Sorry it's been so long, guys...

note: Abe's Thoughts Are Typed Like This.

Rielle's are gramatically normal and uncapitalized.

Chapter Twelve

Rielle:

A warm and shining glow penetrated through the haze as I slowly opened my eyes. Everything smelled like wood-smoke, and I was warm. Where ever I was, I was not alone. Abraham, I think. I could not feel the familiar presence of Professor Broom nearby, so I assumed he was off somewhere attending to more important affairs, I don't blame him one bit for not wanting to see me, or even be in the same room with me. Something popped nearby and I involuntarily flinched, even though I knew it wasn't the gunshot I'd been half expecting since the Dunkin Donuts incident.

Suddenly a familiar bluish shape hovered just out of my vision, and I felt a soothing weight on my shoulder. This time I didn't flinch away from it, instead leaning into it. It went against everything in my head right now, the instinct to run, to fight… but like I said, the touch was comfortable, safe, not endangering. I let it be.

The fog cleared a little and I recognized Abe staring me directly in the eye, and if I assumed right, which, in my drugged and dizzy condition wasn't likely, he seemed to project concern though his mysterious eyes.

"Welcome back." He said delicately, the hint of an accent showing through more in his softness. Christ, how long have I been out? I thought, trying to lift my other, uninjured hand to wipe the sleep out of my eyes. He was still in his 'street clothes', full with thin breathing tank, and his goggles rested on his forehead.

"About an hour, which isn't bad considering…" he left off, knowing what was going through my head. I attempted to move my hand, just to see if there was any strength, but a searing pain stopped me as soon as I flexed… four of my fingers decided moving wasn't a smart idea. I felt a little nauseous and groaned in protest.

"It's just the shock. Your fingers are crushed and I think you have a cracked rib or two. Not to mention you're still bleeding in a few places."

"Don't forget my foot." I mumbled. It didn't hurt but I didn't want to forget it. It was my foot. I loved my foot.

"Pardon?"

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against… a chair. A soft nice smelling chair. Smelled like home. Waitaminute. Broom's office? Oh fuck, I'm going to bleed all over his furniture!

Abe laughed quietly, "I had the forethought to put a towel down before you sat here."

Glad someone's thinking straight. I found it was a lot easier to think than speak, so I let Abe in a little more. He tipped his head to the side a little, and reached a hand out, gently removing a clump of hair that was plastered to my cheek with blood. My eyes popped open again at the sensation, such a gentle gesture almost bringing me to tears. Fucking drugs.

Abe nodded in understanding. "You're welcome" He gave a short smile again and disappeared from view.

I only noticed how peaceful it was in here now that I had that little 'session' for comparison… how could I have forgotten how uncomfortable and sterile a room like that could be? I'd been in enough of them in my time. This place was soft, warm, brown and red and black, and smelled like wood and paper and calmness.

The only thing that didn't radiate calm in this room was Abe, who was moving around behind me, pacing. His footsteps on the soft carpet reminded me of a heartbeat. I could still feel him inside my head, a remnant of what happened in the 'torture chamber' as he put it… I could hear him rambling about the medical supplies being useless and why the hell didn't he have a decent splint and some thick bandages, and I told him to calm down but it just seemed to piss him off some more. He continued pacing in my head and on the carpet while I sat curled in the big chair trying not to play with the bloody mess that used to be my hand.

Go ahead, torture yourself. As if you haven't had enough of that for one lifetime already, huh? Not like I could really call that last session there 'torture'. It didn't last long at all, didn't hurt as badly as that other time years ago…

Abe was suddenly knelt in front of me and staring me in the eyes, concern written all over his face. "What was that?"

Quit… reading… me…" I took a playful half-assed swipe at his head but he ducked it easily.

"Well, at least you're in a rational mood. How are you feeling?"

I didn't have the breathe to verbalize it so I opened my mind and showed him images instead with a screaming how the hell do you think I feel to top it all off. Unfortunately, I started thinking about the other time. Those wires and knives and that big fucker with the machete…

"Machete?"

I shook my head. No way. "Don't ask." The head movement didn't help get rid of my light-headedness any. Yah, you're a genius…

I heard a door close and assumed Abe left the room. Shit. I kept focussed on the firelight instead of his thoughts. The strange images that the fire projected on the books and over Abe's tank were sort of pretty, but when the fire popped again I jumped in my chair, hearing gunfire once again, and my instinct to duck and find cover overtook me. I blinked a few times to clear my head but it didn't work, this time when I opened my eyes I saw a flash of silver and the old scar on my belly flared heat and a twinge of pain. No no, not again.

