Author's Note: For those of you who have read my other fics, you'll know that I like to mix up my perceptions of established characters with outside characters of my own creation. This story is no different. It is, however, my first stab at a Hellboy fic. As always, feedback is welcome and encouraged. This is loosely based on the first movie, with a few changes that will become apparent fairly quickly. Later, if all goes well, it will be clear why it's in the "Mature" section. I don't own Hellboy or anything from that universe. Enjoy!

psyche b.

Finding Home

1. Introductions

Bethany hated the city. It was too big, too loud and there were too many people in it. She wouldn't have been there at all if Dr. Parrish hadn't insisted on meeting with her in his lab and paid for her trip. Her father would have flatly refused. Her father hadn't been around for the latest incident though. She wanted someone to tell her how to get rid of it, once and for all. After her father's death nearly a year before, she had found the letter Dr. Parrish sent a few weeks after the first incident hit the papers. Bethany had been six then, she'd had no idea the letter even existed. She didn't know why her father had kept it, but was the only lead she had. She had taken a chance and written back.

"Here we are, Lady." The cabdriver broke her out of her reverie. She paid him and got out in front of a nondescript building that was part of a larger hospital complex. Simon Parrish was the only name on the door. She took a deep breath and walked in. The entry was decorated in warm pinks and soft sand tones. A receptionist sat behind a semicircular desk.

"I'm-"

"Miss Allen." The older woman finished. Her smile had a soothing professionalism about it. "Dr. Parrish is expecting you. If you'll follow me, please." She smiled again. Bethany had the urge to run back out the same way she came in, but she followed obediently. She was going to have to trust him with a lot more than just her name. The receptionist led her into a perfectly ordinary looking office. She assumed the rumpled, older man seated behind the desk was Dr. Parrish.

"Welcome Miss, Allen." He got up and took her hand. "I'm so pleased to finally meet you." His warm smile looked genuine enough. He indicated she should sit in one of the armchairs in front of his desk. He sat in the other one.

"Pleased to meet you too." Bethany answered. It was the right response, not an honest response. Her stomach had been tied in knots for most of the day.

"How was your trip from Bluffton?" He was watching her closely. Bluffton was – in a word - a bluff. There really was a place called Bluffton, but she had never been there. Incoming and outgoing mail was rerouted several times until it appeared that it originated in that town. "Quite a distance from New York City, isn't it?"

"It wasn't too bad. It's certainly a culture shift though." She managed an insincere smile.

"I would imagine. Bluffton has a population of what, two hundred or so people?" He was testing her, and Bethany knew it.

"Closer to four thousand, actually." She'd memorized all the salient points before coming. Her father would have insisted. She thought she caught a flicker of his eyes narrowing. Then he smiled.

"Of course, my information must be outdated." He smiled, Bethany smiled back. "So you've come for my help with your-"

"Problem." Bethany supplied.

"Problem." Another of those insincere smiles. "Well, there are a number of things we can do to help you control it and direct it-"

"No. I want it gone." She said firmly.

"Gone?" He looked at her curiously.

"As in, not there anymore." Bethany knew he would hear the sarcasm in her voice, but she didn't care.

"I hadn't expected that." He looked at her for a moment. "Well, in any case I need to gauge the level of your abilities and run a few standard tests. You will consent to giving me a blood sample?"

"Sure." She sighed. She couldn't think of a good reason to refuse. He pressed a button on his phone and the receptionist appeared with a stainless steel tray. When she set it down, Bethany could see needles and tubes for blood. There was also a syringe with what she assumed was medication already in it. The receptionist left again and Bethany rolled up her right sleeve. Dr. Parrish pulled on a pair of gloves, then cleaned the crook of her arm with alcohol. He picked up the prepared syringe.

"What is that?" She asked, eying him suspiciously.

"Just a little something to numb the skin. It'll wear off in fifteen minutes or so." Bethany knew she should have moved. The small needle quickly pierced her skin and the vein underneath. Before all the medication had even entered her body she found she couldn't move and her consciousness was fading fast.

