Finding Home

Author's Note: Thank you to those who reviewed the first chapter. I appreciate all of your comments and impressions. Information about Hogan's Alley was gleaned from Wikipedia, feel free to take it with a grain of salt.
psyche b.

2. Life, Interrupted

In her first couple of days at the BPRD, Bethany stayed in her room, refusing to do any of the training the professor had scheduled for her. On the third day, he sat down with her in the library.

“Bethany, I hate to see you so upset.” There was concern in his eyes. Seeing it there made her feel bad for causing so much trouble.

“I'm not who you I think I am. I'm not a fighting kind of person.” She across from him, one leg folded under her, the other foot resting on the edge of the chair.

“I know that hasn't been your experience.” He nodded. “It doesn't come naturally for most, and those who enjoy it usually don't manage well as part of a team in situations like the ones we handle.”

“What makes you think I can do it though?” She couldn't quite look at him.

“It's just a feeling I have about you. Besides, it's taken a great deal of strength and ingenuity to live as you've lived. Those are qualities that translate well to what we do. Still,” He took a thoughtful breath. “This isn't a prison. I can't force you to stay indefinitely.”

“What do you mean 'indefinitely'?” She was curious.

“You'll forgive me for saying so, but right now you're dangerous to yourself and others. It's one of the reasons I agreed to the extreme measures that brought you here in the first place. I would have liked to take a softer approach, but Benton taught you to be so suspicious. There was no other way to get near you. I'd like you to stay until you understand and can control your psychokinesis.” He smiled gently. “As frightening as your arrival here was, there are other elements that would do just about anything to possess a power like yours. I'd like you to be prepared.” She had always found that it was nearly impossible to argue with someone when they were making sense.

“I went to Dr. Parrish because I wanted to get rid of it.” She said softly.

“I know, but that isn't realistic, Bethany. It's not like having your nose reshaped or coloring your hair. It was a part of you from the moment you were conceived and it's one of the things that make you who you are at the most basic level.” His tone was gentle.

“It scares me.” She Bethany couldn't look him in the eyes as she said it. “You said yourself that I was dangerous.”

“I know.” He nodded. “If you'll trust me, I can help you replace that fear with confidence and purpose.”

“What if I screw up? I mean, hurt someone kind of screw up?” She'd been worried about that since her arrival.

“You'll make mistakes, we all do. I have to believe that with a bit of assistance though, you'll have enough control to stop worrying so much about that, and focus on what you can do with your ability. Besides, you seemed quite able to channel it that first morning.” She smiled a little. As stressful as that first morning had been, the fact that she hadn't lost control had been a great relief and a pleasant surprise. Bethany sighed.

“Alright.” She turned to look at him. “I'll try at least.”

“Thank you.” He smiled.

That evening, Bethany decided that she would put all of her energy into the professor's plan and see where it took her. She spent most mornings with Abe, either in the library, or sometimes he wore some sort of reverse aqua-lung that allowed him to spend time out of the water. She found that after the first few days, she looked forward to her time with him. What's more, after a relatively short period of time, she had a great deal more control than she'd had before. She wasn't very good at using it on command when she wasn't upset, but he assured her that would come in time. For some reason, she believed him.

Abe and the professor both encouraged her to talk to about her father. At first that had been difficult, but they were both so understanding that she found herself opening up more and more. Bethany had always believed that if she had been a normal child, her father would have had a normal life. He would have continued with his research and lived a comfortable life in the suburbs instead of living hand-to-mouth for years just to protect her. She hadn't realized that the weight of the guilt she was carrying around was so crushing until she started to release some of it. She found that once she was able to start letting some of that go, her control was better and the result was stronger.

The afternoons were spent doing some form of physical training. Bethany had always been fit, so in the beginning she thought that would be the part of the day she enjoyed most. She did like her exercise routine, but no one told her that hand to hand combat training translated to 'Beat on Bethany'. She was lousy at it, and not getting much better as time went on. She felt sorry for Special Agent Sanders. He was doing his best, and the fact that she wasn't improving made him look bad.

