I don't always understand

[futures_of_ash]

Who: Rachel and Bruttenholm
When: Some years down the road.
What: Bonding moments!

She slid the clip home and flipped the safety off before firing blindly down the hall.

"Very good," Bruttenholm chuckled. "Better than last time."

"Why do I need to use a gun?" she winced and fired another shot as something mechanical popped out at Bruttenholm.l She was using his eyes, learning to compensate for the shifted perspective.

"Because Hellboy does," he noted.

"That's lame," Rachel snorted. "And a lie."

"Ah, yes, well it used to work," he chuckled.

"And?"

"And?" he paced along, ignoring the trap door that dropped open under him in the training course. He wasn't going to fall after all. "It distances you, Rachel."

"I'm better without distance. You know that." She slapped a new clip home and growled, shifting positions to keep him in clear line of fire as he moved.

"Yes," he agreed. "Physically. Mentally and emotionally? No. You're strong, Rachel. Very strong, but that will be a tool if you others know about it. We can unprogram and raise you and you'll still have risks. I don't want you to be less, Rachel."

"I'm not. I can go on missions. You know I'll be alright." She didn't bother telling him to duck, the blades just melted as they approached his head.

"Yes, and you will," he admitted. "But it isn't about killing everything, Rachel. You have different skills. You can fix damaged barriers. You can tell if a creature is out to hunt us or to live it's own life. You need to listen first and act...later..." he sighed, catching the 'non threatening bystander's' head as Rachel shot it.

"It can't think."

"So?" he noted. "You didn't stop to analyze what you saw, just as I'm sure you wouldn't if set to hunt," he noted. "You fail. Again."

"I HATE GUNS!"

"No, you don't," he chuckled, stepping out the training course to ruffle her hair. "You hate failing. You never failed, did you? But by doing so you became less a person each time. We're reversing that dear. Failure makes you human."

"But I'm not!"

"Closer," he shrugged. "Come on, it's time for lunch."

"No, wait," Rachel growled softly, clicking a new clip home automatically and turning to look over her shoulder.

"Ah, the Colonel," Bruttenholm took the gun and shook his head at the girl before straightening and putting a polite expression on. The girl hadn't taken to the base head here, and he couldn't honestly blame her, but he preferred she wasn't armed when they had to cross paths. "We were just heading for the mess hall, Colonel," he noted as the door opened.

The uniformed man looked at Rachel sharply. pinning the obvious blame for announcing his arrival, then shrugged. "I was just checking in. Hellboy hasn't reported in from his latest mission yet, nor the new one, Abe?"

"I did warn you temporal distortions would likely interfere with communications," Bruttenholm laid his arm across Rachel's shoulders and stepped forward. The Colonel could give ground or get trampled for all he cared. "Keep monitoring, given the research of the group you sent them after I expect there will be communications a few weeks from now. After the boys are home."

"Yes, you mentioned," the Colonel opened the door and held it, nodding politely to the pair before heading deeper into the training ground.

::I don't like him,:: Rachel noted as they left.

"Words, child," Bruttenholm sighed.

"I don't like him. He feels like oil on water. Pretty colors but nothing beneath."

"Ah, it's the McCarthy thinking at work. Look for enemies, foreign and domestic and all. It puts people like him in power."

"Why do you take away my gun when it would be good to use it?!"

"...because you failed, child. You don't know when to use it yet." And that was an important lesson.

"Before or after Project Guardian?"

"Beg your pardon?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I don't look. He was just thinking loud."

"I see. Come, let's see what they're serving." But he didn't like the sound of that at all. No. "Just a thought, child, how long was he nearby?"

"The whole session. He always is," she shrugged, drifting slightly in her eagerness to see what was on the menu.

"Ah."

"You'll find out?"

"Of course. Don't you worry yourself dear."

"I won't," she promised, grabbing them both trays.

"And don't tell the boys if you would. We don't want them doing something foolish."

"...you say that like they wouldn't anyway."

"There's foolish, and then there's foolish."

She glanced at Bruttenholm, trying to figure that one out, but in the end, "you don't make any sense Uncle."

"I know," he chuckled, "but allow an old man his quirks."

"Are they really after Nazis?" she asked in the rapid topic shift common among the young.

"Disbanded scientists who worked under the German Aegis," he corrected easily. "Surprising how deep some of them have hidden even these years later."

"Hellboy won't stop to see the difference," Rachel pointed out cheerfully. "But he can go on missions!"

"He...utilizes a far different approach than you dear. And there's a team on hand to sit on him if necessary."

"...ah?"

"I don't think sitting on you would work half as well because you're less distracted by uniform skirt lengths," he sighed. Boys. It was...that age it seemed.

"...you're probably right."

"Yes, well, this would be why I'm the guardian," he chuckled. "Don't forget the pudding dear, Hellboy will want to know if the new supply is any good."

Shrugging, and distracted for the moment, Rachel complied with settling desserts on their trays alongside the meal. Bruttenholm though, he was troubled, though he tried not to think too loudly about the fact.