Hey everybody,
Thank-you so much for all the positive feedback, I really appreciate it. Getting encouragement from people who actually want to read your stuff is really awesome, thanks heaps! I hope you enjoy this next edition to my story, but I'm starting to get a little worried. With so much positive feedback, I've got a lfvot of people to worry about dissappointing! So please don't be dissappointed, and if you are, tell me why and I'll fix it! I'm hoping that before the end of Christmas Holidays I'll be able to do at least one more update, then back to the business of life that leaves so little time for enjoyment...sigh
Anyway, thanks again for your support, you all rock, and please enjoy the fruits of my labour,
Jewelz
Abe was hiding. He felt overwhelmingly guilty about what he'd done a few hours before, but at the same time, overwhelmingly afraid. He had no idea how the professor would react to his insight into his tormented life, and had no idea how to act around someone who had such insight into his life. A few moments after he'd shared his memory, he'd heard Dr. Broom leave the room; he'd wanted to give Abe some space. He wanted Abe to be comfortable, to have time to adjust to each new situation he was put it. He did care.
What an amazing thing! The urge to throw caution to the wind and launch head long into his new life of freedom at this Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense was becoming harder to resist, the belief that it was all a dream or fantasy was fading into the background. As the dread of and falsehood on Dr. Broom's part faded, sleep began to tug at Abe's mind as he sat on the floor of his aquarium, hugging his knees to his chest. Surly it wasn't a dream. It had lasted to long, and if it was, well, it had been a very good dream. As his mind away from consciousness, his body relaxed, and he drifted off into a dark, dreamless, restful sleep, untroubled by any thought or image of his terrible past.
When Abe awoke, he felt a keen sense of wariness. He remembered clearly the past few days: The rescue, the days without sleep, the sharing of a piece of his past. This was the ultimate test. When he opened his eyes, would he be looking out into the library at the Bureau, or would he be looking through the warped and foggy glass of his prison in the hospital? He knew he had to do it; he had to open his eyes. He couldn't spend the rest of his life curled up inside himself, refusing to face reality. Tentatively he reached out with a hand, slowly, cautiously raising it in front of his face expecting at any moment to come into contact with the curved glass of his laboratory tank. He stretched his arm out completely, and felt a lurch of excitement in his stomach. His eyes flew open.
He was looking into the library at the Bureau, the golden light of the fire being reflected off the wood and ancient manuscripts, the shelves upon shelves of books reaching to the ceiling, the desk set off to the side. And at the desk sat Professor Broom, pouring over some book or another. Immediately a pang of guilt assaulted Abe, he'd caused the man a great deal of pain. He knew he had, he'd felt the same pain himself on dozens of occasions. Abe reached out with his mind, trying to get a reading on any strong feelings the professor might be experiencing. Irritation and annoyance? Abe probed further, looking for the cause of the professors discomfort; a four letter word for history? He paused for a moment to think. The Dr. Broom was obviously working on a word problem of some kind, and seemed to be having a great deal of trouble. Thinking the professor would appreciate the help, Abe screwed up his nerve, swam forward to where he'd be visible from the desk and spoke up.
"Would yore fit, Professor?" Abe asked quietly, not wanting to startle the man to badly.
Dr. Broom jumped slightly and glanced up in surprise, "Would my what fit where, sorry?" The professor asked, misunderstanding Abe's suggestion, caught completely off guard.
Abe smiled slightly, "A four letter word for history, sir," Abe explained politely, "yore perhaps?"
Still surprised, Dr. Broom glanced down to his newspaper, trying to hide his surprise and disconcertion with the futile gesture. A grin spread across his face as he realized he'd been handed the answer to the final hint of the day's crossword.
As the professor folded up the newspaper, Abe could feel his mind change tracks. No longer was he thinking about the frivolous crossword, now he was moving to business, serious business. To his surprise, Abe felt nothing of the anger or fear he expected after their last encounter; only a sense of compassion, that unchanging compassion. There was also a hint of wariness; Dr. Broom did not want to go through another episode of Abe's past, but would if it was necessary. That sense of determination touched Abe deeply. Someone was willing to go through that much to try to help him? Abe suddenly knew that Professor Broom was a man of justice, mercy, and that ever-present compassion. He had seen just a glimpse of the injustice of Abe's life, and now would do whatever he could to try to make up some of that, though he was in no way, shape, or form responsible for any of it.