She was doing a bit better with learning to shoot. Her father had taught her how to handle a rifle when she was thirteen, and she had gotten to be a reasonably good shot. This was her first experience with a handgun, though. At least she didn't feel like a complete failure when she was on the range.

Some evenings she spent in the library. Usually she was alone, but the professor left her a reading list so that she could learn more about the occult and its use in their work. Sometimes she had to reread the passages several times, and she still couldn't always grasp what was written. When she got too frustrated with that, she read and reread the two books her father had written on the subject of psychokinesis. Another advantage to spending time in the library was that Davis never went in there.

Despite the professor's assurances to the contrary, Ellen Davis seemed to be 'managing the realities of her job' just fine. She just didn't like them. Bethany had tried being polite and undemanding. When that didn't work, she let her sarcasm take over when she had to interact with Davis, but still did most things for herself. In her last job, Bethany had been a maid for a family with four children. She didn't need someone to cook her meals or clean up after her. A pleasant 'hello' would have meant a lot, though.

Hellboy – or, Red, as he had told her to call him – was another puzzle. She hadn't had a reason to spend very much time with him, but that didn't mean she didn't want to. She was supposed to work with him eventually. Even if that turned out to be an abbreviated time, she didn't really want to trust a complete stranger with her life. She didn't really know how to approach him, either. Bethany was naturally shy, and a life lived below the radar had only enhanced that natural tendency. She could talk to the professor because he reminded her of her father in a way. Abe seemed to understand one of the most secret parts of her existence from the minute he set eyes on her. She just didn't have any of those connections with Red, and she was at a loss as to how to form any.

Later in the evening, Bethany was usually in the gym on the balance beam. The fact that they had one at all had been a pleasant surprise. She had never had any formal training in gymnastics, but the first time she and her father settled somewhere for more than a few weeks he had gotten a job as a gardener and the family he worked for had a little girl Bethany's age. They got along well and spent all the time they could together. Sarah liked gymnastics, but she wasn't as into it as her parents wanted her to be. They did have a beam though. Sarah showed Bethany what she had learned in her classes and Bethany imitated her friend. The concentration of just walking back and forth helped to quiet her mind when she was younger. When they moved on, she missed it and her father built a beam that could be disassembled for storage or travel. It was a reassuringly solid object in a transient existence.

In the intervening years, she had moved beyond just walking though. She was no Olympian, but she had taught herself a few tricks through trial and error. Mostly they were simple things like spins and rolls, but she had begun adding handstands and walkovers as well. The weight training she'd started was paying off. After ten the gym was mostly deserted, so she could exercise without being watched. It still helped quiet her mind, though not in quite the same way.

*~*~*~*~*~*

“So what does she do at night?” Hellboy curled the weight in his left arm, the metal plates clinked against each other rhythmically. He watched Myers setting up his fourth meal of the day.

“Who?” He stopped mid-curl and fixed a glare on the back of the agent's head. Myers looked over his shoulder at the flat, yellow stare. “Oh, her. How should I know? Why don't you ask her?”

“Nah.” The weight started to move again. “That would make me look interested.”

“You are interested, or you wouldn't have asked me.” Myers rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but I don't want her to know that.” Red glanced at the floor to make sure there were no cats nearby, then dropped the weight. “Ask Davey, or whatever her name is.” He sat down and started to eat.

“Davis.” Myers checked the stock of cat food and litter.

“Huh?” He looked up. “Yeah, whatever. 'Sides, you're in the FBI, I thought you liked to investigate stuff.”

Myers sighed.

“She spends a lot of time in her room. Other than that, she likes to go to the library.” He put a couple of six-packs in the fridge.

“Knew you'd know. She go alone?”

“I don't know. Why don't you go down there and find out?” Myers sounded exasperated. It was always fun to see how fast he could change the agent's mood from 'indifferent' to 'ready to scream in frustration'.

“'Cause. I'm eating.”

“So go after you're done. Besides,” He looked at his watch. “She's still with Sanders.”

“Sanders?” He was halfway through the first large bowl of spaghetti.