I got out of my chair so I could run and hide somewhere, but I immediately hit the soft carpet, legs too weak to hold me upright. So I stayed on my elbows and knees, trying like mad to banish those images. I thought instead of the Big Bastard, Lavinia dancing to Achy Breaky Heart when she was drunk, and Hellboy drinking on the roof with me… what, a few hours ago? Big fat harvest moon, sky lit with tiny blinking stars, warm leather surrounded by kitten-scent and smoke…My mind cleared a little with these images and my breathing slowed. I kept my eyes closed and pondered my next move, but the pain killers Abe must have injected earlier dulled my impulses. I gave up after considering a bash and run tactic on the heroic fish man who quite possibly saved my life. What an ungrateful move that would that be, huh?

I felt myself drift off into a deep sleep, but my last thought before dropping off was: One more scare and I might just explode.

Abe:

I left her only for a moment to find a box with the splints and bandages, and to possibly locate the Professor and Hellboy. If I had any brains at all I would have taken her to Med Lab instead of the office, one part of me chided, while the other argued that after all she's been through tonight, and that putting her in a room of warmth and comfort was healthier for her mind than the sterile box the Med Lab was.I didn't know who to believe, my rational self or my instinctual self. In this case instinct won out, but ration told me I was a moron. Well, if instinct could get Hellboy past all the weird things he's been through, it could work for me too, damn it.

Once I got Rielle away from that room I honestly didn't know what to do with her. Broom was nowhere to be seen, and Hellboy was likely back to sulking in his room. She was groaning and bleeding in my arms, and so in need of something soft, so I took her to the first safe place I could think of that wasn't brightly lit and sanitized.

She was not in the best physical state I admit, but I worried most about her mental condition. She seemed fine at first, a little shaken and groggy, but as time progressed and the painkillers I injected took effect, every quick reading I took from her showed steadily increasing erraticism and flashbacks. When she finally had that image of that man with the machete I got frantic. Against my better judgement I left the office to seek help. But the further I got from the office the more likely she'd get completely lost. It was like my mind was an anchor for hers, albeit temporarily while the drugs worked their way out of her system. The only thing right now between her sanity and total chaos was surprisingly, me.

Then again I may have over thought the whole thing. I had the tendency to do that when I was stressed.

Another thing I seemed to do a lot when lost in thought was bump into things. I did that after turning a particularly sharp corner, slamming right into the Professor. I caught his arm before he could fall, but he dropped his cell phone and bellowed a little. He looked angry, but I could not tell if it was directed at me, or whomever he was speaking to on the phone. From the look on his face I prayed it wasn't me.

He noted my presence as he picked the phone back up and gave it a distasteful shake. "Hello? Yes, good, you're still there… no, I just dropped the blasted thing. Sedated, you say?"

I opened my mouth to get his attention, but he silenced me with a look from under his bushy eyebrows. His face reddened suddenly, and he yelled into the receiver, "You can tell Tanner, when he's out of the Med Lab, that I really don't care what his orders are!" He gave the phone a glare before slamming it shut, muttering "Idiot."

"Who's an idiot, Dr. Addams?" I asked. The Professor shook his head, distracted. I went on anyway. "I need you back in the…"

The Professor interrupted me, hearing the phone ring in his hand. He opened it, and seeing the number on the display, threw the gadget nonchalantly over his shoulder. I think I saw the slightest twitch in his mouth, almost a smile, as he heard the phone smash into pieces of plastic and circuits on the hard floor. I couldn't help but smile with him. It felt good to smash things once in a while, a lesson I learned from Hellboy after one particularly boring mission.

"Now, what were you saying?" He gave me his full attention, laying a fatherly hand on my shoulder. I found it sweet that even though he was much shorter than me, he still took the effort to reach up to make the gesture.

"I took Miss Cyr to your office. I think she needs more medical attention right now that I can give her."

The Professor shook his head positively, "Yes, good. Tanner and Ackland are in Med Lab, and it would likely have caused a scene if you had taken Miss Cyr there. Good thinking." There is no way I am going to tell him I never even thought of that. "Let's go. Oh! Do we need anything? Supplies?"

If it weren't for him, I would have completely forgotten. "Yes, yes… we need splints, medication, a few bandages… maybe a sponge and some water to get some of the blood…" I stopped when his eyes lost their focus. I regretted going into that much detail; he really didn't need to know that much. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "No, thank you for telling me. How bad is it?"

Better to tell him now than let it surprise him when we get there. "Bad." I told him what Rielle's injuries were, a little bit of what happened in the Torture Chamber, and a little of what happened to Ackland.

The Professor gasped. "That man is a lunatic."

