Alright, so I've decided to make a Hellboy fanfic. Yes, I plan on pairing Hellboy with my oc... if I can't have him in real life then I will make it happen in fanfic life.

As if that makes sense.

This will be mainly based on the animated Hellboy series, though I'll probably drop references from the comics or the movies. Most likely, on accident.

Everything belongs to their rightful owners; I own my characters and THAT IS IT. As much as I wish Dark Horse comics would release Hellboy to me, I just don't see it happening.

Chapter One: Introduction

Even today I can still see the trees twisted branches reaching to the sky, swaying lightly as the frigid wind pushed through them. The emptiness my 'pack', or family, left me still cuts me like a knife. The pain on the soles of my feet, thankfully, as long been forgotten. The grass in the forest was dead and crisp, and no matter what I did there would always be a faint crunch as I stepped on their corpses. I cannot recall how or why I was alone, I don't even know if my so called pack left me or if I stranded away accidently.

Unable to piece together my puzzle hurts far more than my blistered feet and chilled skin.

The sky was grey and the air was freezing. Not that the temperature affected me much. Lycanthropes tend to adapt rather well to the climate, especially if you're a coyote lycanthrope.

Like me.

This coyote was found by a local police officer who was driving home from work. He was a nice man, had good intentions. Unfortunately he handed me over to a small town's orphanage in the state of Idaho. The town itself was lovely. Antique buildings of brick lined up the streets, gorgeous scenery... it's just the people that were the problem. They weren't so friendly. They were just a little too into their lord and feared the unknown.

For an orphanage, it was pretty good. It had food, shelter, polite indifference, and plenty of other kids to play with. All the needs of an eight year old were fulfilled and each child was taken care of.

Well unless that child was different, which I certainly was.

I stood out. My behavior, my looks, my habits weren't normal. I could easily blend into a city, because at least I wouldn't be the only weirdo there. But I wasn't in the city. I was in super religious, close minded little town that barely made the cut to be placed on the map. If my unnaturally tan skin and wild tawny hair got enough attention, then my bright orange eyes were defiantly getting noticed.

Shape shifters have a knack for having some sort of clue of what they are, a warning, if you will, to humans that they encounter. Actually, most unnatural creatures do. Mine were my eyes, which didn't even belong on a normal coyote. Not that I'm complaining, they are quite pretty once you get used to them.

Or so I'm told.

Thanks to my heightened senses, I would hear the townsfolk mutter from afar of how I had hell's fire buried within my eyes, just waiting to damn them all. How imaginative. That could be why people tried to stay away from me and why I had so few playmates.

I was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Or would it be a coyote in a monkey suit? Either way, the coyote had more to fear than the monkeys. Strength in numbers and all that. Quantity over quality I guess... Though, I highly doubt an eight year old girl, even if a shape shifter could've done much.

Now, as a shape shifter, I can change whenever I please. Unlike werewolves, lycans turn into an enhanced version of their animal. If it helps, picture that animal but on steroids. Lots of steroids. The only exception is the new moon; no shape shifter can change then. Oh, but it gets worse. That day is kind of like PMS, with all those beautiful symptoms of mood swings, cramps, nausea, ect. Our special day is filled with all that but multiple the pain and angst. Plus, the women always have their period that day! No matter what. I thought I was literally dying when I got my first period...

Now there is one day that, no matter what, a lycan must change. It's rather obvious which day that is. That's right, the full moon! I had no pack to guide me on these things throughout my life. I had to expect the unexpected. Thankfully I managed to sneak away with the change on those full moons.

Until a damn nun caught me on my third moon.

To say I hate nuns would be an understatement. Sure I bet there are lots of nice nuns out in the world. I have yet to meet one. All screeching, hand smacking, tight lipped, close-minded wenches all tied to one God. God doesn't like abominations. Apparently that includes me.

Those that knew about me were scared. I could smell it. Fear poured out of their flesh in waves. You know what happens when somebody is scared? They try to control it, use it, or destroy it. They tried to destroy me first.

Now remember, this town was run by their church so naturally I was given an exorcism. Not your typical holy water tossing and bible waving one either. My back was branded with a hot poker in the shape of a cross. It was crude for it was roughly put together for me. Once they realized that didn't work because my eyes still glowed 'devilishly', whatever that means, they decided to tie me with rope to the pipes in the basement. Their horrible damned beast-child was put there to rot.

I could've just changed into a coyote pup and slip through the ropes but I was too weak. I believe the saying is 'a beating a day keeps the shape shift away'. No? Could've sworn...

