Disclaimer: I own nothing from Hellboy, Comic/Movie or otherwise.

Flames of Freedom

Chapter 1.) Counted Blessings

Screaming filled the institution, screaming unlike the others who hollered and yelled or cried out. These screams were new to the institute, screams of a mother, a hurt woman whose fear for her child came above her own fear for her trapped self.

"Nehmain!" The baby, pale and stark against his dark blue blanket, wailed loudly, his grandmother holding him tenderly and shushing at him.

"Give him back! That's my son!" Liz Sherman had tears in her hazel eyes; her dark hair was braided back and the soft brown of her dress a welcomed color amongst all the white.

"Honey, I know that, he isn't being taken away permanently. He is still your son. He just can't stay here this isn't any place for a baby." Fharryn shrieked and pulled against the leather straps keeping her against the wall. The baby kept his wailing, loud and strange. It didn't sound like a human baby's cry, though he was far from being human anyways.

"Let me hold him, please! Just let me hold my baby one more time before you take him. "She said in such a heart broken voice that her mother had looked to the Doctor and nurse to which the doctor nodded and three more male nurses came in to unhook her from her binds. She stood up on shaky legs, frail and malnourished looking, she was without the collar and heavily drugged so that she could be detained without it. She slowly came to Liz with the three men nearly on her, Liz held the pale baby out to her twenty three year old daughter, pregnant for two years, she was certain it must be hard for her to be away from him for very long.

Fharryn took him into her skinny arms lovingly, her eyes nothing but warm suns. His own eyes were tiny slivers, wide from corner to corner however. His eyes would be like his fathers, she knew they were and she told them all the moment she'd seen his cleaned face. His wailing stopped and he cuddled against her breast, nudging against the thin white material of her gown. She gave a small watery smile; she'd been dry for two weeks now.

"Hungry?" She looked around and gave the three men a hateful look. She petted the soft white waves from his face,

"Nothing there little man, sorry pal." She brought him up to kiss his soft face and he gurgled at her. His eyes slowly worked open and the room went quiet.

"Told you. . ." Fharryn whispered as the bright gold orbs looked around the weird place. His pupils were gold like his mother's and where the white should have been were only a rusty gold that was a bit darker than his pupil; it made them pop in color. His eyes found his mother and that was it, his attention was for her only.

"You look a bit like your Auntie, but that's ok, she is a fine and beautiful woman." Her voice broke a bit as he sucked on his lower lip, still watching her. He made an obnoxious noise and she smiled at him, running the backs of her fingers over his temple.

"So, Sword or Flame, young man?" Liz gasped,

"Fharryn?" She looked up to meet her aging mother's eyes to which were squinting in suspicion.

"Well surely he is both then? Yes, probably. He will be a . . . a flaming king I bet. Or queen, whichever he wants I guess." She snickered and kissed his nose.

"You can be anything you want, swear, anything but a hypocrite and an individual hater. Ok? Though being racist or sexist isn't something I can see you being either, thankfully." Her usually harsh and stricken features were melted into nothing less than pure love for the son that had come from her, his own large eyes watching her like she was the only being on the planet. "I promise to always give you the support you need too, I know what life is like being different and not having anyone to care or support you. . ." Liz choked back tears, wanting to say something but knowing nothing would help.

"Also, you always have people to love you, remember that. I'm in here for now but you have family outside too. Your father and his sister, Neils and prolly Aine too. Oh and Abe . . . I wonder what they are all doing now . . ." She rocked him gingerly and he tried to talk at her. She gave him a rare laugh.

"Oh yes, and if you are like me and are a walking lighter you use that flame all you want, k? Don't let anyone tell you that you can't use it or that its bad cause it's not. It's every bit apart of you as your arm or leg is." She adjusted him so that he was in one arm and Liz stiffened then looked concerned as Fharryn raised her hand over the small baby. A cry fell from her lips and the people in the room leaned in, ready to grab the baby as her hand went up in flames.

