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Be Still, My Beating Heart

Summary:

It wasn’t that John was particularly surprised by the presence of the statue in the BPRD, only a bit perplexed at the location it had been placed. Every hall of the base seemed to be covered in priceless and ancient artifacts, the collection being added upon with every mission. Though in this case, John had expected some sort of... what was the word? Subtlety?...Precaution perhaps. But here it was, a mummified statue of the fallen Prince Nuada Silverlance of Bethmoora, just stood in the corner of the library.

or a fic where John comes back from Antarctica and spends quite a bit of time with the not-so-dead-statue of Nuada.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t that John was particularly surprised by the presence of the statue in the BPRD, only a bit perplexed at the location it had been placed. Every hall of the base seemed to be covered in priceless and ancient artifacts, the collection being added upon with every mission. Though in this case, John had expected some sort of... what was the word? Subtlety?...Precaution perhaps. But here it was, a mummified statue of the fallen Prince Nuada Silverlance of Bethmora, just stood in the corner of the library. It felt wrong in a way, knowing this was essentially the elf’s corpse, displayed like a trophy with no glass or protection whatsoever; it didn’t even have a plaque. Logically, John understood why it wouldn’t, Nuada did, in fact, try to commit genocide on the entire human race, but John thought that would warrant putting his statue into the vault archives, perhaps a tomb of some sort if the higher-ups felt especially generous. This just felt oddly cruel.
John shook the thought off and proceeded to retrieve the book he was looking for. He skimmed the titles row by row, ever aware of exactly how close he was getting to the prince's statue. Thankfully he found what he was looking for before got too close. The In’s and Out’s of Passageway Magic and the Effects of Teleportation of the Human Body, quite a lengthy name, but Abe said that reading it might help him crack a case he’s been working on; a rather a\elusive coven had been slipping in and out of homes undetected recently, leaving the residents dead and any residing children missing. John slid the tomb out from its place on the shelf and carried it over to the nearest table, for a moment he thought about sitting a bit farther away from the statue, but the library wasn’t too terribly large and the statue would still be within glancing eye shot. It would just be best to put it from his mind than avoiding it.
Cracking open the tomb, John began reading and before he knew it he was enraptured in its pages. It was odd really, he was rather studious in school and took his training pretty seriously at the academy, but even then the act of academic reading always left his eyes heavy, something about droning over blunt facts and explanations just did that to him. But it had never occurred to him to read works related to the occult, he had always assumed he’d learned everything he needed to learn from briefings beforehand. It was truly fascinating, he had never attempted to delve too deeply into the realm of the unknown, but now that he was, he almost wished that he had a notepad to jot down some notes. He had read through a rather sizable chunk of the book before he was interrupted.
“John? You’re here rather late.” John looked up to find Abe, standing in the doorway with a stack of books in his arms.
“Oh? I haven't been here that long.” he replied, shaking his arm out of his sleeve to reveal his watch. Lo and behold Abe was right, it was nearly one in the morning. John remembered coming in here around 10:30 after his shift, had it really been 3 hours? “Oh wow, it is! I can’t believe I lost track of time. I swear it feels like I’ve only been in here maybe an hour or so.” John began to stand as Abe fully entered the room to greet him.
“Time is funny with its inconsistency. I see you’ve taken up the book I recommended.” Abe came to rest his stack of books on the table next to John’s, looking down at the pages for a moment before returning his eyes to John. “Have you found it useful?”
“Yeah, actually.” John grabbed up the book, smiling at Abe in the process. “It’s kinda fascinating, I wasn’t expecting to enjoy it as much I do. I already have some theories on the coven case!” Abe's posture straightened up minutely with John’s claims.