"I'm sorry, Miss Allen." Dr. Parrish said. "I promise, you will not be harmed." The last thing Bethany saw was two men in dark suits wheeling a stretcher into the room.

Bethany fought toward consciousness for what seemed like eternity. The biting smell of antiseptic on metal was the first thing to break through the drug haze. She found it impossible to concentrate on it though, and she slipped beneath the surface again. She wasn't able to tell how long she was unconscious again. The next time she woke, she felt painful pressure against her hip. She forced herself to move more onto her back. When she did, she found herself resting against a wall. This time though, the drugs were receding. She still had no sense of time, but she knew she was waking up.

When she opened her eyes she found herself in what was, for all intents and purposes, a stainless steel box. She sat up slowly and felt her head swim. It took Bethany a minute to focus her eyes enough to pick out the outline of a door. There was a toilet and sink combination, a shower and the bench she was laying on, nothing else. As the world came into focus, she realized that everything seemed to be made in one piece. Either that, or it was all fused together almost seamlessly. The only things that weren't quite seamless was a vent in the upper right corner of the room, and several indentations in the floor. The floor didn't seem important, but the vent didn't fit, and that bothered her. There was something else too. A humming vibration that she could feel inside her head. It seemed to dull the rest of the world in a way.

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid." She mumbled as she tested her legs. She used the edge of the sink to pull herself to her feet. She held on tightly as the world spun around her several times. Eventually it settled again and she padded slowly around the room in her socks. Apparently, someone hadn't trusted her with her shoes. At least she still had the rest of her clothes. She counted that small plus in a whole heap of minuses. She walked around her small steel world four times before sitting down again. The blood was flowing again and some of the disconnectedness of the drug was fading. That humming was still there though. She turned on the water in the sink and tentatively drank, trying to dispel the cottony feeling from her mouth. She knew that was probably the drugs. She sat down and rubbed her temples, trying to look at this logically.

Obviously she was being watched. Since there was no glass of any kind, it seemed reasonable to think that there was a camera in the vent. She doubted this was a mental hospital. It seemed like it would be too easy for someone to injure themselves in here. That left a prison. Of course, she still didn't know where she was, or who was holding her. She had no idea how long she'd been unconscious either.

"Great Beth, brilliant deduction. You're being held somewhere, but you don't know where; by someone, but you don't know who; for some reason you haven't yet been able to determine. You're a regular Sherlock Holmes in a dress." That part about the 'why' being unknown wasn't entirely true. If Dr. Parrish was involved she had some idea of why she might be held. She tried not to think about it.

She leaned back against the steel wall. Her anxiety level was rising, despite the drugs that were still in her system. Bethany knew she had to get that under control or else she wouldn't be able to focus. She was still sleepy, but going back to sleep seemed like a bad idea. She rocked, her head and shoulders thumping lightly on the wall. It wasn't enough to hurt, it was just enough to keep her awake.

"Miss Allen?" She wasn't sure how much time had passed before she heard the voice. She had closed her eyes though, so it could have been minutes or hours. She remained silent. It could have been her imagination. God only knew what she had been given. "Miss Allen, I know you're awake. I'm sure you know you're being observed. If you answer, I'll hear you as well."

"Who is that?" Her voice was laden with suspicion. The humming seemed to be keeping her mind unnaturally quiet. The one time her ability would have been useful and she didn't have it.

"I'm Professor Trevor Bruttenholm. I'd like to speak to you in person, but first I need your assurance that you'll behave yourself." The voice sounded non-threatening.

"Will you behave yourself?" She asked.

"I've no desire to harm you, I'd just like to ask you a few questions. If you can't be trusted though, I will have you physically restrained. Undoubtedly you can feel the disruption of your other abilities."

