Kindred

Author note: While I will always consider myself a stronger fan of Hellboy/BPRD comics instead of the movies, I still enjoy the latter very much, due in no small part to the wonderful performances by the lead actors. I will confess to a particular love of Doug Jones, and his version of Abe Sapien.

For a long time now, I've wanted to write a story I could dedicate to Doug Jones. The idea for this story came as I read a few interviews and articles about Doug Jones, in which he stated his love and admiration for dolphins. I could only imagine that Abe shares Doug's love for his kindred species.

The monster depicted in this story, the Each Uisge, is a water-demon from Scottish mythology, renowned for being one of the meanest creatures of the sea. Maybe even a little too much for Abe to handle on his own.

For Doug Jones, with much love.

Abe Sapien blinked frantically; the waters around him were quickly becoming saturated with dark blue blood, leaving him with the cold, dark fear that he may very well be facing the end.

His back scraped against the broken, rocky pillar behind him, covered here and there with an eon's worth of slimy algae. On the pillar wall were barely-visible runic carvings, evidence of aquatic societies and religions now lost to the ages. They were so ancient, in fact, that Abe could barely pick up any psychic images as he braced his shaking hands against the bumps and strings of algae, and it was probably for the best; he didn't have the strength at the moment to deal with an onslaught of visions in his mind's eye. He'd been fortunate to find the rocky niche, created by the collapsed pillars, barely large enough to accommodate his body; however, a glance into the murky open waters told him he was as good as trapped, and worse still, as good as dead.

The Each Uisge swam around in menacing circles, determined to flush out its prey from the unreachable spot. The demonic water-horse's body was massive and heavily muscled, its head and corded neck adorned with a mane that had the appearance of ragged fins. Despite its bulk, it swam with surprising speed and agility, paddling at the water with large, clawed hooves. It snapped its massive jaws and released a roar, made even more terrible and deafening by the underwater reverberations.

Abe quickly retreated back into his hiding space before the Each Uisge could spot him, though he feared the beast could smell the blood from his wounds and was merely waiting for him to either try and make his escape, or to float out, weakened and unconscious, easily picked off as a snack. Escape and be eaten, or wait to die here of blood loss; neither option was exactly palatable.

Hellboy would be waiting above the surface for him, no doubt peering into the water at that moment, waiting for him to pop up, unaware of Abe's grievously injured state. Waiting in that rented boat with Lawrence, the British liaison who had first contacted the BPRD when oddly-mangled bodies had begun to turn up on the Scottish coast.

Setting out onto the North Sea on their little boat, they had expected to find a disgruntled kelpie. That would have been quite simple; Abe had fought kelpies before, and they were ill-tempered, though easy to dispatch. But what he found, after swimming for hours and diving into the dark depths of the North Sea, was certainly no kelpie.

Instead, he had come face-to-face with an Each Uisge, a vicious water-horse of Scottish lore. The beast had not taken kindly to Abe's intrusion into its underwater territory; sighting its prey, it had reared up in the water, like a stallion on dry land, and with breathless speed had sunk its massive teeth around Abe's leg.

With superhuman force, the Each Uisge had shaken its prize within its jaws, leaving Abe disoriented, gasping, until his leg slipped free of the teeth with an agonising tearing sensation and his body was hurled through the murky waters. He'd struck the rocky edge of the ruins with such force as to leave him dizzy and nauseous with pain.

The impact had nearly cracked his skull; as it was, it had done a fairly good job of cracking his ribs, and it had taken several moments for Abe to re-orient himself, struggling to draw in water through the agony in his chest.

He had managed to coast over to the ruins, where the Each Uisge couldn't reach him, its body too thick and bulky to navigate through the ancient pillars. However, a quick inventory of his injuries told Abe that the shelter was only a temporary reprieve; his ribs were throbbing viciously, and he could barely breathe enough to stay conscious, let alone move freely enough to swim. To make matters worse, the wound on his leg, the flesh torn by the Each Uisge's teeth, was bleeding copiously, and would finish him off soon after.

He was trapped, alone, unable to swim to freedom, and with no way to summon help.

Abe sighed in despair, wincing at the taste of blood in the water around him, shivering as he allowed his body to rest against the carved wall. He blinked, feeling lightheaded, fearing he would pass out soon. So, this was the end; he only felt sorry that he would not have the chance to say farewell to Hellboy and Liz first.

