Disclaimer:
I don't own any of the characters in this story, and can't even attest to the accuracy of their portrayal, I just like to have fun with them! They all belong to Mike Mignola, the brilliant man he is!
The Begining
As consciousness slowly returned to him, he felt an immediate sense of dread. The only reason they let him regain consciousness was when they wanted to run more tests, which almost always entailed mass unpleasantness and/or boredom. And Drugs... he'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be fully aware of the world through an un-foggy mind not befuddled by drugs making him easier to control. Almost? Actually.. He had.
As he became more acutely aware of himself and his surroundings, a small water tank not even big enough to allow him space to stretch his arms out, he noticed differences in his very limited surroundings. Where were the scientists in their white lab coats carrying their needles and notepads? Why was it so dark? For a moment he thought maybe he'd gone blind, but he could see his hand in front of him, so that was ridiculous. He held up his hand to the glass of his confinement and used his mind to search for the reason he was awake. There he was, just out of sight, fiddling with equipment that he realized he had no idea how to operate. He sent his mind toward the unsuspecting man to try to determine who he was, friend or foe, and what his intentions were concerning him. He. Dr. Trevor Bruttenholm. Dr. Broom. Studies paranormal events and all things related.. Not a scientist? Interesting...
He let his hand float back to his side, feeling unexpectedly tired and stiff, and took another look around the too-familiar laboratory. Dr. Broom had worked out how to turn on the light inside his tank, which helped to aluminate the surrounding room, and it was then he noticed the derelict state of the place. A thick coating of dust covered everything, test tubes and beakers were lying around, broken or upturned as a sign of a hasty retreat in a panicked situation. He let his gaze take in the entire room before returning to Dr. Broom, who was finished fiddling with the controls on the wall, and was now studying him very intently, though with a friendly and open look upon his face. Dr. Broom looked like anything but one of the totally withdrawn business-like scientists usually swarming around his tank If anything, he looked like a librarian or a historian.
"Nothing, man, animal or otherwise should be kept in such small confines." He muttered to himself, "Now what are you, other then very interesting?"
He gestured to the label attached to his tank, the movement startled Dr. Broom, who apparently wasn't expecting to be understood.
"Ichthyo Sapien... sapien, are you sentient?" Dr. Broom muttered, half to himself, half to the being in the tank. "14 April 1885, that's the day Lincoln was shot, if I'm not mistaken, how curious. That, I expect is what resulted in your being called Abe. I was wondering about that."
The reality of the current situation had begun to sink in and he started feeling slightly panicked. His life in the laboratory was anything but enjoying or stimulating, but it was all he knew, and now everything seemed to have changed, over night it seemed! Where were the scientists with their closed minds, they were not good company, but he knew them, and knew what they wanted. He didn't know what to do or how to react to this man, this Dr. Broom who studied the paranormal, what did he want with him anyway?
Dr. Broom seemed to somehow pick up his anxiety, possibly due to his increased breathing rate, his pulling back to the back of the tank, which wasn't far away, or his sudden defensive poster. "Don't worry," he said softly, "I won't hurt you, Abe. Do you mind if I call you Abe?"
A name? What would a glorified lab-rat need a name for? Names were a sign of freedom, which he did not possess. He shook his head ever so slightly as an answer to the question, this man could call him whatever he wished, it really didn't make a difference to him. He was still stuck in his tank unable to stretch or move and subject to whatever his captors decided would make for an interesting study.
"Well Abe, how do you feel about being brought somewhere with a little more, shall we say, breathing space? When the Bureau got the call about 'a strange fish-creature' in a tank down in this recently discovered wing of the hospital, I looked into it right away, and here I am. I've set plans in motion for the building of a water tank at the B.P.R.D. which you may find more comfortable, if you would care to join us."
Leave? Leave this lab, this tank, the only place he ever knew? Abe, he tried out his new name, could leave and go somewhere else? He'd dreamed to himself of leaving this stuffy laboratory and the needles and the tests, being free to just... swim around without a care in the world. But always thought the possibility of that happening were as likely as the possibility of him waking up one morning in his tank and drowning.
"How rude of me," Dr. Broom said suddenly. "I haven't introduced myself. My name is"
"Dr. Trevor Bruttenholm, but you go by Dr. Broom, it's less of a mouthful. You specialize in the area of the paranormal, and enjoy English breakfast tea." Abe blinked in amusement at the startled look on Dr. Broom's face, though he wasn't entirely sure he understood everything Abe had said. Glass tended to muddle things slightly.
"I...You.." Dr. Broom stuttered, not at all sure what to say or how to react. "How did you know that?" He finally managed to blurt out feeling slightly aghast.
Abe just grinned and shrugged his shoulders, feeling more at ease now that he had put Dr. Broom off balance, instead of the other way around.
"What do you want from me?" Abe asked, feeling bolder and more confident though still slightly guardedly. "You will study, poke, prod and harass me like the rest of them? No doubt I will be better off here, apparently now alone, left to my own devices."
Dr. Broom grinned in spite of himself, "Up until 5 minutes ago 'your own devices' included you being held unaware and unconscious in some sort of suspended animation, alone, defenceless, and for God knows how long. I'm offering you a more interesting, and hopefully more pleasant alternative then what I can surmise you've been through already. You may turn down the offer, it is just that, an offer, though I hope you will at least consider it."
Now it was Abe's turn to be taken aback, both at the harshness of the reality check and the honesty behind the offer. He trusted this man, he couldn't help it, and he wanted more then anything to leave this God-forsaken lab, anything was better then here. Even a barren, waterless desert in the middle of a heat wave would be better then here.
Abe nodded his head, once slowly as the whole idea of freedom donned on him, then again more confidently as he thought of all the possibilities of even partial freedom, even stretching space. Abe felt something click right then, an overwhelming need to grasp at any possibility that could lead him to getting away from his current life situation, which it turns out wasn't all that current.
"What do I do?" Abe asked, feeling the sudden need to grasp this possibility right away, lest it fade away like so many of his dreams. The possibility of what could come to pass from this decision both frightened and invigorated Abe, making him feel slightly light headed, though that could also have been from the lack of oxygen in his tank. Either way, he was ready to embrace a whole range of possibilities, and couldn't wait to get started.
Well?
Please let me know what you think!