"Great." She sighed. "I'm not going to do anything." For a moment there was silence, then she heard a soft whirring sound. The door swung open slowly. She could see the thickness of the door, and of the steel bolts that presumably held it shut. Wherever she was, they must have thought she was dangerous. Two men entered and stood in front of her, making it clear that escape wasn't possible. A third man brought in a chair and bolted it to the floor in the indentations. Finally, a neatly dressed older man entered and sat. The other three left and the locks whirred into place once again. Bethany sat cross-legged on the metal bench and looked at her 'guest'.

"I'd offer you something, but I wasn't expecting company." Sarcasm had always been a favorite defense mechanism of hers. The professor just smiled.

"A quick wit, I shouldn't be surprised by that."

"Why is that?" Bethany was genuinely curious.

"Your father could have quite a sharp tongue, himself." He smiled benignly, and some of Bethany's anxiety dissipated. Her curiosity was growing though.

"You knew him?" She leaned forward a little, but made no move to get up. The professor didn't flinch.

"I saw him speak once. It was one of his last lectures before your mother's death."

"Where am I?" Bethany's eyes narrowed, and she tried to keep the panic out of her voice. Her father, Benton, had been a renowned researcher in the field of parapsychology. The fact that this professor had seen him made Bethany even more nervous.

"A holding cell at the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense. I'm sorry it's so uncomfortable, but the options are rather limited so early on." He looked genuinely sorry. Bethany shook her head and looked away.

"I should have known not to trust Parrish." She said.

"Dr. Parrish was working for us, yes." The professor nodded. "I was surprised you contacted him. Your father didn't object?"

"My father died nearly a year ago." It still hurt to say the words.

"I'm so sorry for you loss. I had no idea." Again, she believed he was sorry. "Was he ill?"

"Thanks." A smile flickered across her lips. "No, it was a heart attack I managed to get him to the hospital, but they weren't able to do anything for him."

"How did you find Dr. Parrish?" He asked.

"He had written to my father after my mother's death, and my father kept the letter. I don't know why he kept it. I found it when I was going through some of his things that had been in a box for years, he might have just forgotten about it." Just saying it out loud made her feel stupid all over again.

"How old were you when your mother died?" He asked. Bethany's eyes narrowed.

"You know all this already." She said.

"Miss Allen-"

"Don't you?" It came out as a hard accusation.

"I know what's in the record. No one has any idea of what your story is. You and your father disappeared, so there was no one to ask." His voice and demeanor remained perfectly calm.

"We disappeared because he was afraid something like this was going to happen." Her tone had quieted again. "He was only trying to protect me."

"I can understand that impulse." He was silent, waiting for her to answer the question.

"I was six. I don't really remember much, other than she was sick and then she was gone. I didn't understand why, I just wanted her back." Bethany pulled her knees into her chest and hugged them. She wasn't looking at him.

"What happened at the funeral?"

"We buried her." Bethany answered quickly.

"What else?" He was undeterred. Bethany took a deep breath but couldn't quite put it to words. She opened her mouth to start. "Miss Allen-"

"You're asking about things I've never said out loud in my whole life. You might as well call me Bethany."

He nodded, and waited.

"I nearly killed my Aunt." She said softly.

"How?" He pressed.

"I don't know." Bethany sighed and looked at her knees. "I remember that Daddy was pretty much a wreck, so my Aunt Karin took charge of me to make things easier on him. I don't remember much about the actual day, except that she kept telling me how selfish it was for me to cry. She kept grabbing me by the shoulder and shaking me, I just wanted her to shut up. I remember NEEDING her to stop, it just filled my mind in way I can't really describe. That's when she started choking. Everyone could see an indentation like something was pressing against her throat, but there was nothing there. Daddy managed to stop me before I killed her."

There were tears in Bethany's eyes as the horrible details came rushing back. She could smell the raw earth and the sickly sweet smell of the flowers and her aunt's perfume. She remembered the ache in her heart and how natural it was to simply focus her energy on stopping one of the sources of that ache. She wasn't ready to talk about any of that.