His eyes went wide and he reached out,

"Fharryn!" His tiny baby fingers wrapped around one of her enflamed fingers and he brought it to his mouth, he laughed and it was a tinkling sound. He was flame resistant. Liz walked closer and saw that his hand was on fire too now; he had somehow followed her lead.

"Oh Fharryn . . . " She looked at her mother with pride in her eyes.

"That's my boy. . ." She pulled her hand away and he waved his own flamed hand around, joy and wonder in his large baby eyes. It went out soon after hers and he waited for her to do it again. She smiled at him again and kissed him.

"That'll make a nice game won't it?" She gave him a few more kisses as Liz reached to take him. As soon as he was out of her arms and in those of his grandmother the tears were back and he was crying again.

"I'm going to go and try to get him settled. I love you Fharryn, we'll visit soon." She turned to leave as the nurses were herding her daughter back to her imprisonment.

"Remember the things I said to him Liz. I meant them." Liz stopped and looked back,

"I won't be in here forever." Liz licked her dry lips and nodded.

"Also, you better hope Nuada doesn't find out about Nehmain, too." She raised an eyebrow.

"Nehmain?" Fharryn nodded to her son.

"Nehmain is his name; I won't allow it to be anything else." Liz took a deep breath and nodded again.

"Alright, I'll be sure to write it so on his release certificate." Fharryn teared up at the sound of her son being so unhappy; his cries bouncing off the thick cement walls.

"I'll see you soon baby, be strong for mama." Just like that, as if he had heard her words and understood him he slowly silenced his wails and cries. He was left for sniffling and Liz looked down as if she held an alien before walking off, leaving an imprisoned daughter whose heart ached for love.

The blue and silver balloons bumped against each other in the cafeteria as Liz and Trevor set up the plates and plastic wear and napkins. The brightest color in the mostly white room was Hellboy, his red skin calling the whites off like a war. He had a small bundle in his arms, tiny hands trying desperately to get ahold of a thick black beard that had been grown out a little longer then tradition.

"Nice try pal." Hellboy chuckled at the small baby boy, his birthday was today and he still looked only a few months old. His large doe like gold eyes seemed to looked over his red grandpa before he burst into flames, a tinkling of laughter escaping him, true to his age.

"Whoa sport, lucky Manning set you up with this fire proof junk, you'd be running around naked." He smiled down at his flaming grandson who was just as cheery as possible.

"Oh, HB, get him to stop that . . . he'll scare the guest's off." He rolled his eyes at his ex-wife's worried words and made faces at the baby who in turned slowly let his flame die away.

"Thanks sport." He winked at Nehmain who was chewing on his fingers. The doors to the south hallway opened and four tall male nurses in grey and white came in, between them was a frail woman in a white gown with light blue stripes so faint they were barely noticeable. Her hair was to the middle of her back and black as her father's. Her golden eyes lifted up to see her father hold her baby and a smile lit her ashened face, the light catching the metal of her collar and the gold flakes in her skin. The nurses took her right up to HB who nodded the nurses off.

"Hey Blaze." She ignored his civil attempts and leaned forward to take her son, the tall father she was once very close to handing him gently to her.

"Happy birthday, Nehmain." Her voice was tender and loving and he was smiling and drooling all over himself. She held him up so that he was leaning upright before she took a look around. Her parents and twin were present; she saw Manning and a few agents from the Bureau present.

"Well, it's a party at least. Wished your father could see you. . ." She had whispered it to him but her parents had heard, had given each other a look even. Fharryn brought him over to the table with the huge blue cake and she smiled as she realized all the blue decorations.

"Why so much blue?" She looked between her parents but it was Trevor, who answered,

"He seems to prefer it. Silver or greys and blues are his favorite it seems." She grinned at her twin before giving her son a kiss on the cheek to which he garbled a reply.

"It's 'cause you look so handsome in it, right?" She laughed and looked at the high-chair that was in yellows and reds, then the cow sticker on the side. She looked to Trevor,

"Where did that come from?" He blushed and looked to his mom who raised a sassy brow at him. Hellboy gave his son a pat on the back.

"You are going to be an aunt, Blaze." She snorted and shook her head.