“Why I’m glad you’re enjoying it so much.” He raised his hand to gesture at the surrounding shelves, flexing his fingers in the telltale way he did when he took in information. The movement drew John’s eye to the figure still looming in the room, Nuada. “If you would be interested I wouldn’t mind recommending you some more titles, perhaps I could even lend you some from my personal collection. It isn’t often that I am able to offer my literary expertise.” He finished with a flare of his hand. John understood the loneliness that Abe felt in regards to his intellect, scholarship wasn’t much of a concern within the BPRD, there wasn’t much room for it considering the constant threat of death. He also understood that he would probably never live up to Abe’s intellectual skill and often was wary about broaching academic subjects with him, but in this instance, John was happy to indulge him. Maybe this sudden interest in the occult was just a brief phase, but he found he didn't very much care.
“Yeah? I might take you up on that one, Abe.” He enthused, closing his book, being careful to save the page with his finger. His attention was caught once more, but this time he did not stay silent. “Why-” he gestured with his finger in the direction of Nuada. “Why did they have to- isn’t that a bit disrespectful?” Abe turned, looking on the statue of Nuada before turning to John.
“Why yes, it is a bit, unorthodox.”
“I mean, I understand that he tried to kill us and all but-”
“Indeed, I did suggest separating him from Nuala when they were transferred in, but I did not expect his placement to be so...public.” Abe took back up his stack of books and began to mill about the library, placing each book back with an eidetic precision. “You know how the BPRD can be, John-” he said, placing the final book of its self before glancing back. “Even with all of their well-meaning, they can still be rather...barbaric at times.”
“Yeah.” he sighed, he knew that all too well. Antarctica was somehow even more brutal than here, but it just seemed to be the symptom of his line of work. “I’m gonna head off to bed, Abe. Like you said it’s late.”
“Oh, of course. Don't let me keep you.” John waved a final goodnight before walking towards the exit, glancing back at the statue one more time before pulling open the door.
-
Normally when his shift ended John would just go back to his quarters for a shower, maybe file some paperwork before going to bed, but for some reason, his legs brought him to the library. He pushed the door open, book in hand, a makeshift bookmark tucked within its pages, he even remembered to bring along a notepad this time. But the thing was, he didn’t need to be here, he had his book, he could just read in his room. Maybe it was just the atmosphere of the library, John told himself, he’d be too tempted to go to sleep if he just went back to his room. He took a seat where he had the night prior, setting down his notepad and cracking open his book where he left off. He was about halfway through the chapter on the magical conductivity of various types of woods used to make doorways, apparently, most of the optimal wood breeds for enchantment have become rather obsolete in most modern mass-produced households, but more common breeds like pine and oak still held a rather good conductive value. Here was the issue with that, according to the book, synthetic materials tend to reject most portal related magic.
John was perplexed, to say the least. “So…” he spoke aloud to no one, and on instinct, he turned to the only face in the room, “What happens when pine is coated in synthetic material like paint or-or even sealant? Does that count?” He stared into cold, ivory eyes for just a moment before realizing exactly what he was doing. He groaned in frustration, leaning back in his chair to look up at the ceiling. What time was it anyway? He raised his wrist up to see his watch, 11:30. It wasn’t as late as yesterday, but perhaps he should pack it in anyway, he obviously wasn’t getting anywhere, and he was clearly tired if he was talking to statues. He stood and began gathering his things, tucking his bookmark into the pages before closing it, that’s when a realization suddenly came upon him as if out of nowhere. “Who said they were using doorways?” He shuffled through the pages once more before finding the chapter he was looking for, he began scanning the pages, scouring the words for just a bit of information that would confirm his theory. And right there, two pages in, paragraph 3, was exactly what he needed. John stood stock still, not sure what to do with himself at that moment, so much information had just been thrust upon him that it felt like he had whiplash. “Oh my god.”

Chapter 2

Summary:

John comes back from a mission a little worse for wear and he suddenly gets a spark of curiosity about the culture of our elven prince.

Notes:

I'M BACK!! sorry about the wait yall, there's been a bit of an Armageddon at my work lately. People have been leaving left and right cause the owner been a piece of shit and its left us with pretty much only 3 employees left. let's just say I'm several hours overtime and this is the first day I've had off is a long while. sorry about the slow build, but I've got a plan for this and I don't want to rush things. Thank you so much for the kudos and comments!!!