"How did he know it was you?" The professor's tone hadn't changed.

"I guess things happened when I was younger. I don't remember them, but he told me that things I wanted had a way of making their way to me without anyone's help. If I didn't like someone, I had a way of keeping them from touching me. He never really went into detail and I never really asked." Bethany shifted to her cross-legged position again. This time, her elbows rested on her knees, her head rested in her hands.

"Anyway, there was a police investigation and someone who had been at the funeral went to the paper. There were reporters camped outside the house, when we did leave we were mobbed." Bethany remembered strangers swarming at her from all directions. They only managed to get to her once, that drew even more people. "We left soon after that. I don't remember how Daddy got past the crowds. It was the middle of the night and I was asleep. I woke up in a car."

"A car? Not his car?"

Bethany looked up at the professor and smiled.

"Daddy was resourceful." He smiled back.

"You didn't mind leaving?"

"Yes, I minded. I left all my friends, most of my things, most of the physical things that were my mother's. He explained that if we had stayed, he was afraid of losing me to, well, somewhere like this. Besides, I was six. It's not like it could move out." She sighed. "Do you have my purse?"

"The things you came in with are safe. Why?"

"I was carrying my mother's compact. It's one of the few things I have left of hers." Bethany could remember her mother taking the gold scallop shell everywhere she went, even though she never recalled her mother actually using it.

"I'll see that it gets back to you. Tell me how you and your father were able to disappear so completely."

Bethany was almost getting used to talking about it.

"He called it 'going off-paper'. He changed ID's several times and then dropped official ID all together. I never had one. He worked under the table, when I got to be old enough, I did too. We moved often and he home-schooled me. We had no bank accounts, no credit cards, didn't pay taxes, nothing that would leave a paper trail."

"That must have been difficult in the modern world."

"I guess." She shrugged. "To me, it was just life. What is that humming?"

"Do you hear it, or feel it?" The professor looked at her closely. Bethany had to think about it for a minute.

"I feel it, I think. I'm not really sure, everything seems-" She thought for minute. "Flat. I thought it was the drugs at first, but it doesn't feel the same as the fog I work up in."

"For the moment, we're disrupting your psychokinetic abilities mechanically. It won't injure or impair the rest of your brain function."

"Can you bottle it or something? I've been trying to figure out a way to disrupt it for awhile." He smiled.

"You father didn't teach you to direct your abilities?" He moved for the first time. He shifted in the chair and crossed his legs the other way.

"He tried." She looked away. "I guess I wasn't always the best student when it came to that. Will anyone rush in here and shoot me if I get up and get a drink of water?"

"No. Thirst is a side effect of the drugs, I'm afraid."

Bethany bit back the sarcastic remark that formed on her lips and drank some more from the sink, using her hand for a makeshift cup. She sat back down again.

"Do you know anything about the BPRD?"

"Other than you have an interesting way of inviting someone to have a conversation, not really." The words were out before Bethany could stop them. The professor chuckled softly.

"I suppose I deserved that." He took his glasses off and wiped them with his handkerchief. He replaced them and began again. "The BPRD is a governmental agency based in America that defends the country and the world from occult, paranormal and supernatural threats through the talents and skills of unique individuals. You are one of those unique individuals."

"But I have to learn to use my abilities." She crossed her arms and looked at him.

"I have the feeling you use them quite well already, you need to learn to direct them more consciously."

Bethany thumped her head against the wall again. Even the short time she had spent without it had showed her that the world didn't feel right without the added dimension.

"So, until I figure that out I sit alone in a metal box?" She asked.

"Certainly not." He shook his head. "This is only temporary. Some of the individuals that are brought here are not nearly so well-behaved as you are. I'll return soon." He got up. Bethany wasn't excited to be left alone in there again.