Shadows nipped at the edges of his vision. As Abe stared out into the gloomy waters, he could swear that one of the shadows had taken shape, moving sinuously around the ancient pillars; as it neared his hiding spot, he realized the movement was that of a swimming beast, paddling closer to him as though summoned.

A kelpie? A curious fish? Another water-monster, out to take another bite out of him?

Abe blinked curiously as the creature came to a stop within an arm's reach of him; it was a dolphin. A short-beaked common dolphin; he recognized the breed immediately. He knew they swam in the North Sea, but hadn't counted on running into any of them on the mission. It bobbed gracefully in the water, obviously curious about the strange fish-man squirreled away in its habitat, observing him as though determining if he was friend, or foe, or perhaps even food.

The Each Uisge then snarled and bellowed, so loudly that it made Abe's head ache, a stark reminder that this place was not safe.

"Go on, leave," he said, blood-tinged bubbles following the words out of his mouth. He raised a hand to shoo the dolphin away, trying to warn it away, lest it become another victim of the Each Uisge. "You're not safe here. Leave."

The dolphin didn't move away; of course it couldn't understand Abe's instructions, his clumsy, inefficient speech, made doubly warbled by being underwater. Frustrated, and fearful that the innocent dolphin's curiosity would result in its demise by way of water-horse, Abe again tried to weakly wave it away. Again, it remained in place, though its large curious eyes followed the movement of Abe's hand with keen interest. To Abe's astonishment, as he held his hand, with the sensitive, psychic fingers splayed out towards the dolphin, he could sense its interest in him, reaching far beyond the desire to determine if Abe was a snack or not.

Could it be...? He wondered. It was a long shot, but then again, stranger things had happened, and it wasn't like he was in a hurry to go anywhere at the moment.

Abe raised his arm, away from his body and towards the dolphin, hesitating for a moment as the motion pulled at his injured ribs. He managed enough movement to hold his hand, palm out, level with the dolphin's beak. Whether it understood his intentions, or was simply curious about the strange limb in front of its nose, the dolphin inched closer with a flick of a flipper, completing the connection as Abe's palm gently touched it smooth, rubbery skin.

There was a flurry of images then in Abe's head—instincts, yearnings, memories, feelings, oh God, feelings. He could sense its always-present desire for food, its vague sense of awareness of nearby danger, the underlying instinct that led it to seek Abe out. It was clear as day, from their connection, that the dolphin had come to him, concerned, sensing his distress and feeling a kinship with the odd being that was not dolphin, or fish, or human, but a friend who needed help.

Abe marvelled at the contact. The dolphin was not only curious, but worried about him. As he floated with the creature's nose cradled in his palm, Abe wondered how to further the communication; to his surprise, the dolphin made the first overture.

It wasn't language exactly, not in the classic land-dwelling mammal sense, but through the intuitive connection Abe could feel the dolphin's thought process coalesce into a single primitive, but clear sentiment: "Friend."

The sentiment was warm, assured, and through his haze of pain and his surprise at receiving such a clear message, Abe instantly felt a measure of comfort at their connection.

"That's right," Abe answered back through their link. He concentrated on imprinting the thought with equal feelings of warmth and assurance, hoping the dolphin would understand that he was responding positively. "I am your friend. I mean you no harm. And you mean me no harm."

The creature edged a bit closer, pressing itself harder into his outstretched palm; Abe could see its bright, intelligent eyes darting up and sideways, as though observing him from head to toe, seeing or smelling the dark whorls of blue in the water from his injured leg.

When it 'spoke' again, the sentiment was tinged with what felt remarkably like concern, followed by faded memories of the unpleasant sensation of nips and strikes by rival dolphins and predators. "Pain."

"Yes, pain," Abe agreed, and the reminder made the burning ache of his wounds flare once more, almost unbearably so. He struggled to draw in a shallow gillfull of water against his throbbing ribs. "That beast swimming out there hurt me. You need to swim away from here, before it hurts you too."

A pang of—was it anger? Aggression? Whatever its human equivalent, Abe could feel it, hot and clear, running through the dolphin's mind. It understood about the Each Uisge, and to his shock, Abe realized it was angry about the dangerous beast.

