Chapter 14 (2/2)
No.
Suddenly, Dan found that thought intolerable. There had to be something he could do, somewhere he could actually contribute, even if it was only a little. He was tired of just sitting back and doing nothing. It was time to act.
”I'll try to get a license, then,” he decided firmly.
”That's a great idea! Teleporters are really hard to come by.” Abby's exclaimed, but her enthusiasm faded quickly.
She grimaced. ”I'd offer to join, but my upgrade is worthless at search and rescue.”
”They turn you away if you don't have the right upgrade?” Dan asked, slightly perturbed.
She shrugged. ”Sort of? I might be able to get a license but I wouldn't be much use practically speaking.”
”What is your upgrade, if you don't mind me asking?”
”Proprioception Pro,” Abby replied quietly, rubbing Merrill's belly.
Dan rolled the name around in his head.
”That sounds like a Pokemon,” he decided, trying to inject some levity into the room.
”What?”
”What?”
They stared at each other for a moment. Abigail broke first.
”My upgrade: it's called Proprioception Pro,” she repeated with a hint of confusion in her voice.
”I have no idea what that is,” Dan admitted.
”Proprioception is your, uh, body sense I guess,” Abby said haltingly, mulling over her response. ”It's how you know where all your bits are, relative to the rest of your body, and how much strain you are putting on them.”
”Oh. Neat.”
”It's very neat,” Abby said, regaining some cheer. ”Also, necessary. What P-Pro does, though, is it allows me to access someone else's proprioception by touching them. It let's me know the difference between you wimping out and actually being exhausted.”
Dan blinked, slowly. His head fell back onto his seat. ”Goddamnit.”
”Yup.” Abby's tone had a hint of smugness.
”Why would anyone design a power so specific?” Dan lamented.
Abby gave a dignified sniff. ”It's extremely useful for people in healthcare. Most nurses use it, and some doctor's as well. Knowing the state of your patient is invaluable, and we haven't yet invented a way to beam that information into someone's head.”
Dan sighed. They had gotten off track, somehow. He should be in shock at the moment, having just watched a fairly explicit video of a city block on fire. Maybe he was in shock, him and Abby both, and this was just an easy diversion. Or maybe this whole situation was just too surreal for him to process. Maybe he was still just too disconnected from this world, this place that wasn't his.
Merrill hopped over to him and snuggled onto his knee, shattering his mopey thoughts. He glanced towards Abby, only to see her focused on the television. The sound was still muted, but subtitles scrolled along the bottom at great speed. The news caster from the helicopter had returned, and was looking slightly cooked.
A few tiny stress lines appeared on Abby's eyes as she read; little crinkles, nearly unnoticeable, but they meant the world to Dan. She wasn't as dissociated from the tragedy as she was pretending to be. It comforted him to realize that.
”So your power isn't useful for search and rescue. What about first aid?” he asked, breaking the silence. Abby enjoyed helping others. Maybe he could find her a role.
She jumped slightly. ”What?”
Dan pointed at the television. ”First aid. You said that you'd volunteer if you could be useful. I'm sure there's some way for your power to help people who are injured, right?”
”I, uh,” Abby floundered for a moment and Dan realized that he might have misjudged the situation. ”It's just— I'm technically not certified for first-aid, so I can't act as a medic, and my power isn't good for much else.”
”You don't have first-aid training?” Dan blurted out incredulously. Sure, he didn't either, but he wasn't a personal trainer.
Abby shrunk in on herself.
”Blood makes me uncomfortable,” she admitted weakly.
Dan opened his mouth, then shut it, slowly. He shrugged helplessly. ”Ah.”
Dan didn't try to press the issue. The teaspoon's worth of tact that he possessed screamed at him to shut up. This was clearly none of his business.
”It's good that you're trying to help, though,” Abby repeated. She tried for an encouraging smile, but it came out slow and timid.
He smiled back anyway, puffing out his chest dramatically. ”I guess I'm just a really swell guy.”
She snorted slightly, but still appeared glum.
So Dan chucked Merrill at her. The mouse landed on her head, and Abby fell back with a yelp. Merrill worked her magic, squeaking cutely while wriggling in place, and infused fluffy joy directly into Abby's brain. The girl giggled, then smiled, then laughed.
Dan considered it a win.
Tonight, he could interrogate Mercury about the horrific details of this world. Tomorrow, he could volunteer for search and rescue training.
For now, he had a friend to comfort.