"Please tell me it's not Debby." Trevor rolled his eyes,

"No, it's Matt." They both grinned and she brushed the fine blonde hair away, it was short.

"Two things." She had the eyes of her immediate family.

"One," She looked to Trevor," I hope it's yours." They laughed, Manning too even, he raised a glass of red something to it.

"And two, who keeps cutting his hair?" Liz looked to Hellboy before straightening some of the napkins.

"Boy's should have their hair kept from their face." Fharryn rested her cheek against his soft head.

"Well, this boy can have it to his wee shoulders before you trim it. Trim it, don't cut it all off." Liz made to argue but Hellboy put a hand to her shoulder,

"Respect her wishes Liz, he is her son." She looked like she wanted to throw the cake at him for taking Fharryn's side but let it go. Her daughter had a rather pleased look about it all. Liz straightened out imaginary wrinkles in her dark red turtle neck next before gesturing the others over.

"It's time to light the candles." Hellboy got out a lighter and Liz leaned forward ready to take it but he gave it to Fharryn instead. The nurses standing guard came alert but HB waved them off. Fharryn looked at the metallic lighter with a bit of awe before looking up at Hellboy.

"He is your son after all, only right his Ma gets to light his candles for him." She swallowed and looked at her happy son, his large eyes trying to see all that he could. She adjusted him so that he was facing outward and she flicked the lighter open, flames shot out and he laughed, his body shooting up in flames again to match. She giggled at her son and shook her head.

"I'm pretty sure only humans celebrate birthdays like this, with cake and candles. It's nice though, right . . . with people here and stuff?" He was watching her light the candles like it was tiny miracles. She closed the lighter and handed it back to her father. Manning came over to stand beside Liz,

"Well, should we start with the singing?" Fharryn rolled her eyes and kissed Nehmain again before they started to sing happy birthday to him. He flung his flaming arms around with a huge smile on his face as he saw a silvery camera come out from Liz's pocket and a flash erupted.

"Blow 'em out!" Everyone was quiet as Fharryn gently grabbed his tiny fist and his flames died out.

"We gotta take those flames away; put them to sleep . . . alright?" He looked at her like she was nuts and she laughed before leaning in with him and blowing them out, the party clapped and he tried to mimic them, in turn making them all laugh back. Liz was cutting the cake and handing out plates with scoops of ice-cream. Once everyone had a plate Trevor went to get a plain cardboard box and brought it to the table and set it next to Fharryn, who had hesitantly placed Nehmain in the high-chair to feed him some cake. After a few bites he was done with it, he was too interested in the box. She got him out and set him against her again, facing outward.

"Present time." Liz got the camera ready again as Trevor placed a blue wrapped gift before them, Nehmain's eyes large at the wrapping paper.

"Oh, pretty isn't it?" She laughed at the way he reached for it, she tore a section open and watching his reaction, an open mouthed shocked look. They laughed at his sweet shocked baby face as she tore the rest off to reveal that it was a blue jumper.

"It's flame resistant." Manning offered, and Fharryn grinned. The next thing she unwrapped was a tiny t-shirt. She spread it out on the table, it was red and,

"Hottie?" She laughed at the words that were made from flames; she set him on the table, his blanket underneath him before she took his blue shirt off and put his 'Hottie' one on. She held him up and Liz smiled, taking his picture.

"That one's going to be framed." Fharryn bit her lip as she held him back to her again,

"Do you think I can get a copy?" Liz nodded,

"I'll get you copies of all the pictures." Fharryn lit up then, happy she would have pictures of her son. The next presents were a fuzzy baby hoodie and a couple of toys. He had socks and a small grey beanie with a blue 'N' embroidered into it.

She held her son dearly when everything was put away and the trash was gone and everyone started to leave. Nehmain gripped her hair like it was a life line and she kissed his forehead.

"I'll see you soon, I love you Nehmain." She reluctantly gave him to his grandmother who tried to give her a hug. It was stiffly received and a bit awkward.

"Take good care of him." Liz nodded, she would. They slowly left after goodbyes and Fharryn went back to her white hell.