“Hand to hand combat. From what I hear, she's terrible at it.” Red grunted. It had been barely six weeks. He knew Father would fight her going into the field until she was ready. Besides, how bad could she be? “I'll be back for the dishes.” Myers left him alone.

He hadn't wanted to be interested. He was convinced that it was his interest in Liz that had driven her away, although she hadn't come out and said that. That depression had lasted for months, and he decided at the end of it that it was safer not to get involved at all. Meeting Bethany had ruptured that illusion the first morning. Sure, he appreciated a good sarcastic remark, but he also appreciated the way she didn't show an ounce of fear the first time they met. Well, not of him anyway. He would have thought there was something wrong with her if she had taken the rest in stride so easy.

Still, he couldn't just go up to her and start talking. What would he say? What would she say? What if she didn't say anything, then what? Course it wasn't like he was going to ask her out on a date or something. Besides, he didn't like having strangers on his team. It was dangerous.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Bethany sat sideways in one of the chairs in the library, her back propped against one arm, her legs dangling over the other one. She really should have been studying, but for some reason she couldn't seem to concentrate. So, she immersed herself in fourth book of Piers Anthony's Xanth series instead. Davis had been unusually compliant when she'd asked for them, and she'd been spacing them out to make them last. There was no telling when the agent's mood would be so good again. Bethany wasn't sure how long she had been reading when she caught the scent of cigar smoke, or thought she did. There was silence only silence from the direction of the door, but she recognized the scent immediately.

“Hi Red.” She tilted her head back and smiled at his upside down image.

“Thought you weren't that kind of psychic.” He smiled a little and came in.

“I'm not. Your cigar smoke precedes you.” She closed the book in her lap and watched him sit down.

“Manning smokes 'em too.” He took the half finished cigar out of his mouth and exhaled a cloud of bluish smoke.

“Not the same kind.” She answered. “Or if he does, they smell completely different on him than they do on you.”

“It bother you?” He asked.

“On you, or on Manning?” She responded without thinking.

“Both.” He answered. She glanced down at the book in her lap again.

“Manning, yes. You, no. Like I said, it's a different smell.” She smiled a little. He looked as though he was at a loss as to what to say next, and so was she. He picked up a book off of the side table and started leafing through it. Bethany opened her own book again, but she couldn't remember where she had left off. She started scanning the page.

“So what's it called?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Centaur Aisle.” She held up the cover of the book so that she could see it.

“No, your PK specialty.” His tail was twitching. “Course if you don't wanna say-”

“No, it's okay.” She said quickly. “Actually, I'm kind of getting used to it. I can move things when I'm really upset, but aerokinesis is my main strength according to Abe.” The early days she'd spent with the merman had been a frustrating series of tests. At the end, she didn't care what he thought she as good at, as long as she didn't keep prodding her to 'try this'.

“Show me.”

“Now?” She was suddenly terrified. Abe was the only one who watched her use her abilities, and her control was still spotty enough to give her real pause before doing any demonstrations.

“Yeah, now.” He was smiling again. “ What? You got someplace else to be?”

“If you give me a minute, I'll think of someplace.” Her stomach was suddenly full of butterflies.

“C'mon, you did it that first day.”

“Yeah, but that was different.” She sighed. “You realize there's a good chance that I'll screw this up completely and if I do there'll be a very big mess in here.”

He shrugged.

“So? I'll get Myers and you'll get Davis and they'll clean it up while we have a beer.” Bethany gave a short laugh and shook her head.

“Yeah right. Davis won't give me the time of day, I'm sure she'd jump right on it if I asked her to do something like that.”

“That's 'cause you're asking, you need to start telling. We're the talent, they're the help. Ready?” Aside from physically leaving the room or feigning some kind of breakdown, it was clear he wasn't going to let her out of it. She marked her page and turned around in the chair.

“Okay, but I don't make any guarantees as to what's going to happen.” She thought for a minute. “Hold your hand out like this.” She held out one hand palm up. He held out his normal hand. Bethany tore several small pieces off of the pink bookmark she was using. She crumpled them up, and placed them on his palm.

