant to be an engagement ring. Was it? Commitment. So, if it wasn't going to be given to her through a proposal, then where did it come from… and why give a ring? Anything else could have signified commitment – hell, anything else would have been more representative of commitment than a ring. A joint bank account screamed commitment. A ring screamed… engagement.
Why a ring, if not to propose? "So… Liz convinced you to… upgrade?" Torie's voice was but a harsh whisper as she bit her bottom lip between her teeth and pulled her hair free of the ponytail holder.
Hellboy averted his gaze, suddenly finding a bit of lint on the couch fascinating. "You could say that." His cheeks were burning and the air suddenly became thin, making it difficult for him to catch his breath. His body was rigid with tension, making him feel like he was about to burst into a million pieces. This totally sucks. Neither of us wants to break up, so why are we still talking about this?
Taking a deep breath, Torie knew that she might not like the answer, but asked anyway, "And why weren't you going to propose originally?" She almost winced as she waited for the answer, but Torie managed to keep her face interested, but not anxious. Be cool. Be nonchalant. He's still here. Don't drive him out of the apartment – you might not get him back. Ever.
His tone was direct, but his gaze was evasive. "Because someday you're going to come to your senses and leave me." Hellboy felt like he was being interrogated, despite knowing that Torie was being gentle. He had just hoped that they would have come to some sort of resolution by now. When can we get to the make-up sex?
Wait, this is all too familiar. Torie stopped in front of her huge window, resting her hip on the waist-high window sill, and looked out towards the harbor. The sky was still dark gray from the storm, but glimmers of pink shimmered on the water's surface. Her heart ached because she wasn't sure if she could call Hellboy over to share the moment. So instead, she pivoted on her backside and pulled her gaze away from what was happening outside her apartment, and refocused on what was going on inside the apartment – pressing her lips together to choke back a sob. After a moment passed and Torie was able to regain her composure, she asked, "And did I not just say the same thing about you?" She wasn't sure if she wanted to rage, to cry, to laugh in disbelief, or to go to sleep… and pray that she woke up from this bad dream.
Shoulders rose and fell, reminding Torie of an earthquake pushing mountains upwards, then causing them to fall into the ocean. "Well, that's different." The pouting in Hellboy's voice made Torie catch a glimpse of what he must have been like as a child, and a pang of longing for a family tore right through her. Having to fight the urge to double over from the physical pain centering in her guy, she suddenly wondered what it would be like to carry his child. You might not want to get married, but you so want kids. With him.
But his pouting also made Torie's heart soar. They were rapidly approaching a middle ground. She fought a smile as she asked pointedly, "How?" This was not at all how she imagined Hellboy to respond, so Torie was immensely relieved. She had to admit to not having a preconceived notion of how he actually would respond, but this was not it. Torie actually had to fight the urge to laugh.
His silence filled the room. The tension Hellboy felt became a tangible presence in the apartment, making Torie's amusement short-lived. He stared at his hands, picking at his cuticles, unable to formulate an answer. Not expecting a retort, but rather for Torie to empathize, Hellboy felt foolish. His horn stubs crackled as his irritation started to escalate to anger. Would it be wrong to get us each another beer? We're so close to finding some sort of resolution, I can taste it. But I need to do something. And while beer would make me feel better, I don't think it will help bring about an answer.
Sighing heavily, Torie unpearched herself from the windowsill and crossed back across the room, settling herself next to Hellboy, one leg folded under the other. "Okay, Sam, another compromise. I was going to say this earlier, but we somehow got sidetracked… Let's have a commitment ceremony instead of a wedding ceremony."
Hellboy's nose wrinkled in confusion. What was his confounding girlfriend talking about now? Girlfriend. I like the sound of that. It means we're still together. But that still doesn't make me any less confused. "What's the difference?"
Throwing her head back so that the top of the couch cradled her neck, Torie resisted the urge to sound like a petulant teenager, whining and sighing a lot. Instead, just took a deep breath, closed her eyes and blurted out, "I don't know. I'm just thinking out loud. I want you to know that I am with you through thick and thin. I just… A ceremony that's… Just nothing legal. Nothing that involves government, you know, participation."
"Hey, what's so wrong with that?" Hellboy felt silly feeling so defensive.
Torie rolled her head so that she was looking directly at Hellboy, exasperation coloring her features. "Dude, you work for the government. You are 'The Man.' This shouldn't come as a surprise to you. Besides, not necessarily in this country, but the legalities in other countries are what I'm fighting against. I would certainly give you the pageantry if you would be fine without the paperwork."
His brow furrowed in thought. This what not what Hellboy originally had envisioned when he wanted to show his commitment to Torie, but her suggestion sparked an idea. "It sounds like you'd like a handfasting ritual."
Completely perplexed, Torie shook her head slightly and wrinkled her nose in confusion. "A what?" Not caring about the tension permeating her apartment, Torie scrambled back up onto Hellboy's lap. His suggestion meant that not only was her idea acceptable, but that he was willing to take it a step further.
Hellboy grinned at Torie, fighting the urge to pull her into a long, searing kiss. "A handfasting. Where your hand is bound to the other's in a ceremony with vows that can be for a lifetime or all eternity, for a year and a day… or for however long love shall last. It's a ritual that dates back many, many moons. It originated from the custom of shaking hands to seal the deal on a contract. It's where the phrase tying the knot came from.
With eyes as wide as saucers, Torie couldn't believe what she was hearing. She surged forward, kneeling, her hand resting on Hellboy's shoulder. "That sounds perfect!" Suddenly Torie sat back on her heels. "But… is that acceptable for you?"
The pure, unadulterated joy washed over Torie's features made Hellboy beam, his teeth blinding white in the hear dark room. "As long as I get the girl in the end, I don't care other than we're together. I love you."
Straddling Hellboy's lap, Torie wrapped her arms around his neck. "Oh, you'll get the girl alright… However you want, whenever you want. Starting right now." She then squealed against his lips when his arms wrapped around her waist and he stood. There was only one thing that Torie could have meant – they were getting to the make-up sex. And Hellboy meant to start their non-existent honeymoon immediately.