The mechanics whirred and the men entered again. Bethany didn't look at either one of them. When the door was shut, the hum stopped as well. That was a relief anyway. She lay down on the bench and tried to make herself comfortable. For once, she was glad not to be taller. She was able to stretch out at least. Despite the drugs, or perhaps because of them, she felt herself getting sleepy.

Bethany must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew the professor was shaking her shoulder gently. There was a man and a woman standing behind him.

"Bethany, I have a couple of people I would like you to meet." She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Sorry. What time is it?" She got up and looked at the two new people.

"After eleven at night. You've had a long day, so I'll keep the rest of the introductions for tomorrow. This is Tom Manning, he's in charge of the FBI component of the BPRD."

"FBI?" Her heart started to beat faster.

"An arm of the FBI works jointly with the BPRD." Manning explained. For whatever reason, Bethany's first impression was one of mild dislike. It could have been the unpleasant cigar smell that lingered around him. Her father enjoyed a good cigar too, but Manning's smelled old somehow. "This is special agent Ellen Davis. She'll be your liaison."

"If you'll come with me, I'll show you to your room, Miss Allen."

"Bethany." She followed the agent out of the room. The two men followed behind. "What's a liaison do anyway?"

"Mostly, I make sure you have what you need." The stepped into an elevator.

"You're my keeper?" She asked, here eyes narrowed.

"Not exactly." Agent Davis led her down a hall to a comfortable room. There were no windows, but other than that, it was much like a comfortable hotel room. She noticed her battered old suitcases in the corner, as well as several cardboard boxes. "Your things were all moved here."

"Pretty damn sure of yourselves, weren't you?" She looked past Agent Davis's shoulder to Manning and the professor.

"I'm an optimist, Bethany." The professor answered. She found that she had a hard time staying angry at him. He probably knew that. "Get some rest. We'll speak again in the morning."

Agent Davis gave her a brief tour of the suite, asked if she needed anything and then left her alone. Bethany showered and changed into an old t-shirt before getting into bed. Even though it was a strange room, she fell asleep quickly.

"So what's she like?" Hellboy's eyes were on one of the television screens. He scratched one of the cats absently with a stone finger. The animal purred, it's eyes closed. The tip of his tail twitched, betraying his curiosity.

"Who?" Myers picked up some of the scattered clothing.

"The new one." He answered. His eyes darted to another screen. "Can't remember her name."

"Oh, I don't know. I haven't seen her yet. Davis said she's kind of a smartass."

"We got one of those already."

"Yeah, but this one is good-looking. Had enough?" He looked at the breakfast cart. All that was left were crumbs. He didn't think he'd ever get used to Red's appetite.

"For a little while." Myers knew it would be only a very little while. "Thought you said you hadn't seen her."

"I haven't. That's the rumor though. Remember, the professor is expecting you in the library in an hour or so."

"Yeah, yeah." He heard Myers let himself out. He wasn't sure how he felt about meeting this new one. Father said she was some kind of a big deal, but that didn't mean she was going to stay. He didn't like losing people after he had gotten used to them being around.

Liz was more than just someone he had gotten used to though. Her decision to leave for good tore him up in a way he hadn't experienced before, and he had started to look at everyone as a potential loss. He was still curious, though.

Davis – Bethany had already made the mistake of calling her Ellen and was rewarded with a cold stare - brought Bethany breakfast at a little after nine. They chatted a little as Bethany ate, but mostly she got the impression that Davis wasn't really comfortable around her. She supposed she was used to that from people who knew, but it still hurt. She had learned not to let it show. She ate one of the eggs and one slice of toast. The coffee was the most welcome part of the meal. Before, coffee had been a luxury, there were weeks that went by when she didn't have any. She savored this cup.

When she was finished, Davis left her alone with assurances that she would be back soon. Bethany organized her few things, and tried to do something better with her hair. Her clothing options were limited. Whoever she was supposed to meet was going to have to just accept her in jeans and a sweatshirt. At least they were a clean. She tried her reddish hair a couple of different ways, but decided to pull half of it back in a barrette. Her father always liked it that way. She picked up her lip gloss and decided against it. That would look like she was trying too hard.