The years were going by fast it seemed, I got to see my sweet baby on holidays and sometimes random weekends and still it wasn't enough. He always seemed different every time I saw him, something had changed or he was a little bigger though my parents would tell me he barely changed at all. His third birthday past and then it was his fourth and then his sixth. He would be eight this Sunday and I was receiving a special treat, he was going to spend the weekend here at the Bureau with me. I looked around my tiny cell, pictures and pictures of him taped to my walls. It was the only joy here for me, between the collar that constantly choked me physically and spiritually and the drugs they fed me to keep me in their control . . .I would be a wasted away vegetable lady.

Only Nehmain kept me mentally stable now, and only barely. I already knew how I was going to save him, the only thing I had to do was to wait for him to be old enough. Old enough to brave the city long enough to find the Way In.

The clicks of metal at my door caught my attention and the door opened to reveal the last person I ever wanted to see.

"Ah, Miss Sherman, so good to see you today." I looked away, no use in being hateful. The better I acted, or rather, the more submissive I was the better my 'behavior' was seen as and the better behavior the better and more privileges.

"Mrs. Sherman is here with young Nehmain if you would like to come out and meet them?" I nodded silently and stood up, my off white hospital gown thin and the faded yellow shawl I wore made me look all the more sickly, almost like I belonged here, which I didn't. He held my arm to help me out and I gritted my teeth, I hated it when they touched me. He led me down the metallic hallway to a section of doors, elevators. He picked one and hit a button that I didn't care to look at. A large blue Troll was being escorted down the hall, large metal cuffs on him to keep him calm and weak as the agents transferred him to the new sect. His black eyes caught my gold and I saw a familiar-ness pass over them. His hand twitched and I gave him a nod before I was pulled into the elevator. So I would have help on the inside, excellent.

The library was a sight for sore eyes as the familiar red carpets and the old dark wood came to view. Fharryn looked around eagerly for her son, it had been nearly three months since she'd last seen him and she hoped he hadn't changed too much. She saw Liz and she put a finger to her lips before pointing to the table.

There he was, sitting at the huge wooden table, the chair dwarfing him more. She slowly walked up behind him, Dr. Kline waiting at the door way. Nehmain had a hoodie on, grey, that looked a few sizes too big and his jeans hung off him a bit. He was thin, very skinny and small and she noticed he was sitting on several thick books. She smiled more when she saw that he was drawing, he had a stack of paper with crayons, his little sneakered feet swinging before him. She leaned carefully trying to see what he was drawing, trees was the only thing she could see at first. Then as she looked closer she saw that there were two people amongst the trees. A person with long black hair, the skin white but had orange streaks through it and wore a black shirt with a red skirt and big black boots. The shirt had a red heart in it, it made her smile. The other person was much smaller, he had used yellow for the hair and a blue shirt with black pants and they were holding hands. She let out a chuckle and he jumped much to her surprise.

"Mama!" He slid out of his chair and gave her a hug around her thin waist.

"I didn't know you were an artist, Nehmain. Who are they?" He gave her a subtle smile she was pleased to see his lips had a bit of grey in them, they appeared to grow darker by the year.

"It's me and you." He pulled her over closer by her hand as he got into the chair again then he resettled on the books and pointed,

"I even drew your tail." He grinned as he looked back to her real life one, swinging like a pleased cat's. She petted his shoulder length hair and pointed to her clothes.

"Did you imagine that yourself?" He frowned before looking back up while she pulled out a chair and sat next to him to be a bit closer to his height.

"Well . . . sorta . . ." He looked back to Liz who was taking a picture.

"Grandma showed me pictures of you and . . . Uncle Trevor . . . when you were younger." She nearly hugged him as he got out of breathe with that one sentence. She looked at the picture again and noticed more detail, like the fact they both had black lips and large golden circles for eyes. She then noticed that there was a darker bit of grass next to his drawn self and she gestured to it.

"Mess up?" He bit his grey lip and shrugged.

"I . . . was going to draw someone else but . . ." He looked back to Liz and Fharryn quirked an eyebrow.