Bethany's heart was pounding as she sat down, she closed her eyes and then opened them again, keeping them on the pattern of the carpet. She struggled even start to gather her energy.

“You're not gonna hurt me.” He said. It wasn't a question, or a request. It was just a statement of fact, delivered in a reassuring tone. She looked up at him.

“I know.” The response was quick, but it lacked sincerity. She looked away. “I'm used to the idea of having it, but using it still feels like a disaster waiting to happen.” She took a deep breath and found her well of energy. When Bethany opened her eyes again she focused on his hand. She moved the air in a circle around his palm and then spun up a little dust devil in the center of it, carrying the pieces of paper in a swirling pattern. After a few seconds, she let it dissipate and the scraps fell back into his palm. After it was gone completely, she realized she was holding her breath. She let it out in a relieved rush and sat back in the chair.

“Knew you could do it, and no disasters.” He was smiling a little.

“No disasters.” She blushed, and a little silence grew in the room.

“Want a beer anyway?” He asked. His tail had that twitch again.

“I'd like that.” She smiled and got up and took the scraps from his palm.

That night, she was introduced to his cats, his mess, his unrivaled ability to eat, and his unique television preferences. The next night, she introduced him to three dozen of her homemade chocolate chip cookies. To his credit, he did offer her one before devouring the rest.

After that, Bethany noticed that Red started spending more time in the library than he had before. Sometimes, Abe or the professor was present too, but most of the time they were alone. At first, deep silences would grow between them and Bethany found herself searching for something – anything – to say. She also started to notice that in the midst of those awkward silences his tail would twitch, even though the rest of his body seemed relaxed. Once she recognized the connection, she began to fill the silence by asking questions about her reading. Usually it was an honest question. She couldn't always follow the professor's books and he was good at explaining things in simple, direct terms. Sometimes she just wanted to dispel the tension in the room. As time went on though, those silences grew less and less frequent.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Hogan's Alley at the BPRD was set up on the same principle as one at the Quantico facility. There were innocent bystanders who had to be protected, and bad guys who would do their best to 'kill' the agent before the agent could 'kill or subdue' them. In Quantico, it was a ten acre facility with homes, a bank, a barber shop and other buildings that any other town would have. The BPRD variant had a town, but there was a dimly lit, underground facility as well. In the town, investigation and care were highlighted. Underground, survival was all that mattered.

Bethany was on her fourth trip through the underground facility. The first time was about a month after her arrival, and she had been nailed with a blue paintball before she ever fired a single shot. Each time though, she had managed to get further. As she did, she got a better concept of the tactics Special Agent Glen Kelleher had been trying to teach her for the last five months. Now, she was almost at the end. A dozen agents were wearing her orange paint splatters, and she was sure that she was going to make it out this time. So sure that she got careless. She heard the sound of the shot an instant before she felt the burning sting on her right thigh and then again on the right side of her chest.

“DAMN!” She swore loudly and took off her helmet and safety glasses. She resisted the urge to rub her ribs. That would have spread the paint all over her hand. The lights came on, and she saw that the door was only a few feet away. Glen stepped out of the shadows.

“Gotcha.” He wore a little smile as he got rid of his helmet and glasses as well. He tucked them under his arm and opened the door for her.

“I was so close.” She stepped out into the light again. He laughed and shook his head.

“For someone who'd never had any training until she got here, you did really well. Besides, a gun isn't exactly the only tool in your toolbox.” Glen had one of the those million-dollar smiles, and whenever he was around her he seemed to smile a great deal.

“Well thanks.” She laughed. “But I think a gun might be the most reliable tool I have. I'll hope you're right though.”

“I am.” He said firmly. He stopped walking and ran his fingers through his sandy hair. “You want some coffee, or something?”

“Sounds good.” She smiled.

“Great. Go get changed, and I'll-”

“Changed?” She laughed. “Why?” He shrugged a little.

“Well, I thought it might be nice to get out of here for a little while. I know it gets a little – confining - for me, I thought you might feel the same way.” His smile turned mischievous. “Though if you want to go just like that, that's alright with me. The boots kinda make a statement.”