I smiled. "He is now…"

The Professor apparently didn't like the sadism in my voice. "Never mind that for now," He said curtly, moving off towards his office with more speed than I'd seen in weeks, "Lets get Miss Cyr some bandages. I'll worry about those two later."

Rielle:

Sand blasted my thighs and arms, the sun burned my eyes, drying my tears before they could even wash down my cheeks. The enemy had me surrounded, on foot and hanging out the windows of army jeeps. The torn bodies of my companions laid in pieces at my feet. I could no longer stand, could no longer keep the death grip on my rifle. I fell to my knees and dropped my weapon in the sand. I turned my head and I watched the life of my closest friend leak out into the ground, immediately consumed by the heated grains…

"Ellie?" A hand fell onto my shoulder. I started, tipping over from my kneeled position on the earth. I reached out for the closest weapon but there wasn't anything within reach, just the fire-poker. The bright rays of the sun reflected off of somebody's glasses and obscured my vision. Where'd my gun go?

Wait, fire-poker?

My eyes snapped open only to see a pile of fuzzy curly hair and a tweed suit. I didn't mean to scream and I felt bad for making the Professor jump, but I couldn't help it! A pair of thin yet strong arms encircled me from behind, and I knew who it was. It was an embrace of consolation, not restraint, but it just made me cry harder. I knew I had to calm down but I couldn't! There is no sand, there are no bodies, you're in Broom's office, and you're safe for now.

"My dear girl, what did they do to you?" Broom knelt down in front of me, and I felt worse because I heard his knees crack in the process. I started blubbering apologies and tried to break loose from Abe but he just clung a little tighter, pulling me tight back against him, so instead I curled myself and kept my head down.

"We need to get her bandaged and cleaned up before Hellboy and Lavinia get here."

I panicked. No I can't have them see me all fucked up like this last thing Lavinia needs to see she'll freak out and Hellboy who knows what the fuck he's going to do to me I gotta get the fuck out of here. Abe must have heard that, and he resisted my wriggling fairly well but I don't think he knew what to do with me. It only took a light elbow in his gut for him to loosen his grip. I slipped out and pushed past the Professor running for the door; just glancing back to be sure I didn't hurt either of them in my rush to get away.

My knees almost gave out on me as I reached the doors but I couldn't let myself fall. What energy I had left was directed on getting me out of this room and away from the two men already giving chase. "Rielle, where are you going?" Broom yelled and Abe was already halfway across the room. I wasn't quite sure where I was. I flashed back and forth between harsh desert and soft carpet. The voices of Broom and Abe intermingled with the foreign languages of the soldiers. It only happened for a moment but then I was back to reality, faced with the large oaken doors of the office.

I pulled the right door open with my uninjured hand and ran out into the hallway, which was luckily clear of people. It was a straight sprint, only two corners, about fifty feet to the elevator, and if the hall remained empty it would take about 15 seconds to get there. Before I could even start running through I slipped on the smooth laminate flooring and narrowly avoided getting tackled by Abe.

In my head I knew I was acting moronic, erratic, likely insane, but it didn't matter. I just wanted OUT, right NOW. Until that happened I'd be as crazy as I wanted. Fuck it.

I shot off down the hallway, only now realizing I was still only in my underwear and I had no boots on. Been through worse, keep going, twenty feet to the elevator, around that corner. If I weren't so groggy I would have remembered some of my training and checked around it first. I exploded around the corner and smacked into something immovable. The sheer force of speed versus solid object was enough to knock me flat and blur my vision.

"Wall." I grunted, checking to see if my nose was busted. Abe caught up and almost fell trying to stop before he himself smacked into the wall.

"Let me see." He removed my hands from my nose and I had the vague memory of my mom doing the same thing to me after I got into a fistfight with a seventh grader.

"Wall, my ass," a grumbly voice snapped.

"I'm trying very hard to keep my mouth shut, Monkeyboy… you left such a tempting opening," said Abe, while dabbing at my nose with a wad of gauze.

I giggled. The wall was talking about its ass! Waitaminute. "Monkeys?" Why wasn't my brain working? What was I just doing?

"Nice panties."

"Shut up, Red." Abe admonished.

"Red! Hi! I know you!" I pointed at the big familiar face. I didn't see Lavinia, so that was a relief.

"What's her deal?"

"She's heavily drugged and just got out of an interrogation."

"Where's Vinny?" I asked. Not that I wanted her there to see me like this. Blackmail material for a lifetime, this was. How about, you just don't think about anything for a while, huh? Just might be a smart idea. Wait until your brain clears before you say anything that you're not supposed to. Clear, fuzzy, back and forth, one moment smooth and the next, baffling. What the hell did Abe poke me with anyway?

I Don't Know What It Was Called, But Next Time I'll Read The Instructions Better.