Chapter Text

It took nearly three weeks for John to make his way back to the library again and this time he was sporting a black eye, a broken leg, and too many bruises to count. A watch detail had been posted up in a house in the surrounding neighborhood where the rest of the murders were taking place. John knew he never would have thought of it on his own, but the book Abe lent him helped put some pieces together. There wasn't much of a connection when it came to doorway magic, the main lead in how the coven could slip in and out so easily, but a more obscure type of passageway magic involving fireplaces tied everything together. After having his epiphany all John had to do was narrow down all of the houses with a fireplace and then start a security lookout on each starting with the oldest (the older the brick, the better it is for passageways).
He didn't really expect for the first house they patrolled to be the one, but perhaps the coven was a bit more predictable than he had initially thought. Either way when midnight came around a pitch-black arm shoved its way down the chimney, along with a leg, another leg, a couple more arms, and few more undistinguishable limbs until the mass untangled itself to reveal the shape of three separate bodies. This, of course, happened too quick for an immediate reaction, at least according to the mission report, John hadn’t been in the room to witness it first hand. It was probably lucky for him that he wasn’t, three officers were killed before anyone could even draw their gun, and two more were downed even after that. Once he’d heard gunfire John immediately drew his gun, it didn’t do much admittedly, he’s not even sure where the bullets went as he fired them, just got swallowed up in the darkness, or at least that's how it seemed. The security detail was being flung around like ragdolls and in a last-ditch effort to do something--anything-- John picked up a broken chair leg and charged the nearest witch. It turns out witches, with all of their mystical power and might, are pretty shitty at hand-to-hand combat. He bashed one in the head on his first try and reeled back, a bit shocked at how easy it was as the first one tumbled to the ground, its shadowy aura dissipating to reveal a very normal looking woman. They are just humans, he reasoned, humans with control over the dark arts. The second one wasn't nearly as easy, almost as soon as he began to charge at it he was flung across the house, hitting a door frame until finally slamming into the kitchen stove. The rest was pretty hazy after that point, he does remember backup charging in, along with a whole lot more commotion before waking up in the BPRD infirmary the next day. John has commended for his detective work as well as his bravery, but John wasn’t really in the right state of mind to be appreciative, what with all the morphine he was on and all.
Now, John was finally off bed rest and for some reason spending the afternoon in the library with a book seemed incredibly appealing. He pushed his way through the library door as best as he could on his crutches and swung his way over to the nearest table. He had to use a backpack to carry his stuff with him and he carefully set down one of his crutches to pull the bag off of his shoulders. Settling into his seat John spared a glance at Nuada, its eyes seemed even more lifelike than before, but maybe that's just because he was avoiding his gaze last time. He held eye contact for a second more before turning back to his bag, pulling out his notepad and the latest book Abe had recommended Goblin and Troll Territories in North and South America. John’s extended stay in a hospital bed gave him quite a bit of time to do some reading and he’s now started to make his way through Abe’s personal collection. On the contrary to what he had previously thought, John’s interest in the occult had only grown since he first started. Now instead of passing out after a day of paperwork or filing case reports, he found that cracking open a new book is what relaxed him most. He started back on his book where he had left off, goblins and trolls apparently have a firm colonization in Northern America and have become a cornerstone in the American underground magic market. He’d heard that Hellboy and the rest of the team had found the New York Troll Market while he was away, they’d apparently tracked Nuada and his chaotic tooth fairies there and found some new conviction to locate the damn place. He wondered what it looked like. John didn’t really get to encounter many otherworldly creatures, not unless they were actively trying to kill him, and he surely wasn’t allowed to visit many otherworldly places. Maybe he could ask Abe, but he’s sure there isn’t much his friend could tell him that he couldn’t read himself.