"Danger," was the next sentiment.

"Much danger," Abe said. He gently pushed against the dolphin's beak; if it didn't understand his words, maybe it would understand the gesture. "You must go away. Leave. Danger for you, too. Do you understand?"

Stubbornly, the dolphin pushed back against his hand. The feelings of anger, the sentiment of danger, were still clear and present in the dolphin's mind, but he refused to leave. Abe was torn between frustration at the dolphin's refusal to run and protect itself, and gratitude that his new companion was staying by his side. At the very least, he was thankful that the last thing he would know was this bond, though it broke his heart to think that it would be cut short, either by the dolphin's eventual departure, or by his own death.

There was so much he wanted to explore with the creature, so much more he wanted to communicate. He'd had no idea he was capable of such communication; was it because they were kindred species, in a sense, or was it somehow because of the dolphin's unique intelligence?

"I wish I'd known before," Abe said, though he doubted the dolphin would understand what was being said. "I wish I could have spoken to others of your kind. I do wish you'd do the smart thing and go save yourself, though I do like the idea of having a friend close by before-"

He couldn't finish the thought, and heart-wrenching as it was, he felt guilty for sending feelings of fear and sorrow through to his new friend. The dolphin was reacting to his distress, nuzzling Abe's palm with its beak in a surprisingly comforting caress, and Abe sensed the flurry of thought process. He blinked, shocked when the dolphin suddenly formed two coherent, clear thoughts—one now- familiar, the other not.

"Friend," it said again, with conviction. And then, with equal conviction, "Help."

Through their link, Abe received brief, fleeting memories—instances of the dolphin swimming to strike at predators, protecting the members of its pod, snapping at larger fish to defend the young, receiving vicious nips of its own, the pain overshadowed by the desire to protect.

"You'd like to help me?" Abe asked. Though he was no dolphin, and surely the dolphin wasn't seeing him as a pod member, or an infant dolphin, but… was the idea truly so ridiculous? He had seen the stories, the news articles, about humans hurt or lost at sea, threatened by sharks, protected by dolphins that swam around them, keeping danger away until help could arrive.

Before Abe could wonder at the dolphin's next move, it broke the psychic connection, undulating its flippers to swim away from Abe. Bereft of the connection, Abe felt a pang of sadness, though it was quickly replaced by curiosity as he watched the dolphin swim to a strategic position, eyeing the Each Uisge that still prowled dangerously close by, waiting to eat its injured prey. It spotted the dolphin, twisting its equine body to face the new prey.

Quick as lightning, the dolphin swam.

With stunning speed and strength, the dolphin ducked under the Each Uisge's swiping claws and rammed the centre of its belly. The demonic horse sputtered and raged, obviously injured by the blow, struggling to re-orient itself to face its unexpected attacker. By that time, however, the dolphin had had enough time to swim far enough away to build up its speed once more, and delivered another swift strike to the Each Uisge's unprotected torso.

The second blow left the monster dazed, swimming clumsily from the pain of the unexpected attack. Satisfied, the dolphin gave a flick of its tail, swimming back towards the ruins, where Abe had watched the brief but disabling attack with awe.

The little creature was fading in and out of view; Abe's vision was beginning to blur as the blood loss from his injured leg was taking its toll. He struggled to hold on to the last vestiges of consciousness; the danger was gone, at least temporary as the Each Uisge floated, miserably nursing its injuries, but now he was faced with the daunting prospect of trying to swim back to the surface.

Ever so gently, the dolphin nuzzled his palm. Weakly, Abe laid his hand on its beak again.

"Friend," the dolphin communicated. A memory of a young dolphin, nestled in the middle of its pod. Despite his pain, Abe smiled at the creature's memory. "Safe."

"Thank you, my friend," Abe said. "I need your help once more. I need to get up there." He pointed upward, towards the surface, with a shaking hand. Would the dolphin understand the concept of the water surface? "Up. Outside the water. Sun. Air. Do you understand?"

It understood air; Abe could feel the dolphin's enthusiasm at the concept. It swam against him, gently bumping his body, causing Abe to stiffen from the pain it brought to his bruised ribs, though he gratefully understood the creature's intention. He curled his fingers tightly around the dolphin's dorsal fin; he could feel, instantly, the creature's sense of triumph that Abe had understood its instruction.