Bethany was thinking about turning on the television just to fill some time when Davis came back. The agent told her they were going to the professor's library but didn't say a word after that. Bethany simply took everything in, making a map in her mind and trying to imagine what this library would look like. The professor didn't look like he would favor the modern and antiseptic, but she wasn't prepared for the comfortable room lined in ancient tomes.

Davis left her at the door, but Bethany didn't care. Her curiosity had been kindled. She walked in and started scanning the shelves. She recognized a few of the titles as books her father had owned at one time or another.

"Good morning." The softly accented voice caught her off guard. Had she missed someone? She didn't think she had seen anyone in the room and it wasn't a voice she recognized. She turned slowly and blinked. In a tank of water on the other side of the room, what appeared to me a bluish merman was watching her. Even though he wasn't smiling, the way he looked at her seemed to represent pleasant interest.

"Um, hi." She took a hesitant step closer and tried not to stare. "I-I was looking for the professor."

"His meeting with Manning undoubtedly ran late. I'm Abraham Sapien, but everyone calls me Abe. Will you turn the pages, please?" He gestured gracefully to the four open books on stands in front of the glass. Her curiosity was getting the better of her.

"You read four at once?" She moved down the row of books, turning pages. She noted they weren't even all in the same language. The motion gave her time to wrap her mind around what she was seeing.

"One of my talents. You must be Bethany Allen." His voice was soothing in a way. It almost made her forget the strangeness of the situation.

"Yes, sorry." She felt herself blush. "I guess my manners are still a little overwhelmed."

"It's understandable. Your arrival was traumatic." He nodded. "I've read your father's work, you know."

"You have?" Her father rarely mentioned his work in any detail to Bethany. Contradictory as it was, she found herself hungry for tidbits about that part of his life.

"Oh yes. Few who don't possess it can equal his insight into the subject of psychic ability." Abe cocked his head and looked at her. "You lost him recently, didn't you?"

"A year ago." Bethany was instantly guarded again. She backed off a couple of steps, her arms crossed.

"I'm sorry for your loss, and for surprising you." Again, that genuine tone. Everyone here seemed to have it.

"Pardon me for being late, I see you've met Abe." The professor came in carrying a plain manila folder. He filed it and opened a jar, an unmistakable stench assaulted Bethany's senses. "You'll excuse the smell, rotten eggs are a favorite of his." The professor placed two in a tube and pulled a lever. They appeared in the tank a moment later. The merman happily ate both of them. Bethany decided she would have oatmeal for breakfast in the morning from now on, if she had a choice.

"Okay." Bethany wasn't sure how else to respond to that.

"I'm afraid I startled Miss Allen, I assumed you had told her." Abe said to the professor.

"It's Bethany." She said to Abe. "Told me what?" She asked the professor.

"Abe is quite psychic as well, though his abilities are somewhat different than yours. I think he would be the best one to help you to learn to use your abilities in a more conscious way." The professor gestured for her to sit.

"Alright, and then what?" She sat on the sofa. Refusing at this point didn't seem like a viable option, she might as well know the whole story.

"Then you'll join us in neutralizing threats, but not until you've had physical training as well as Abe's assistance. I'm having Agent Davis arrange that for you. Has she given you a tour?" He asked.

"You mean getting here wasn't the tour?" She had a feeling it wasn't, but the thought of whatever he meant by 'neutralizing threats' kept spinning in her head.

"No." The professor chuckled. "The facility is quite large. I'll make certain you get to see all of it."

"Does she think I'm dangerous?" Bethany asked. The professor's eyebrows drew together.

"She's just getting adjusted herself. I think she isn't yet used to certain realities. You'll win her over."

"Yeah, me and my sparkling personality." Bethany sighed and started to wonder if they would let her out of here if she wanted to go. It was a tough existence, but least she knew how to manage out there. "So when do I start all this?"