John found his eyes wandering back to Nuada, he’d been to the Troll Market and god knows where else, he’s probably seen countless amounts of magical things. For a human, though, John’s job was about as close as a human could get to seeing what lies beyond the realms of men. What did Bethmora look like, he wondered. He would’ve liked to have seen it, but from what he could tell none of the elves lived there any longer. Doesn’t that have something to do with why Nuada tried to kill everybody?
“I guess if I lost my home I’d be a little pissed off too.” He spoke softly to no one, but John had been heard. Shutting his book, John began to stand from his seat, a degree of difficulty being added by the addition of his cast. He found he was no longer interested in the history of troll migration, but something else entirely. It took time to look through all the shelves, especially because he wasn’t sure what he was even looking for. And there it was, what John looking for The Majesty of the Elven Empire: A Comprehensive Archive of Elven Culture and Infrastructure. Geez, these authors really don't know a thing about being concise, do they? John lugged the hefty tomb off of its shelf, doing his best to tuck it under his arm while simultaneously balancing on his crutches.
His journey back to the table wasn't quite successful though and soon his book came tumbling to the ground with himself following in quick succession. He got his wits about him rather quickly, catching himself before he embarrassed himself too much. The book slid across the floor, continuing only until it was stopped by the base of Nuada’s statue. John wasn’t sure why the book stopping in front of the statue made his cheeks heat even more, or why he had any reason to be embarrassed at all, no one was here to see him of course. Instead, John steeled himself and hobbled over to the book, balancing precariously of his good leg to grab it up in his arm. All his struggle was starting to make him, in hindsight, incredibly appreciative of the usually normal functioning of all of his limbs. When he finally was able to stand back upright, he was nearly startled enough to fall right back down again, in all of his struggles he hadn’t noticed just how close he’d gotten to Nuada and the act of standing had brought them face-to-face.
“Uhh-” John backed away from the statue as best he could with his crutches, avoiding looking at the prince as his embarrassment was renewed. “Sorry.”
----
It didn’t take long to realize that the book that John had found was undoubtedly not written by an elf. The information was vague and spotty at its worst and oddly presumption and unsourced at its worst. It was clear that the author had some sort of bias when it came to the elven culture, whether it was negative or positive John couldn’t tell, but it was clear that they had no idea what they were talking about. Accounts of sacred buildings and long-held rituals were described with no real explanation to their purpose, only speculation or hypothesis, and to John, it was obvious that no actually solid research was done. He closed the book with a huff, oddly disgruntled at the ignorance of the author, and he suddenly had the urge to throw the book in an incinerator. He leaned back in his seat, rubbing his forehead in annoyance. Nuada would probably be appalled to read such a sloppy and obviously pettily-idealized record of his culture...or at least John thought he would. A yawn suddenly broke its way from him and he thought perhaps it would be best to pack it in for the night. Abe was supposedly doing research on Nuala at the moment, he’d have to ask him if he had any more reliable sources that John could take a look at.