"He was going to draw his . . . father." Fharryn froze and looked to her son; his cheeks having a bit of pinky tinged them.

"I didn't know what he looked like and . . . well . . . Grandma said she didn't know what he looked . . . like either." Fharryn's face scrunched up and she gave a hateful look to her mother.

"Why lie to him?" His eyes went round with fear at his mother's angry tone; he gave his grandmother a look. Liz looked away as if it was nothing.

"It's the truth, I didn't lie. I don't know who his father is . . . therefore I can't possibly know what he looks like." Fharryn growled but turned around and took one of the blank pieces and took out a black crayon and wrote at the bottom,

King Nuada Silverlance

Nehmain's eyes went round as she set the black away to the side and gestured for him to pick up the color he used for his skin.

"He looks just like you. Though his mouth is more like that," She pointed to the drawing of them, their mouths blackened.

"And his hair is longer and his eyes are a bit different, not by very much though." She smiled as he started to make a person shape, excitement in his eyes.

"What kind of first name is King?" She snorted and shook her head before getting out the orange crayon,

"Make his crown with this, he is legit, bro." He wrinkled his nose and gave her a 'nutso' look.

"Mama . . ." She smiled,

"He is king of Bethmoora, you didn't know?" She gave a hateful look to her mother who was sifting through her purse. He shook his head to her question, getting out the yellow crown for hair. She stopped him though.

"Whoa there, is that supposed to be wet hair?" She looked at her questioningly. She smiled,

"Can I get a glass of water?" Liz looked to Dr. Kline who nodded and left. Fharryn pulled her fingers through her son's fair hair,

"Your hair is white and . . . " She looked closer, "I see bits of silver too, just like Nuada's." She looked through the crayons to find a lighter grey and handed it to him,

"This one is better." She stuck her tongue out at him and he smiled, Dr. Kline was back and handed her the cup of water. Eyes wide, Nehmain watched as she took a small tendril of his hair and placed the tip in the cup. Pulling the hair out, three of the people in the library watched in awe as the hair that had been exposed to the water shifted and entwined, turning a soft yellow. Small waves became of the yellow hair and she smiled.

"See?'' He grinned and pulled his hair out to see it better.

"That was so cool. . ." She chuckled and watched him get back to making the picture of his father in a furious manner. She hoped he grew up to be strong like him.

It was nine at night and most of the Bureau was dark. Her skinny son was whimpering as they stood just outside her cell or room as she referred to it for him. It was dark and she was just finding out he was afraid of the dark. She kneeled down and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Look, there is a bed in there for you even; you'll get to see all the pictures Grandma ever took of you too." She laughed at that but it still didn't help. He clung to her and was trembling. She took ahold of his face and with a childish voice,

"Brave up butthead." The whimpers stopped and he looked at her with bewilderment. She took his hand and gripped it,

"You should never be afraid of the dark, not when you always have light with you." His eyes widened and he shook his head.

"Grandma says I'm not allowed to do that without a good reason." Fharryn frowned,

"Well, no reason is good enough for that woman. I don't know how she ever used her own flames." His eyes widened more, his mouth hanging open. She grinned sheepishly and put a finger to her lips.

"Our little secret?" He nodded before looking their hands, a small light flame arose from his and he held it out before him, the hallway lighting up a bit. She smiled at her small son with pride as he took a few steps to her darkened 'room', he took a few looks back at her as she ushered him soothingly at his back.

"I'm here." She whispered as he came into the room. She turned the light on and he wrinkled his nose in a fashion that reminded her all too much of his father. He looked around and grinned at the hundreds of pictures, pictures from his birth right up until this past year's 4th of July.

"Gee, you weren't kidding." She laughed and went to the new cot that had been placed in there for him. He wrinkled his nose again and shifted on his feet.

"Mama?" She pulled back the blankets for him.

"Can . . . I sleep with you?" She paused and looked back,

"Do you want to?" He nodded, eyes round. She gave him a gentle smile and gestured to her bed,

"Hop in, little man." He took his shoes and hoodie off and did just that, snuggling up to his mother to sleep for the first time since he was a baby.