Truth is Stranger

Jaded-alchemist

Summary: There's a lot wrong in the life of John Meyers. Losing his girlfriend and finding out he's an androgynous winged creature straight out of ancient texts…well that's just the tip of the iceberg. Slash HB/JM

Author's Note: I'm Back, Kinda... This is my first attempt at a Hellboy story, it's also been a while since I've really sat down and written anything, I also have no Beta, so I apologize for the quality. I would also like to state that I do not own Hellboy…just out of propriety.

Chapter 1

John raked his hands through his brown hair, making it stick up in odd places. He slid them back to cradle his face behind them, slumping further forward in his chair. "I don't know what to do." He moaned out through his fingers. Hands dragging further down his face to cover his mouth as he said so, black bags hung below dulled brown eyes. "She cheated on me."

A bulky looking man sporting a graying crew cut glanced at him from over his brandy glass. His hardened face looking strange momentarily as he let a sympathetic grimace grace it for a moment before it faded into a stoic one and his eyes moved back across the bar to tactfully observe the new waitress. "Sorry Meyers, I know you thought this one would work out." The man tossed back the last of his drink, making a face as he swallowed.

John just looked solemnly at the toes of his tennis shoes, frowning slightly to himself. "Yeah." He sighed quietly. "I mean I knew it was going on, I just-" he paused again, "With Rogers?" he inquired rhetorically.

Swinson barked a quick laugh before he sobered at the unappreciative glower on John's face. "Sorry." He lifted his hand to signal the bartender for another round. "Went for the blob over the bean pole, not many girls would do that." He muttered to John. "I know it sucks, but the girl was a freak anyways. It'll be better this way."

"Yeah…yeah." John sighed to himself shaking his head, he stood from his barstool. "Listen Swinson, I gotta get home, long day tomorrow." Swinson caught the new glass of brandy as it slid down the bar to him.

"Alright Meyers, I'll see you at the precinct kid." He let a smile that looked more like a grimace, cross his lips for a split second before it was washed away with a sip of brandy.

John nodded at him, slipped on his coat and was out the door. Swinson took another sip of his brandy, "Halloween's a sucky ass shift."

"Six dead cops, and a couple billion in artifacts damaged…" Swinson growled, fingering his gun as he glanced at the closed door that led to the scene. "Happy Halloween kid."

John rubbed his forearm, the hairs standing on end. "Trick or treat, right?" He glanced at the door; a feeling of trepidation worked its way into him.

"You alright, John?" Swinson inquired the lines around his mouth creased downward, a sign John knew to mean he was genuinely concerned. "You're awfully jumpy today. That girl of yours isn't giving you too much crap is she?"

"No," Jon trailed off; eyes straying back to the door. "I just feel like something bad is going to happen…" He glanced at Swinson, the man was frowning at him.

He cleared his throat gruffly, "Maybe you just need some air." He suggested, crossing his tattooed arms across his chest and moving to stare the door down, as if he would rate clearance to the scene if he continued on.

"I'll go check around back for anything."

"Call if you need backup." Swinson grumbled as he pulled out a cigar, earning him a few skeptical glances.

John snatched the cigar from between his partner's teeth as he passed him, "No smoking in the building." He pocketed it, ignoring the annoyed grumble from his partner. Jogging down the front stairs, Meyers turned a hasty left pushing into the large crowd of civilians and pausing to gaze in slight confusion as a large Garbage truck made its way past. He squinted at the reflective side only feet in front of his face as the vehicle inched further into the courtyard. He turned from it and continued his trek to check the perimeter.

Reaching for his weapon he quickly unsnapped the holster, his other hand pulled a flashlight out from his pocket and shone it around at the building's walls, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He sighed as he reached the next corner, nothing. His Radio fizzled to life, announcing all officers vacate the building entirely. John rolled his eyes; the feds were most likely stepping in again.

He gave the alley one more look over, carefully surveying the side of the building, he stepped closer to an old, and probably out of safety regulations, fire escape ladder connecting to the building next to the crime scene. He squinted at one of the rungs he was at eyelevel with, a piece of black cloth had gotten wedged and torn off on the rust and hole ridden thing. John fumbled with his flashlight momentarily, not taking his eyes off of the small bit of cloth.

"Look at them ugly suckers Blue." Hellboy growled, Cigar clenched between his teeth as he gazed at the crowd outside of the garbage truck. Amber eyes surveying them. "One sheet of glass between them and us."

Abe fiddled with his breathing apparatus, blinking and flourishing a black leather glove covered hand, "Story of my life." He stated in a nonchalant fashion.

Hellboy pulled the unlit cigar from between his teeth, "I break it, they see us, Happy Halloween. No more hiding." He clenched his fist and tapped the glass as the large garbage truck paused and his eyes met briefly with the curious warm brown gaze of a young New Jersey detective before he turned his amber gaze downward. "Outside. I could be outside-"

"You mean, outside…with her." Abe replied with a flourish of his hand as he expertly put his breathing device on. Hellboy strapped on his utility belt with amulets and rosaries hanging from it. He eyed Abe carefully as he grabbed a handful of stogie stubs, choosing to light one, and shoving the rest into a pouch.

"Don't get psychic with me, fella." He growled at him as he extracted a large double barrel handgun from a steel box.

Abe blinked at him, "Nothing psychic about it. You're easy."

Hellboy sighed as he checked the weapon's functionality, "How am I ever gonna get the girl? I drive around in a garbage truck."

Abe blinked again as he adjusted the black box like device on his own belt, "Liz left us, Red. Take the hint."

Hellboy hefted the gun shoulder height, "We don't take hints." He growled as he eyed his own weapon.