Chapter 3

Summary:

John finally decides to give Abe a visit and ask him about Nuala.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

John gave a few quick raps on the doorframe of Abe’s research lab, he’d finally found a moment to spare him a visit. Things had been terribly hectic at the BPRD for the last few weeks, with several personnel going inexplicably missing in a short time frame. This was especially disconcerting given the fact that all BPRD agent identities where classified and each missing agent was on leave when they disappeared. Leads were pretty much null and it left the Bureau in a tailspin trying to piece anything together. There really wasn’t much John could do about the matter at the moment, he had nothing to work with, so that left him time to finally ask Abe about what he knew about elven culture.
When he was met with silence John pushed his way through the door, his foot clunking with every step in the walking boot his cast had been replaced with. ‘It’s better than crutches’, he remembered saying, but it sure wasn’t anymore graceful. Abe was transfixed on a book when he caught sight of him, a magnifying glass bigger than his head had been positioned above it. For good reason too, as John got closer he couldn’t recognize the writing on the page as writing at all. It looked more like pointillism, the page being completely saturated in black dots. Only with the magnifying glass did the marks distinguish themselves into something akin to letters. John had found his attention drawn curiously to the book as well and it wasn’t until he was gazing at it right over his friend's shoulder that he realized that he hadn’t said any greetings.
“What’re you working on?”
Abe startled out of his studying, snapping his goggled head around to look at John.
“John!” He exclaimed, suddenly relieved. “Forgive me, I didn’t hear you approach.”
“I knocked.” John laughed before gesturing to his boot. “And I can’t exactly be quiet.”
Abe shook his head in the way that he did when he was flustered, John was rather proud of how good he’d gotten at identifying what Abe was feeling, it’s not like his face was too expressive, even when it wasn’t covered by goggles.
“Yes, I suppose not. Just a bit predisposed...a bit of light reading.”
John looked back at the magnifying glass, the font was so small a single page could’ve easily held the content of a whole book, maybe two.
“Light…” He let his eyes explore the room, Abe had been spending quite a bit more time out of his tank than usual, and even more time out of his personal quarters. John hadn’t had the time to pay a visit to his new lab yet. It seemed like the usual setup for such a place, a bunch of equipment and machines that he couldn’t even begin to imagine what they did, tons of files and books whose contents probably required a ton of prerequisite knowledge to even vaguely understand. John remembers wanting to be a scientist as a kid, only for a brief while, he’s not sure if the job would’ve been everything he’d thought it’d be. And there, off on the far side of the room, he didn't dare look, lest he catches himself staring, but he knew that if he did, he’d see Nuala there. No one talked about it, even though Abe had claimed to be completely unperturbed by her mentioning, he’s even gone as far as to bring her up himself. John wasn’t there of course (it seemed like he was missing from a lot of integral moments in his friends’ lives) but Liz had told him, told him how Abe had held Nuala in his arms as she died, as her body became still and statuesque in his grip.
“You wanted something?” Abe inquired.
“Ah yes! Umm…” Now that John had the chance to ask he didn’t really know how to go about asking, and so he decided upon using a roundabout way of getting to the subject rather than the direct one, he did, of course, want to know how his friend was doing. In a panic, he brought up the last thing that had been on his mind. “I had heard you’d been doing some research on Nuala lately, how’s that been going?” Abe’s face, in its own unique way, seemed to light up. John let out a breath of relief at the reaction.
“Oh, it’s been quite interesting, John! Quite fascinating!” John smiled at that, happy to see his friend so excited. Loneliness was a common problem here, and he was glad to be able to give Abe someone to talk to, it also helped that he was genuinely interested in what his friend had to say. “Now, finding reliably sourced literature was a challenge, but once we received a contact within the Brooklyn Troll Market it became quite a simple task of persistence.” He gestured out towards his work table, strewn about in organized chaos we’re documents, some looked newly printed, other too old for John to place. A small glass case also sat near the center, a spherical shape made of inscribed rings of various sizes, John thought that if he were to touch it, it would most definitely rotate around some invisible axis. “So many things, John, so much rich history simply lost to time. It has been an absolutely captivating experience. Revolutionary works on economic policy and philosophical theory as of right now I’m deciphering this text from early antiquity that I believe may have medical studies that could prove relevant to modern spinal treatments.”
“That’s wonderful, Abe,” John replied, letting the sapien’s enthusiasm infect him. “I’m glad you’ve been able to make so much progress.”
