New Problems

Chapter Three: Resolved Issues and Plot Advancements

Shout-outs:
theshadowcat: I'm glad you're enjoying this! I hope you like this chapter as well!

epalladino: You're right. Two teenagers (caught me out, there, didn't you?) are more than any person should have to deal with. Let alone two teenagers so spectacularly untypical...

dragoneyes171986: You forgive me? Oh, good. I'd hate to lose one of my wonderful faithful reviewers! And I'm even happier that you like it! I still can't believe it... ::wanders off mumbling to self about people liking the story...::

And now it starts!:

An alien presence stumbled through the night, tearing through the silky darkness, the creak of its aged bones rubbing against each other sending vague echoes through the trees. The foreststrained around its invading presence, the pops and snaps of roots and limbsfalling intothe empty, silent void the night had become. The warmth was leeched from the moon and star light; branches shuddered as the invading miasma of the creatures' soul stumbled onwards, its footprints taking the nutrients and potential from the soil, leaving infertile, dry-cracked clay in its wake…

At the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense trouble was brewing. Cat was still in her room, refusing to come out or even get rid of the tree she had grown to cover her door; so far it had resisted any and all attempts to cut it, the tree healing itself around any axe used in attempts to fell it. Hellboy was off sulking; Liz was trying to avoid getting involved in the argument that had happened twenty-four or so hours previously, and Abe was simply not participating.

Professor Broom was in his study, thinking. He didn't know what to do with his two teenaged (and unfortunately strong-headed) charges. They would both butt heads again, he was positive, but he couldn't afford to have them fighting while they were on the job. What's more, he felt genuine care for both of them, especially for the demon he called his son. He wanted nothing more than for them to get along. Then he had an idea…

A little while later we find Hellboy and Cat arranged in his office, neither recognizing the others' presence, or even existence, and seated on opposite sides of the room.

"What do you mean, we need to spend so-called 'quality time' together?!" demanded Cat.

"Just what it sounds like, as I've explained several times prior to this," said Broom tiredly, absentmindedly rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"What a brilliant idea," drawled the plant-person, voice laden with sarcasm "Let's stick two potentially highly destructive individuals with no common interests who don't even get along together for several hours just for the fun of it!"

"I'm afraid you both have to do this. That's my final word."

"Do what? I like gardening, writing and tea. I doubt he" the word was spat out with utmost disgust "shares the same interests. Though I suppose we could always sit around and make" a grimace "pleasant conversation."

"Why don't you try gardening? There's an old plot out back that hasn't been used recently; it needs weeding and such but you're welcome to take over it. Hellboy could help you with that, right?" the old man said mildly.

"You're bribing me, aren't you? Just so you know, just because I accept the bribe doesn't mean I'm over the issue."

Professor Broom made a non-committal noise.

"You're still going to make me do this, aren't you? Damn."

Hellboy growled from his corner, his eyes glowing creepily in the shadowy dark. Him and Cat shared identical (well, other than the obvious unchangeable physical differences) glares in the others' directions. Professor Broom gave instructions to a shed where they could find gardening material and the at-odds pair left the room.

Yet another little while later we find Cat angrily stabbing at the ground with a weeding fork, prying up knots of weeds and angrily flinging the dismembered bits of plant onto a growing pile. On the opposite side of the garden Hellboy was doing relatively the same thing, though he wasn't using his full weight or force behind the pulling or prying.

"Hmmm…" hummed Cat, investigating a small plant she had found. "In-ter-esting… An old daylily hybrid… 'Three Bars' potentially…" then, louder, "Hey, Hellboy! Could you toss me that big plant with the strappy green leaves over to me? No, not that one, the one over… Yeah, that's it! Just pry it out with the weeding fork…"

Hellboy reluctantly threw over the big clump of dirt, green matter and roots to her, Cat catching it before laying it down on the soil. Reaching around behind her back she produced a hand trowel and starting poking around in the plants' root ball, apparently looking for something.

"Hmm… This one's a daylily too, a reallly old one. Needs dividing, but worth salvaging… To the kitchen!" And with that the girl dashed off. A few minutes later she was back, with butcher knife in tow. Flashing a bloodthirsty grin, she beckoned Hellboy over. "Here's how you divide a plant…"

Half of a very sweaty hour later the two people (beings?) were splattered in mud and bits of plant, looking down at approximately thirty-four new plantlets, all of good size.

"And that's how you divide a plant," said Cat decidedly.

"Hacking it into pieces can't be good for it, can it?" asked Liz, who had come over to watch.

"Surprisingly enough, yes. Daylilies get crowded, so to speak, over the years, and the only way to remedy the problem is too hack it into pieces. You can use hori-horis (1) instead of butcher knives, or scissors for more delicate plants, but in the end it's all the same."

"So, how do you react to being sliced into small bits?"

"That's different. I don't off-shoot." Said Cat in a mock-superior tone. "I'm closer to, say, a willow." After a few minutes she winced. "However, I don't think that my fingers will root if you chop them off and leave them in a bucket of water. Or that my sap will similarly root roses."

"That's not a pretty picture," said Liz cheerfully.

"Nope, it 'tisn't!" the younger girl said happily.

"What do you mean, sap?" said Hellboy, frowning slightly at her use of the term. The two were getting along better after mauling an elderly daylily.

"I am, technically speaking, bloodless. I've got sap instead, or at least most of the time. It's rather complex, I think; sometimes I bleed red, other times clear or milky." Said the girl.

A sudden shudder ripped through her body, throwing her to her knees. She blanched, simultaneously reverting to her demonic form, her breath coming hard and her heart pounding. As Liz rushed over, Hellboy standing nearby, shocked at her sudden fit, she slowly slid into darkness…

Slowly she regained consciousness to the worried expressions of Liz and Abe; Hellboy was hovering in the corner, looking simultaneously bored, unconcerned and slightly nervous, the at-odds expressions warring in his face. As her eyes slowly blinked open her watchers breathed sighs of relief.

"What happened?" asked Liz.

"Something… evil…" breathed the girl. "Felt it. Through the trees… It's like the wildfire, only worse…" her breathing was still ragged, her eyes wide with barely contained panic. As she regained lucidity and memory her breathing eased and she calmed.

"It was as if someone walked over my grave," she stated, using an old expression. "You know how I could feel the harpies through the wood in that house? It was like that, except I was getting emotion, a reaction to something. I didn't know trees could feel that…" she finished, ending with wonder touching her voice.

A doctor bustled over busily, as only a busy person can bustle. "All of you need to leave now," he stated, his haughty voice indicating his approval of Icthyio sapiens, demons, pyrokinetics and botanokinetics/ botanopaths (2). Liz and Able left, though Hellboy lingered for a while. The good doctor's bravery ended at six or seven foot people with a tail, horns and red skin, and he left, his very walk indicating huffiness.

"I'm… I'm glad you're okay." Hellboy said gruffly, before turning sharply and walking away.

(1) hori-hori: Japanese weeding knife. The single best gardening tool in existence. Like a really dull knife with a slightly trowel-like shape, sharp tip and one serrated edge.

(2)Really, REALLY made up words. Botanokinetic: one who can mold greenery to fit her will. Botanopath: one who can sense emotions/thoughts from live plants. You are free to flame me for mauling both English and Latin like this, though preferably not for anything else.

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