"My thanks, Abe," Dr. Broom said with a nod, "Did you sleep well?"
Abe nodded, "How long did I sleep?"
"Two days," Dr. Broom replied with a wry smile. "I think it did you good. How are you feeling?"
Abe was taken aback. Two days? Dr. Broom was right though, he felt much better, he was thinking straight, and felt an overwhelming sense of excitement. He could finally accept that this was not a dream, it was reality, and he was free.
A smile lit Abe's amphibious face as he replied, "Fine, wonderful actually." He paused, looking around, "It's actually real. I'm actually free." To accentuate his point, Abe launched backward and did a quick summersault and figure eight, reveling in his space. After his momentary outburst of energy, Abe returned to his place hovering in front of Dr. Broom, feeling embarrassed at his childish display of happiness. If he could, he would have been blushing.
Dr. Broom chuckled at Abe's show of enthusiasm, glad to see such a change in the fish-man's mood. He'd been quite worried about the melancholy he seemed to have been caught in. Two days of sleep, and waking up to find himself still in possession of his freedom seemed to have cured him of his depression.
"You saved me," Abe said, his demeanor loosing the carefree childish quality, "You've proved that you really care." Abe paused, "I'm sorry that I needed that proof. I did need it though. I know you're not completely selfless in your quest to help me, either. You want to make an agent out of me."
Taken aback by the completely honest and straightforward testimony, Dr. Broom could only nod. Strangely, he was now the one feeling guilty. Abe was right; Dr. Broom did want to make him into an agent. Abe had shown great intelligence, and his other interesting abilities made all sorts of possibilities come to light.
"You need not feel guilty about anything," Abe replied to the unspoken feeling, "I owe my life to you. I'll happily become an agent for this Bureau of the Paranormal. It does seem rather fitting after all," he mused with a grin.
Dr. Broom was surprised at Abe's immediate agreement to his unspoken request. He'd been expecting some resistance, some convincing needed, but then, he supposed, Abe could probably pick most of the answers to most of his questions right out of his mind.
"I'm surprised at your eagerness to become an agent." Dr. Broom said, "I'd expected a few more hurtles to need jumping before we discussed it. But if you feel as strongly as all that, I suppose we should just get down to business. I'm painfully aware of your past history with tests and experiments," Dr. Broom continued carefully, watching Abe closely for any signs as to what he was thinking, "And I assure you that you'll have none of that hear. I do, however, need some idea of the extent your psychic abilities go, as well as your physical capabilities under and above water."
As Abe listened, he felt a ball of fear forming in his stomach. Tests. Dr. Broom was talking about tests. No, he was talking about training, Abe tried to explain to himself. Dr. Broom knew about his past, he said he understood, he'd never put him through any of that. He knew that, but he still felt the unreasonable fear, the dread.
Dr. Broom watched with apprehension as Abe drifted slowly to the back of the tank as he talked about needed information. He could see now that he'd been right earlier, there were going to be hurtles. He could just imagine the thoughts going around in his head: more tests, more needles, more experiments. He tried to think of some way he could convince him that he'd never go through that again. He thought, as loudly as he could in Abe's direction, that he'd be safe from scientists, that he'd only need to discuss it, and maybe demonstrate a few things.
"Don't worry, you won't be harmed, you just need to tell us about your abilities." The professor assured Abe out loud, "And demonstrate in a more controlled environment what you can do. We won't do anything without your consent, don't worry! You're safe here, you're free."
Abe nodded, he was free. He couldn't completely shake the feeling of being hoodwinked though, and even though he was being bombarded with feelings of safety from Dr. Broom, he couldn't help feeling slightly suspicious at the topic of his 'abilities'. No, he told himself, he'd trust Dr. Broom. If he were ever going to be free, truly free, he'd have to trust Dr. Broom. He nodded again, more to reassure himself then to convey his affirmation. He WOULD be free; he WOULD trust Dr. Broom; He WOULD live his life.