Bethany looked down at the blue paint splattered across the black fatigues she was wearing. She could only imagine what her hair must have looked like after being under that helmet.

“Well, I wouldn't want to put Donna Karen out of business. Might destabilize the whole economy.” She nodded seriously, then laughed. So did he.

“Meet you in the lobby in twenty then?” He smiled.

“I'm a girl, make it forty.” She walked away wondering what she could do to herself in forty minutes that would look casual and terrific at the same time. She decided to start with a shower and see how things went from there.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Bethany still hated the city. It was still too big, still too loud and there were still too many people, but at least this time she wasn't alone in the middle of it. That helped immensely. They were sitting in the corner of a cafe called the Jasper Moon. They were sipping overpriced, fancy coffee and having a remarkably comfortable conversation. Bethany wasn't used to that.

“So,” Bethany asked. “Why the FBI?”

“I wanted to help people.” His answered sounded rehearsed, even when surrounded by the drone of conversation.

“Okay.” She sipped her coffee, a little smile on her lips. “So the real reason is a secret?”

“No, it's just that most people don't want to hear about the selfish reasons.” He thought for a minute, turning his cup slowly on the table. “I'm a gun guy, I've always been a gun guy. That's one of the reasons I went into the Marines right out of high school. That, and because the idea of college just wasn't interesting to me. There were parts of it I loved, but I knew pretty early on it those things weren't enough for me to make it a career. Because of my military experience, I knew I wanted to use my firearms skills. After I got out, I went back to college applied to the bureau. This was my first assignment.”

“How long ago was that?” Bethany was surrounded by agents every day, but she knew very little about any of them. It was clear that some of them wanted it that way. With the others, Bethany had a hard time bringing up the subject of personal history. Usually a person expected reciprocity when they answered personal questions, she had never been in the position to provide it. Now that she was, it still seemed unnatural to her.

“Close to five years now.” Glen answered after a moment's thought. “What about you?”

“It's my first assignment, too.” She responded, a little smile on her lips.

“That's not what I mean.” He laughed.

“I don't know.” She considered her next question. “You know I didn't exactly sign up for this, right?”

“You might say that. Manning had you down as a major flight risk until a week ago.” Bethany's eyebrows rose.

“No one told me that.” She said.

“I don't think the professor was ever really on board with it.” He took a long swallow of coffee.

“So now I'm – what? Not a risk anymore?” She was curious now.

“No, you've been downgraded to 'flight risk'.”

“Lovely.” She rolled her eyes. “How do I get off the watch-list?”

“I don't really know. You have to admit though, you have a talent for disappearing.” He said it with a little smile that took the sting of accusation out of what he was saying.

“Daddy did what he thought was best at the time. I mean, it wasn't easy to live that way, but I don't think it would have been any easier or better to live here either. That's not to say I'm going to go over the wall in the middle of the night, though.” Surprisingly, she hadn't thought about leaving at all for at least three and a half months.

“When you're in a job like Manning's you tend to look at worst-case scenario. I don't think it's personal.” He chuckled. “I am curious though, did you just move around all the time?”

“Yes and no.” She sipped her coffee and thought about how to phrase it. “Daddy figured we couldn't just settle down somewhere, so for the first year we didn't spend more than two weeks in any one place. I don't really remember that time very well because I was so young. I think he tried to make it as normal as possible for me, but a year on the road took its toll.”

“How old were you?” His greenish-gray eyes were on hers, there seemed to be nothing in them but concerned curiosity.

“They didn't tell you any of this?” Her natural suspicion slipped free of the bonds of his winning smile and fascinating eyes. He just smiled.

“What they told me was that I was going to assist in the training of a new 'unique' field operative. They told me your name, that you were twenty-three, and that you were a major flight risk who might not take to a training regimen at first.” The corner of his mouth curled into a smile. “They left out that you were beautiful.”

Bethany laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Everything goes down easier when coated with cheese?” There was a little smirk on her lips.

