Hey Everybody,

Thank you so much for all the positive feedback, and the negative, it's all good! :D I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update this story, I hope it was worth the wait, and I hope that the wait won't be as long next time, but I make no promises! I will try though, I can promise you that. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing, and I would love to continue to hear what you think.

Thanks very much!

Jewelz

The light of the library had returned to the usual golden glow after Abe's tank had been cleaned, the tainted water stored in toxic waste barrels until the scientists could work out exactly what had been done to it. Dr. Broom sat at his desk next to the open fire, stewing over the letter that'd been found after the attack on Abe. It had been tossed negligently on the floor a few feet from the door, left to be found by whomever and delivered to Dr. Broom himself. That had been several hours before.

The chaos caused by the attempted kidnapping had finally subsided with Abe's vitals being stabilized and his breathing returning to normal, though he still didn't return to consciousness. The water in his lungs seemed to have left some kind of residue that prevented Abe's lungs from absorbing the oxygen from the water they drew in, and from drawing it in at all. They had managed to successfully create an antidote to that particular problem, resulting in the unconscious man coughing up some very unpleasant looking black substances, and his breathing returning to normal. There was evidence however, that suggested that something in the substance had entered Abe's blood stream and was now causing more trouble. Dr. Broom had every medical expert working on the problem, running scans and tests and experiments and whatever else that would yield some insight into what was happening inside Abe's body. Other then some second-degree burns on his torso and under his arm, there wasn't much other physical damage that they were aware of. His brain activity, however, seemed to indicate he was in a coma of some kind, though he was mildly responsive to pain and other stimuli. Everything else seemed to be returning to normal as well, but he still didn't wake up.

After Abe was safely in the hands of medical experts, Dr. Broom and Hellboy went back down to the scene of the crime, to help gather any information that could be helpful in solving this peculiar mystery. Samples of the contaminated water were taken to a lab to be tested, to gain some insight into what it'd done to Abe, the place was dusted for fingerprints, a sample of blood was taken from the doorframe, and any other evidence was gathered, including the letter.

Professor Broom,

It has come to my attention that you have something that belongs to me. I want it back. If you care at all about the well being of the Ichtyo Sapien, you will return it to me without any complication, lest something unfortunate should befall it. I will contact you anon with further instructions.

Your co-operation would be much appreciated by all parties involved.

The cold, completely impersonal tone of the letter sent chills down Dr. Broom's spine, the implications to the author's personality were chilling. Something that belongs to me? You will return it to me? Dr. Broom knew something of Abe's past, and most of it wasn't very pretty. Before his discovery by a couple of wayward plumbers, Abe had been subjected to every test and experiment imaginable, and many that weren't, after which he was abandoned and left for whatever fate, in a secret wing of a hospital. The idea of those cold, inhuman people having the now-liberated Abe back in their custody sent a wave of determination through the professor's body. He wouldn't let that happen, not on his life.

Dr. Broom sighed and stood, folding the letter into his pocket and tucking his chair into his desk. He was in a very tight spot, and he had a feeling that before things got better, they were going to get much worse. He moved down the hallway, headed for the infirmary to check on the condition of the fallen agent.

When he entered the medical wing he was immediately aware of the many rhythmic beepings, wheezings, clicks, and gurgles. He was a knowledgeable man by any standard, but medical science was one thing he was almost completely ignorant of, and for the most part more then happy to stay that way. He assumed from the calm disposition of the two attendants on duty that the beeping and other noises were not a bad thing, though they seemed disconcerting nonetheless.

Dr. Broom moved to stand before the round, column-like water tank and peered in at the unconscious fish-man slowly bobbing up and down with the filtration system. He had some kind of plastic-like bandage wrapped around his torso, protecting and helping his burns to heal. He was also hooked up to a multitude of meaningless wires, all running up to the top of the tank, and attaching to another multitude of equally meaningless machines. Dr. Broom sighed. He hated not understanding things.

As he was pondering his unconscious subject, a doctor walked into the room and made his rounds, looking to all the results and print outs from all the machines, the expression on his coldly professional face never changing.

"Any change?" The professor asked quietly, hoping for some good news.

The doctor looked startled, as if he'd been unaware of his presence. To Dr. Broom's surprise, the doctor smiled.

"Yes actually, professor," he answered, practically beaming, "Abraham's brain activity seems to be increasing slightly. This could be a sign of the coma lessening. If his condition continues to improve at this rate, I expect he'll return to consciousness within a day or two, if we're lucky."

"And if we're not?" Dr. Broom had long ago learned not to leave anything important to luck.

The doctor's smile faltered slightly as he answered, "If we're not, the increase in brain activity could have been a misreading on the part of the computer, or just an anomaly of some kind. Very little else has changed, so it is possible of course that he will remain in the coma. We can hope for the best though."

Dr. Broom nodded his thanks to the doctor, who turned away to continue his work. Hope for the best. He griped his rosary, wrapped around his wrist, firmly for reassurance. There were greater forces then luck, Dr. Broom knew, if only they would intervene, then perhaps this situation wouldn't end up as impossibly bad as it had potential to be.