"Not until I've made one more introduction." The professor said. It was clear he was being evasive. The problem was, she was almost afraid to ask him to be more specific. The fish-guy – nice as he was – was about enough for one day. "Though I confess, he was supposed to be here by now."

"Who is it?" Bethany's curiosity got the better of her.

"Another member of our little group." The professor supplied. "If you'll excuse me, I'll see what's keeping him." The professor moved to a phone on the other side of the room. Bethany got up and started scanning the titles of some of the books again. Aside from the fact that she was too nervous to be still, the books fascinated her. She wondered if she would be allowed to read any of them, or attempt to as the case may be. The smell of cigar smoke drew her attention first.

"There you are." The professor said. When he saw the cigar he clucked his tongue and brought an ashtray. "Really, at this hour of morning." He scolded mildly. The enormous red creature actually looked chagrined and put out what remained of the cigar.

"It's the first one I've had today." He said. The professor gave the new arrival a look, but didn't say any more about it. "Is that her?" He looked at Bethany for the first time.

"Yes." The professor said. They both watched Bethany like she was a specimen under glass. Despite her shock, Bethany was offended by that. "This Bethany Allen. Bethany, this is Hellboy."

"Nice to-" She started.

"She doesn't look like much." He said to the professor.

"SHE is in the room." Bethany fixed a direct gaze on the red creature's yellow eyes. He walked closer and Bethany stood her ground. For what seemed like forever they simply stared at each other. His tail swished from side to side as she appraised her. Bethany's heart pounded in her ears.

"Bethany, huh?" His baritone voice rumbled, a little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Bethany couldn't help but smile a little herself. "I heard you were a smartass." There was a definite twinkle in his eyes under the heavy brow.

"Funny, I hadn't heard anything about you." She smiled a little too. The tension of a few minutes before had dissipated entirely.

"I'm indescribable." He smiled a little more and dropped down into one of the larger chairs. He looked at the professor. "You told her we kill monsters, right?"

"Monsters?" She asked, working very hard to keep most of the panic out of her voice. "That's an exaggeration, right?"

"Nah. Somethin' big and ugly needs killing, we get the call." He said.

"I don't think that's that best way to say it." The professor said, noting Bethany's reaction.

"Is that the honest way to say it?" Despite her best efforts, panic was seeping into her voice.

"Well, part of your job will be to assist with major threats, yes, but-" The professor started.

"But nothing! This is a profoundly bad idea." She could feel tension building in her head and she started to pace, trying to dispel it.

"Bethany-" She didn't give him a chance to finish.

"Look at me! I'm five foot one and on a good day, after a big meal I can just about make a hundred and five pounds." She pointed at the lounging demon. "He can handle a major threat, I'd be an appetizer. Crappy as it is, I'm kind of attached to my life." Books began to rattle on the shelves. The professor and the demon looked at each other.

"Bethany, turn the pages please." Abe said. She hadn't been aware that he was watching her.

"Now?" She asked.

"Yes, now." Bethany rolled her eyes, but took a step toward the opposite side of the room.

"No. From there." He said.

"But-"

"You can feel it gathered already, direct it." His voice was calm, but firm. Bethany was aware that all eyes in the room were on her. She turned her face away from all of them and tried to do what Abe said. The first page was the hardest, but after she managed it, things stopped rattling. The feeling of what she did stayed with her and it was easier to move the second page. She grew more confident and calmer with the third. By the fourth, the majority of the gathered tension was gone.

"Thank you. Now turn them back again, please, So I can finish them." Bethany looked at him but said nothing. It took more effort because most of her emotional energy was gone already, but she did feel where she was drawing the energy from.

"I was right." The professor was smiling when she turned around. Even the red guy looked half-way interested.

"Fabulous. If any majorly threatening books show up I can leaf them into submission." She sat down and rubbed her temples. It was all too much to take in.