“Well, I had to throw it in there.” He laughed. She shook her head.

“I was seven when we settled the first time in Connecticut. Daddy chose rural areas mostly, because we could live outside of town and people in those kinds of places tend to leave you alone if you keep to yourself. We stayed there for about a year, then moved on to Kentucky for another year or so. After that, we were nomads again for awhile.”

“That's how you did it? That's how you dropped off the face of the Earth for years?” He seemed shocked and incredulous. That wasn't the whole story, but it was as much of the story as she was prepared to tell him.

“If you keep your head down and don't make trouble, it's amazing how you blend in. Besides, was anyone actively looking?” Her father had always told her they would be. Sometimes she believed him, sometimes she didn't.

“I'm not the right one to ask about that.” He shook his head a little. “It just seems,” He paused, searching for the right word. “Deceptively simple.”

“Do you know anything about my father?” There was a little smile on her lips.

“Not really. He was a professor or something wasn't he?”

“He did some teaching.” She nodded. “But mostly he was a researcher. He always said that the simple things were often the most complex.” She pushed her empty cup aside.

“What did he do while you were traveling?” He seemed genuinely interested.

“Odd jobs. Gardening, painting, things that he could get paid in cash for. Sometimes he'd find someone to hire him at a regular job and pay him under the table. As I grew up, I did the same kinds of things. What about your family?” She rested her chin in her hand, watching him curiously.

“My father worked on the line at Ford. He retired just before I joined the Bureau. My mother is a housewife. She hated the idea of me being in the Marines, when I told her about being accepted to the FBI academy I thought she would never speak to me again. My father was thrilled, but he pretended to be upset for her sake.” She laughed.

“What did she want you to do?”

“Accounting, or anything else that didn't involve guns. She feels better about it now though. As long as I only train other people, she figures I can't be too much in harm's way. Would you like more?” He pointed at her empty cup.

“No thanks.” She smiled and glanced at her watch. “I promised to watch a movie with HB tonight anyway. I'm really glad you suggested this, though. It was good to get out for a bit.”

“You actually spend time with him?” He smiled, but it was an insincere kind of smile.

“I enjoy spending time with him. Something wrong with that?” Her eyes held his.

“No, nothing at all.” She didn't believe him, but she decided to let it go for now. “Maybe you'll go to a movie with me sometime, we could have dinner afterward.” He continued looking at her, but his expression softened a little.

“That would be fun.” She wasn't entirely certain if it would be fun or not, but she couldn't think of a nice way to say that.

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Bethany, your control is-”

“Glen Kelleher asked me out yesterday, or at least I think he did.” Abe had been scolding all morning. He was right, but it wasn't helping any. The words came out in a rush. Abe looked at her for a moment. She turned away when she felt herself blush.

“Shall we go inside?” He asked. The last few times they met, they had worked outdoors. It was the only place she could experiment with the full force of her aerokinetic ability. After all of that time working on precision and control, allowing herself to let go was shocking at first. She nodded. “I'll meet you in the library.” He said.

Bethany took the opportunity to back to her room and brush out her hair. She didn't mind looking like she had rolled in a leafpile when she was practicing, but walking around like that afterward just seemed unkempt. By the time she got to the library, Abe was back in the water.

“Do you mind?” He gestured to the jar of eggs. Bethany obliged, she had almost gotten used to the stench. “Thank you.” She sat down and waited until he finished eating. He had agreed in the very beginning not to read her unless it was an emergency. She wasn't sure why she trusted him to stick to it, but she did.

“When did he ask?” He prompted.

“Yesterday. He took me out for coffee and we talked and he mentioned dinner and a movie and I think I said yes.” Bethany was still confused by her own reaction. Normally she would have said no. Not maybe, not that she would think about it, just no. It was simpler that way. There were no questions, and no opportunity for bad things to happen.

“I don't see the problem.” Abe watched her. “Didn't you have a good time?”

“Yeah, but I don't really date. I mean I have a couple of times, but that didn't work out very well.” She turned and sat sideways in the chair, propped her back against one arm and rested her legs over the other.

