Chapter Seven: Unbidden Memories

Manning was in a tight spot. Although he had effectively gotten Olivia in the clutches of the BPRD, she hung by a thread. With the nervous breakdown putting all his plans of training and detention back, he had to figure out an easier option. Although stablized in the medical center, Manning had to play his cards very carefully from now on.

The building buzzed like a hive. In between missions, the crew nervously eyed the room in the medical ward containing a stressed, sleeping, Olivia. It had been three days since the breakdown, and her room had been carefully scoured for any clues to her habits, hoping to build a far more stress free environment. As the remaining three agents individually attempted to comfort the sleeping Olivia, the said victim stayed blissfully unconscious. In their own ways, they attempted to ease the raging mind of Olivia.

Liz, using a feminine approach, came daily to brush out the choppy locks around the grooved horns. She was pleased to see the crack healing nicely, soon it would only be a faint line in the horn. Brushing her hair was difficult, it grew wild and messy all over the place. She kept it up every morning, even after having to buy a new brush after a particularly large knot broke the last one. She also took charge of keeping her bathed. It was quite odd to bathe someone with goat legs. She expected to use shampoo on the goat fur too, but it was useless as it repelled the shampoo stubbornly, staying thick and shiny on its own. Plus, Olivia was fairly built. Strings of muscles lined her narrow chest and pulsed from her arms and back. Liz would never mention to Hellboy that it was only slightly impressive, he wouldn't be able to hold back his smirk.

Myers too appealed to a gentler method, going on several occasions to read from interesting history books and mythology, trying to reach into the subconscious and lure Olivia back with dramatic stories. Other times he simple sat there and talked quietly. He hadn't exchanged two word with Olivia, but he found it upsetting that she had suffered like that as a kid. Liz knew it well enough and Abe and Hellboy were already a secret of the government. Myers simply wanted to reach out and understand that foreign pain. In between a busy schedule, he at least managed to drop by for a good look at Olivia with a few encouraging words to spare.

Hellboy, angry at Manning for the unfair treatment to Olivia, had been outright defiant. He let himself be seen in public, disobeyed orders and was overall disrespectful. He even posted up a target board with Manning's face on it. After committing these acts of defiance, he went over and told the comatose Olivia about them. He hoped that it could crack a grin, and mybe even wake her up. Even though it didn't Hellboy found it nice to find someone to brag to. He liked plopping down in the hospital chair next to the bed, proudly boasting as he drank at beer cans. He hoped that at the very least, he would soon see a tiny twitch at the corners of Olivia's mouth. On a good day, he hoped even for a small chuckle.

Abe however was in possession of the most important job.

Under strict orders from Manning, he had normal psychological sessions with Olivia, trying to lure her back into consciousness. Sometimes he recieved fuzzy memories, otherwise, complete silence. Whatever it was Olivia was hiding, she was hiding well. But nonetheless, he continued each day to set a hand upon her sweaty forehead in hopes of finding something...anything...

And Olivia hadmore than enough.

In the deep recess of her mind, she hung, like a marionette forgotten by it's player. Small, fuzzy pictures floated in fragments, like broken pieces of a mirror. She squinted and could see a little more clearly as she leaned closer towards them. Their visions flashed, blurred, and played like a TV and repeated. Flash, blur, play. Flash, blur, play. There may have been a million. She couldn't tell. She never found math useful. She tried moving by swimming towards them like a fish, hooves kicking carefully in the air. She moved. She grasped carefully at one one of the fragments. She fell back and gasped as a memory invaded her vision.

She was seven. It was her birthday. But unlike a normal child, cooing happily by a cake, surrounded by friends, family, and presents, she was in her room screaming angrily as her mother helplessly tried to restrain her.

"Olivia! Olvia please-"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! I hate you!" She kept it up, as her mother tried to push her down into her bed. A small tray of waffles, orange juice, and fruit sat by a bedside table. Olivia was still in her pajamas, a small night dress, light and airy. Her face was red with rage. Her mother gasped and cried out in pain as she fell back. Olivia's hooves had just struck her in the stomach. Unsatisfied with her mother's physical pain, she threw the tray at the wall, food scattering across the floor and juice staining the wallpaper. Her mother's face was white as a sheet as she ran trembling from the room...

"I hate you..."

Olivia was jerked back into the darkness. The memory had disappeared, and she was shocked to hear her own words.

Abe was sitting with a book in hand by Olivia's bed. He hadn't found anything earlier, but thought it safe to monitor her for a while. As his book reached the climactic moment, a tiny groan, pained and angry, slithered from the restrains of Olivia's throat. Abe jumped up at the small noise and saw Olivia's face, twisted and tormented with hidden rage.

"I....huh....haaateee....youuu...." she moaned. She twitched again, and then laid silent. Abe jumped up like he was just zapped before running to tell the others. The words hadn't been good ones, but it was progress from her lying silent as death.

They quickly gathered in her sickroom. She had begun to twitch and shows signs of life. Tiny, almost inaudible murmurs echoed from beyond her lips before dying. Although worried, they were slightly estatic she was regaining ground.

"As soon as she's awake, Manning's getting a good talking to." growled Hellboy. "And a celebratory drink too."

"Don't encourage her to drink, she's underage," scolded Liz, punching him lightly in the shoulder.

"I think she might be reoccuring memories," said Abe, "Since she was in a nervous breakdown, her mind fragmented itself to protect itself. She merely needs to put the pieces back together is all.

"How long will it take?" asked Myers tenatively.

"Not sure. It's several years of memory after all."