Don't worry, the next full moon made me change and thus I escaped. Battered and bruised, I crawled up the creaky stairs and located the front door. I could taste the forest even from there, the scent of freedom upon my snout. Alas I went to the front door and was almost instantly discovered by an old playmate. Her screams alerted those in charge who promptly showed up to drag me back to my chamber. I fought as hard as I could, even bit the fool who touched the brand which was red and swollen still, but it wasn't enough. There was too many and I was too young.

On account of my so called great escape, they try chain next thinking that rope wasn't good enough. Not like it mattered. Couldn't do anything against the rope while human, why upgrade to metal chains? There was never another chance to escape, they finally learned just to shove me into a cage before the full moon.

I have no idea how much time went by, but the moon told me I went through at least two months. Barely given food or water, I slowly melted away. In a dirty secret rotting in the basement of a musky old orphanage. My life was something that Poe might write about.

One day we had unwanted guests, and they changed all that.

There were heavy thunks from above along with shuffles and muffled shouts of protest. I rose my head up slightly; a series of pops ran along my neck from the unfamiliar motion. Cold and filthy, a nice layer of dust lined my clothes. The only reason why I haven't died from pneumonia or some other sickness would be thanks to my lycanthropy.

Suddenly there was a brief silence followed by an uproar. Things like 'The Devil himself!' or 'Demon!' could be heard. The shuffling increased but there was a distinct stomping from someone heavy, who sighed heavily in frustration. A man yelled, "Stop throwing holy water on me, dammit! I'm only here to exterminate your monster, you ungrateful bastards!" then he muttered, "Idiots... just trying to do my damn job..."

My blood ran cold as that same man stomped his way down the stairs. Primal instincts running at a high, I desperately started struggling as I fought for my survival. I may have been rotting in a basement but at least I was alive. My heart was pounding so hard, I knew he could hear it. Everyone upstairs probably could too.

The one light bulb down there flickered to life only to reveal my worn and dirt smeared face, pale streaks running down my cheeks from when I would actually weep. Which I did, a lot. It also revealed the man. My eyes were instantly attracted to the vivid red skin. He wore a long brown trench coat, one of the sleeves rolled up to show a hand made of stone. The other held some strange looking pistol. Black leather pants led to... hooves. This man had goat legs, only fur less. Strange. My eyes traveled back to his face only to find golden eyes staring at me. Then I noticed two stubs above them, almost like corks. I found his sideburns rather amusing at the time. Still do in fact.

Dread turned to disbelief, I couldn't believe they let him in but they toss me into the nearest basement? At the time, I felt a little miffed. Later I find out that he wasn't exactly let in, but more busted in.

His gruff voice startled me out of my thoughts. With one eyebrow raised at me, he dubiously asked, "Hey, you gonna turn into something or what? I've had a lot of run ins with 'little girls changing into soul-sucking anomalies'."

"D-does turning into a coyote count?" I asked my voice raspy from misuse. I understood soul-sucking, but anomaly was quite the word to me at the time.

He chuckles lowly, it sounded almost sinister. But it wasn't because his once cautious, suspious face softened into pity. "So you're just a simple shape shifter?" he asked. I nodded lightly, earning a few more pops in my neck. They made him cringe. "Do you plan on eating anybody by any chance?" he continued on, perhaps hoping I truly was evil.

My face scrunched up into a look of disgust, like when I tried coffee for the first time and its bitter taste didn't match up to its aroma. The man cracked a smile but then sighed. Putting his gun away, he looks up, as if for guidance and it seems he received some because it breaks the chains that held me. I was awed by his strength, which earned another chuckle. Excuse me for being impressed... they were some pretty big chains...

He went to pick me up, which I instinctly shirked away. Waiting for me to relax, he then gently scooped me up. The man didn't seem to notice my stench... I was still a bit tense at first but then an overwhelming scent of roasted peanuts emanated from him and I just couldn't help but feel warm and safe. I've never met a human that smelled this good, so my coyote intuition told me that he must have good intentions. Never said I was brilliant, but it was right.

I remember looking down at my wrists and finding red welts from where the chains use to be. Later I would find a rainbow of bruises around my ribs and feet. Clutching his neck for safety as he treds up the stairs, he snarls out furiously, "Come on, darlin', time for me to take out the real monsters."

In front of the doorway was a row of men in black (ha! That's funny, cuz... you know... the movie. Anyway.) that had their guns pointed at my head. Fear coursed through my veins, though my exhausted body could do nothing but stare wide eyed back at the barrels. I felt his chest rumble as he laughed lightly at the men, before he said, "Guns down, the girl is safe. Harmless." Then he turned his gold, glowing eyes to the rest of the room's occupants. "You sick ignorant bastards, on the other hand, have another thing coming! Locking a little girl in a basement... what is wrong with you people?" Snarling, he got up into their faces challengingly. They all paled drastically and wouldn't look at him. It wasn't from guilt, that much I know. They feared him.