“Your abilities interfered?” He asked.

“Once.” She replied.

“What happened?” He urged. Both Abe and the professor had been encouraging her to talk about her past. Some parts were becoming easier to reveal, but there were still walls around others.

“I don't know. It was a few weeks after Daddy died. I was lonely so I went out and I met this guy. We talked a little, danced a little and he asked me out. He seemed alright, so I said yes. We went on a picnic and he got – really aggressive – and I guess I moved air away from him somehow. I watched him cough and turn blue, then he passed out. I left. Left town, left the state.” That was the incident that had driven her to Dr. Parrish. She assumed he had survived, he was moving as she left.

“That was the only time?”

“That it turned out quite that bad, yes. The other one was just boring and awkward.”

“In other words, very normal from what I understand.” He nodded.

“Fifty-fifty isn't a stellar record. If your breathing device only worked fifty percent of the time, would you leave the water?” She asked. He thought for a moment.

“Probably not. Though relationships are much more complex than that. I'm no expert, but going to a movie and dinner with someone whose company you enjoyed seems perfectly normal and natural to me. You're not obligated to go again if you have a bad time. Besides, you have much more control now. Usually.”

She laughed.

“I'm sorry.” She rubbed her eyes. “I can literally create a tempest in a teapot but 'normal' throws me completely off balance.” The pager on her hip went off. She could feel the color drain from her face when she looked at Abe. Davis had brought her the pager a couple of weeks before and explained that when it went off, she would be expected in the conference room. It had gone off once before. When she'd arrived it was a pre-mission briefing. Thankfully, she hadn't had to go on the mission itself.

“Seems we're being summoned.” His voice was as calm as ever, he turned and swam off. Bethany learned early on that the way the building and his tank were constructed, he was able to be present in a number of different rooms without actually leaving the water. Bethany turned off the incessant beeping and tried to get hold of herself as she walked down the hall. She reminded herself that she might not have to go anywhere. When she arrived, she saw the FBI field team gathered. Manning and the professor were at the front of the room. Abe was waiting. There were two empty chairs, she sat down in the normal-sized one and hoped no one noticed her.

“Bethany, did you see Hellboy on your way here?” Manning asked.

“No.” The word had a little croak of nervousness in it.

“He'll be here.” The professor said. Within minutes of the assurance, Red walked in.

“Nice of you to join us.” Manning said.

“Thought you'd be thrilled.” He sat next to Bethany. She wondered if he could hear her heart pounding.

“Now that everyone's finally here, we can start. Professor.” Manning sat down.

“In the year 600, St. Romains vanquished a dragon-like beast known as Gargoiulle. The accepted legend says that he used the power of the church to subdue the creature and a rope made of his priest's robe to lead the beast back to Rouen, where the monster was burned at the stake. Gargoiulle's head and neck would not burn, so they were mounted on the town wall. Of course, as is often the case, the legend has oversimplified the story and left out a number of salient points. The one they called Gargoiulle was not a natural creature, it was a conjured into this world by a magician seeking power. I've received confirmation that a dabbler recently conjured six similar beasts.”

“We going after him too?” Red asked.

“We would be, but being that he was inexperienced, he never really had any control of his creations to begin with. They killed him and even though they're relatively weak and flawed in many ways, they have been terrorizing the countryside. We leave for France in thirty minutes, there will be a more complete briefing on the plane.”

“Bethany, you're going as too.” Manning said.

“What?! No!” There was a note of undisguised panic in her voice. She dispelled the rush of gathered energy almost unconsciously. She made her way to the front of the room, past agents walking the opposite way. “Sanders said yesterday I was mediocre at best and I can't even get through-”

“You're as ready as you're going to get. You're going.” He turned away and shuffled through a stack of papers.

“Professor?” She was feeling desperate now. Her eyes were pleading.

“Some of your skills aren't as developed as they could be, but the more important ones are most definitely ready.” He put his hand on her back and urged her toward the door. “Besides, you won't be alone.” He assured her. Bethany turned and saw Red hovering in the doorway. He held her eyes for a moment, then turned to leave.