The first jar as the dolphin kicked its flippers and began to swim nearly caused him to let go from the breathless pain, but he held on; letting go would mean sinking back down towards the clutches of the Each Uisge.

It was strange, Abe thought, to be slicing through the water under the power of another being. He let himself be pulled along, trying to relax so as not to aggravate his damaged ribs.

His new friend was a quick swimmer, pulling him upward so quickly Abe felt as though he might pass out, but elation kept him conscious, kept him clinging to his saviour's back. He could see the rippling light as they speedily neared the surface, and before Abe could blink the dolphin gently broke the surface of the water, chattering excitedly. His palm twitched against the dolphin's fin and he smiled at the creature's pure joy that they had reached the air.

The ride had left him feeling dizzy and weak, and drawing in a breath through his lungs left his ribs throbbing viciously, though it felt immensely good to be under the sun, where he knew it was safe. Still clinging to the dolphin's dorsal fin, Abe blinked a few times to clear the seawater from his eyes and struggled to look around the surface of the water, thrilled when he spotted their rented boat in the near distance. Hellboy would be on that boat, waiting for him.

He tried to lift a hand to wave, but quickly abandoned the notion. "The boat," Abe communicated, pointing with a shaking finger for good measure. "Do you see it? They are friends. I need to get to that boat. They will help me."

Understanding the instruction, the dolphin swam towards the boat at a gentler pace. The bobbing vessel gradually came into view, revealing a bored Hellboy who quickly brightened and raised a quizzical eyebrow at the sight of Abe paddling towards the boat accompanied by a dolphin. "Hey, Abe!"

Hellboy stood and waved, rocking the tiny fishing boat enough to cause Lawrence, their companion and agent serving as their liaison to the London B.P.R.D. office, to blanch and grip the side.

Abe must have looked as poorly as he felt, as Hellboy's expression quickly darkened from a curious grin to a deep frown of concern as the dolphin brought him to the very edge of the boat. Hellboy precariously crouched down in the swaying boat, extending his hands, both normal and grossly oversized, to help pull his injured friend on board. "Jeez, Abe! You're all banged up."

"The mission turned out to be a bit more dangerous than we expected," Abe said, wincing at the ache in his ribs as Hellboy practically lifted him and then helped him sit on the bottom of the boat. The wound on his leg, now exposed to the air, stung with a renewed vigour.

Despite the pain, Abe smiled; the dolphin, who had so valiantly saved him and brought him to safety, was still splashing around the boat, its head rising above the surface to survey what was being done to his new friend.

"I want to see an ambulance waiting for us when we get back to the dock," Hellboy told Lawrence. The man nodded grimly and scrambled for the satellite radio. Careless with concern, Hellboy pushed and tossed equipment aside until he found the first aid kit they had stashed under the seats.

Abe sucked in a quick breath as a pad of gauze was pressed to his leg, staunching the now-sluggish flow of blood. Hellboy shook his head as he secured the gauze with some medical tape. "Damn, Blue. Those kelpies did a number on you."

"Not kelpies," Abe said, wrapping a hand around his aching chest. "There's an Each Uisge swimming around down there. I never even saw it coming."

"Bloody hell," Lawrence said, hovering over Hellboy's shoulder. "I heard about the Each Uisge. Those monsters are nasty as all can be. You were lucky to get away."

"How did you get back up here?" Hellboy asked.

A splash off the side of the boat made Abe smile. "I had help."

Abe reached out with his arm, just enough to drape it over the edge of the boat. The dolphin immediately swam up to meet him, rising out of the water so that its smooth beak brushed the tips of Abe's fingers.

The connection was instant. So familiar, so comforting, and Abe vowed he would never forget the feeling. "Friend," the dolphin happily declared.

"Friend," Abe answered back through the link. "Be safe now. And thank you."

With a happy chirp, the dolphin swam away, gently breaking the connection as it ducked beneath the water and surfaced again, paddling in the wake of the boat as Lawrence drove them back towards the dock.

"How about that," Hellboy said, watching the playful creature. "You made a new buddy down there?"

"A buddy, yes," Abe said, relaxing against the side of the boat as he watched his companion fade from view. He smiled to himself. A new friend… and a reminder that he was not so alone in this odd world.

End

Thank you for reading!