“You know, as of recent I’ve been able to acquire a bit more material on the elven monarchy, specifically the Silverlance line.” John leaned in, keen to hear more, this week was exactly the subject he wanted to know about. “Years and years of peace and compromise. They hadn’t had a war- barely even a battle- since their truce with mankind. Balor was revered as a fair and just ruler, and his children...were beloved by his people.” He stared for a moment at his compilation of artifacts and texts, before his eyes began to wonder just a bit upward, towards the other side of the room. John knew what he was looking at.
“Did you know?” Abe started softly, suddenly distant. “That in their culture, this is not considered to be death, at least not when they’re preserved like this.” Abe stood from his seat, rounding the table slowly. John, now intrigued, followed him until they stood in front of her statue. Here, he took a moment to fully take her in for the first time. Her face was similar to Nuada’s, but a bit more feminine, he’d already known they were twins, but seeing the resemblance now really let the weight sink into him of just how tragic of an end they met. She lay, slightly reclined on a specially made support, in what must have been a specialty built pedestal to hold her. ‘Already so much more than what Nuada was afforded’ he found himself thinking.
“So?” He finally found himself asking, unable to hold in his curiosity any longer. “They’re still alive?” He felt his heart skipped a beat as he asked, he wasn’t sure why.
“Uhh.” He hesitated, wringing his hands ever so slightly, “No.” He said, a bit too matter of fact. “Nothing so literal. It’s meant more in a spiritual sense, that their souls will live on as a sort of guiding presence, watching us from beyond. It is actually not so dissimilar to the concept of the Ka statue in ancient Egyptian culture.” He rambled, flaring his hands for effect. He turned to John then, trying to gauge his reaction, but John was somewhere else, already deep in thought and completely oblivious to Abe’s overcompensation. Abe decided to continue. “Or perhaps it shares more similarities with the Butsudan of Japanese Buddhist beliefs, but in this case, it reaches a ways beyond paying respect to passed loved ones. They transcend, almost. Death used to be a rare occurrence to the elves. For those who did, deep respect and honor was awarded, a pioneer, even in death. Braving a world unknown, alone, and without certainty nor security. Offerings would be given to comfort them in their journey, and it was thought that divine favors would be afforded in return.”
John came back to himself, he was thinking hard about what Abe was telling him, letting his mind wander to a world he’d never get to see. Statues of elves, some young, some old, some having died in battle, some in tragic accidents, some whose cause of death might never be known. Placed in beautiful gazebos and lush gardens, visited regularly and dutifully maintained. John felt his heart ache in his chest, a sort of melancholy rested itself across his mood. What would’ve happened, he wondered, if Nuada and Nuala were allowed to be returned to their people? If they are somewhere beyond, what comfort would they get in this horribly unfamiliar place? He turned to Abe then.
“What kind of offerings?” Abe thought for a moment.
“I believe it would depend on the person. Normally things that the person enjoyed in life would be placed at their feet, or songs would be serenaded. If nothing else, flowers were also a common offering, simple and beautiful.” They both stood silently while John considered this, looking at his feet, he seemed a bit more serious now. The tone had definitely shifted, and Abe was wondering what train of thought his friend had gone down. He decided that now, though, wasn’t the time to ask. In truth, it didn't look as though John fully knew exactly what he himself was thinking either. John looked up at him then, a decision having been made.
“Do you have any books I can borrow about elves?”
Abe did, and he happily offered to lend them to John. Few words passed between them as Abe compiled an assortment of books to give to John, nothing besides the occasional synopsis of a book’s content or to emphasize a certain section worth reading. The air seemed razor-sharp, and Abe felt compelled to focus just as intently on the task at hand as John was. Soon enough, though, John was limping out of the lab with a pile of books in hand, refusing Abe’s offer of assistance. Abe relaxed as soon as the door closed. What had made his friend so tense, could it have been the way he had spoken about his research? He was that obvious, he couldn’t have been, could he? He could only hope that it would be resolved and that he hadn’t given himself away.

Notes:

I have no excuse, I've been away for too long. I ended up quitting my job cause my manger broking into my car and stole my stuff, I filed a police report but they couldn't take it any further cause they couldn't verify the serial numbers of the items that were stolen so...yeah. I'm back at college and I've finally moved into my dorm. I really appreciate the comments you guys are leaving, it's the one thing that really motivated me to come back, I sorta lost all my motivation for anything after the manager thing. It's been a tough month so thank you so much for that.