Good.

He was then restrained, if barely, by the men in black. At the time I found it unlikely that he could do much damage with me in one arm and the other now gun less. Though it turns out he could've defiantly had taken them all out, it just took me a couple years to figure that out.

His eyes pierced the flinching, trembling folk of the town without mercy. Giving in to his fellow troops, he growls out, "Better hope you don't see me again in town... won't be so lucky next time."

"That abomination will be your only company, demon! She will be the only one to ever go with you to the pits of hell!" screeched a rather old, withered woman in the back. "Lady, that's no problem with me." he smiled ruthlessly before muttering darkly, "Crazy broad..." He turned away from her raving and shoved the few left in his way.

A raspy hiss escaped my throat when the sun hit my face. I haven't been outside in so long... I took the pain, but took pity on my eyes and closed them from the harsh light. Using my other senses, I enjoyed the outside world like an escaped convict. The breeze blew through my thick filthy hair, giving it some life. It flowed over my oxygen deprived skin, filling the pores with its awful goodness. Scents coated my tongue; I ignored most of them for the forest and the smell of roasted peanuts. Opening my eyes halfway I notice a series of inconspicuous black cars parked along the street. I looked up and asked the man carrying me to one of the cars, "Am I going with you?"

"Yup."

"You're not going to leave me with..." I gestured to his comrades.

He must have heard the trembled in my recovering voice, because he looked down at me with confusion in his eyes. I stared back pleadingly; hoping to that he wouldn't discard me like everyone else.

Suddenly he replied, "Not until you make me leave."

Sighing aloud, I softly said, "Good." I felt so exhausted, the adrenaline out of my system. Still holding me in one arm, he slid into one of the car's passenger's seats ungracefully. Not done asking questions, I continued to say, "What's your name?"

The corners of his lips quirked up, "Hellboy."

My eyes opened up, disbelief framing my face. "Seriously." he said, still smiling. "Well, that's... fitting." I managed to say, but then I added, "I'm Ashe."

"Because of your hair?" he asked. My eyebrows knitted into confusion until I realized that my hair had the same coloring of a coyote. Lots of grayish browns, beiges, blacks, and a sprinkle of reddish orange strands. I shrugged, "Maybe. I dunno."

"Well... it's fitting." Hellboy said.

Feeling safe and cozy, I nestled closer to Hellboy, enjoying the fact that he seemed to be his own furnace.

...And that's how I met Hellboy. The beginning of a great friendship. The big red ape meets craftly little coyote. This all happened twelve years ago and now I'm a nineteen year old... woman? That's a word that's still hard to swallow... Anyway, at the moment, I'm currently a -reluctant- member of B.P.R.D. I say reluctant because the only reason why I'm there is so Red doesn't end up killing himself. He's nearly indestructible, not completely. It's my job to make sure the big oaf doesn't die.

Though, technically, no one knows of this hidden agenda. They assume I work for them because I owe them. I owe Red, they didn't do diddly-squat. Though, he feels like we're basically equal after a few missions.

Frankly, I disagree.

I remember walking onto the military base, a filthy little girl huddled up in a blanket. The place terrified me, and I felt ashamed to be there. It was so clean, and I was so... grimy. I started to warm up to it when I was able to take a shower. And some food. And some sleep... it didn't hurt that Red gave me a manatee plushy when I woke up.

Liz was a few years older than me when I first met her. I had some issues with her later over religion, but at the time I was so happy to see another girl near my age. Then again, she was such a ball of angst. Can't blame her, she did accidently kill her family in a fire. We both could relate when it came to having no family. I am proud to say I could easily make her laugh and smile once I dug a little.

Our issues grew whenever she would decide to leave the bureau, which she would do a lot. I had abandonment issues, and would always pick a fight with her when she came back. I couldn't help it, she brought those feelings of betrayal back and the feelings couldn't be restrained. Thankfully the boys would step in when they decided we did enough damage. It was always hard to subdue fiery tempered girls like Liz and me.

Now Abe has always been somewhat of a mystery to me. Just because he's so damn smart. Even now, we'll be having a conversation and then he'll use an obnoxiously long word that slowly but surely makes my face twist into a look of sheer confusion. Maybe I should read a dictionary... that would help. I don't share his taste in food, but we tend to have really intense conversations. I always learn something, whether it be about myself or a theory of whatever but I learn something.

As a child, he fascinated me. It could be because, strictly speaking, he's a water creature and I'm a land animal. From two different worlds. I envied his affinity for water. I also appreciated his humor; the man was too passive for his jokes and insults to be taken seriously.

Broom, or Professor Bruttenholm, was just as wise as Blue... but once again, his beliefs interfered with us having a stable relationship. The man defined everything like a fairy tale. Good vs. evil... light against darkness. One would think I would believe that, seeing how I was treated. I do see the evil in people, especially humans, but that doesn't mean they're all strictly evil. There is a definite grey area; no one is one or the other. Light is not always going to be the good (ever stared into the sun? Yeah. Not so good.) and darkness is not always going to be bad. Perhaps it will always be feared, but the fear subsides when you find other ways to see.

I will give the man some credit, he saw the good in what others would deem evil. Hellboy could've ended up like me, or worse. Instead, Broom took him in as his son. He saw that the good could outweigh the bad, and so it has. This is why I hold my tongue when he goes into one of his speeches or stories. He is the reason why I am alive, the reason why Red entered my life.

And for that, I am thankful.

Alright, so as far as life went in the B.P.R.D., it was very good to say in the least. I was ecstatic to have my own room, even though I would run to Red's when I had bad dreams. Eventually, Abe suggested a dream catcher. He never believed in those things, but he seemed to know that I would and wanted to comfort me somehow. It worked, hell; it still works to this day. Abe and Broom would homeschool me whenever they could, and eventually have me take online classes. I was quick, but would need constant reminder of what I just learned. After I had thoroughly explored the whole base, I found myself needing to be left alone. It's a coyote thing, we tend to wander alone and will randomly develop a small group, aka pack.

Apparently, I had forgotten to take Red into account since I would follow him everywhere. Well, when he was there. It amused him, and it made me happy to near him. If I needed to feel safe and secure, I went to him. If I was hurt or unhappy, I went to him. I was given the task to watch over his cats when he left, and I took this job very seriously as a child. No kitten or tabby escaped my baby-sitting wrath. Though eventually, it was hard to maneuver around the piles of trash so I cleaned it up. Only to find it the same way a few days later... a ten year girl has never been so terrifying.

I was taught how to fight when I reached the age thirteen. It was from multiple agents but eventually I made my way up to training with the others. Red never fought me, no matter how hard I tried to get him too. He said he didn't want to hurt me, and I let it go. For a while…

Soon I became bored and tried to teach myself how to wield a blade. Not swordplay, something sneakier like knives. The injuries kept piling up, though, so they hired a professional for me so I wouldn't cut off any fingers. I need those, apparently…

When I finally reached my sweet sixteen, they allowed me to take on a few minor missions. More than just a little excited, I ran to tell Red the good news. He wasn't so happy about it. Broom and he had quite the argument, but the old man won out in the end.

As I gained the trust and respect from other agents, I soon was able to join the others on the more dangerous missions. Once that happened, I decided to once and for all to get something to cover up that horrendous scar. Liz came with me, for moral support I guess. We never did tell the tattoo artist why there was a scar shaped like a cross there… but then, he should mind his own business. It's okay though, he didn't mess up the tribal design I made for it.

Now here's the juicy gossip part. It really hurts to say it, but what do I got to lose? Not much… well, except for lots of stuff. Anyway, it all comes down to my horrid crush on Red. I know, I know! I shouldn't, we're friends. Just friends. But I can't help but like him… to me, he's attractive, funny, easy-going, strong, I could go on but let's not and say we did. It's probably just some sort of syndrome people get when they get rescued. People fall for their heroes all the time.

Why did I have to?

It just-just hurts, you know? He's older than me, even with the reverse dog-years thing, and he only sees me as a younger sister to watch over. This would be creepy if it were true… Red will never look at me as potential dating material. It's alright, though. I may love him, but I will never let myself fall for him. The pain's not worth it. I can handle crushing over him, I haven't died yet so that must be a good sign. Besides, I'll only go until he tells me too.

Yeah I'm not a big fan of the ending but eh, it's alright with me. No, I really don't care if my character is viewed as a mary-sue. I didn't write this for others, this is just something that refused to leave my mind. Besides, any pretty and semi-smart chick is always viewed as a damn mary-sue. Which, in my opinion, is pretty ridiculous but WHATEVER. XD So, I hoped you enjoyed and hope ya'll leave some lovely suggestions.

CUZ I NEED THEM. o-o

Oh and don't be offened by the anti-christian nonsense but the town is loosely based on some of friends experiances from a small town she used to live in. She never got a cross burned to her back... but I thought 'What the hell? WHY NOT? :B' so... sorry if it offends.

Flames will be used to warm my ass till summer gets here- THEN IT'LL BE FOR BURNING SOME MARSHMELLOWS! :D