The Garbage truck pulled into the interior courtyard of the museum, stopping as FBI agents dispelled the local police from the scene and securing the front gates.

John stepped up onto an overturned trash barrel, reaching up to grasp the fire escape's ladder with latex glove covered hands. His hair began to stand on edge again as he jerked the ladder to get it to slide down to ground level.

He hopped off of the dented, rusty can and placed it off to the side as he peered at the small piece of fabric stuck to the rung of the ladder. He resisted the urge to rub his arms, instead opting instead to wiggle the fabric from its position.

"Your interference was expected." A thick accented voice stated from behind him. John jumped up and spun around, piece of fabric between his left index finger and thumb and his right hand on his pistol. He carefully sized up the bald man standing before him. He wore and overcoat, a dark suit underneath it, and sunglasses blocking his eyes from view.

"Sir I'm afraid this is considered a crime scene, I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the premises." John informed him evenly, hand still on his weapon.

"Though not in such a lowly form." The man replied with flair as if John hadn't said anything at all. He took a step forward, hand raised and John undid the clasp of his holster for the second time that night.

Abe and Hellboy came level with an oversized set of brass doors, Abe continued forward and slipped his leather glove off of his webbed hand, laying it against the door with a wet sound. The blue amphibious man leaned against the door, closing his multilayered eyelids in concentration. Behind him two Agents rolled a munitions case towards Hellboy. Hellboy hummed thoughtfully, chomping down on one of his unlit cigars as he opened the case eagerly. He ran his fleshy index finger over rows of different bullets, eyes inspecting each one as he did so.

"A 16th century statue was destroyed. Saint Dionysius the Aeropagite." Professor Broom Informed the group from where he stood nearby, lightly leaning against his cane. He gazed in an appraising sort of way at Hellboy as he pulled out a few specially crafted bullets.

"Who wards off demons." Hellboy acknowledged the information gruffly.

"Smuggled into this country by an overzealous curator. The statue, however, was hollow-" Broom continued.

"Reliquary-" Hellboy inserted.

Professor Broom let his lips tip into a smile, "A prison. The Vatican deemed its contents dangerous enough to include it on the List of Avignon. Of which we hold a copy."

Hellboy selected a clip full of bullets from the case and a speed loader, humming acknowledgement. "Would'ya look at these babies? Made 'em myself. Holy Water, silver shavings, white oak: the works." He crooned at his ammo as he loaded it.

Abe pulled away from the door, his three eyelids blinking lazily, "Behind this door," he began taking steps towards a trunk full of tomes, Pulling one out and flipping through it languidly. "A dark entity, evil, ancient and hungry."

"Oh, well. Lemme go in and say 'hi'." Hellboy drawled as he chewed down on his cigar. He pushed his way through the big doors with little effort, illuminated by an eerie flickering amber glow as he stepped, undaunted, inside allowing the doors to close behind him.

Hellboy's amber eyes scanned the demolished room carefully, taking in the emergency blue lights and burning debris scattered about the large room. He stepped over the remains of a display case and past another fallen one cautiously. He paused to toe shreds of blue uniforms, belts and bitten boots, noticing the wet quality to them. He put a finger to his ear, scanning the area with his hand cannon drawn. "Blue, It stinks in here…finely aged road kill." He murmured into his radio quietly glancing around as a napping sound permeated the air, he inhaled looking up at the ceiling.

A huge creature hung from the ceiling, it's powerful bloody jaws still working around what Hellboy assumed was the last of the security Guards. Its powerful looking arms and legs held onto the ceiling with ease and its head full of tentacles hid a majority of its face from view.

"Hey, stinky. Kitchen's closed." Hellboy quipped aloud to the upside-down monstrosity. He glanced back down at the pile of half chewed clothing on the floor. "Whatcha havin'? Six guards raw? Plus belts and boots? Man, you're gonna need some heavy fiber to move that out-"

"Red I found something-" Abe's voice interrupted his smart mouthing, "There's not much here. The entity's name is Sammael, the desolate one, son of Nergal-" Sammael dropped himself from the ceiling, landing hard on the floor, his back to Hellboy, slimy and cracked skin showing from underneath parted tentacles, blue veins crisscrossing along his skin.

"Hold it," Hellboy interrupted, Abe eyeing Sammael up cockily, "Hey Sammy, Whadayasay we work this out? Peacefully. I'm not a great shot, but-" He raised his gun, cocking an eyebrow, "The Samaritan here, uses really big bullets."

Sammael stood on his two powerful back legs, his waist cracking sickeningly as it distorted, twisting his top half towards Hellboy. The large red demon's eyes narrowed and he aimed in with the Samaritan. As his finger began slowly squeezing the trigger Sammael leapt away with a shrill shriek. Hellboy fired off the first shot, demolishing a column. He cursed loudly turning with the monster and firing a second time. The second shot hit Sammael, dropping the monster with a squelching sound; it let out a final rattling cough and grew still on the floor.

"That's all for you, Sammy." Hellboy mumbled, pulling a cigar from one of his coat pockets and jamming it into his mouth before turning.

"Red, you need to hear the rest of the information-" Abe's voice crackled through the radio as Hellboy located a lighter, and expertly put his gun away in a fashion reminiscent of a gunslinger.

"Nah he's taken care of." Hellboy stated as he lit his cigar, making his way back to the brass doors.

"No, listen to this." Abe insisted. "Sammael, the desolate one. Lord of the shadows, son of Nergal, hound of resurrection-"

Hellboy stopped, grimacing around his cigar as he glanced behind him to find the corpse of Sammael gone. "See, I don't like that-" He stated

"Hound of resurrection?" Abe inquired before continuing with his description of the creature. "Harbinger of pestilence, seed of destruction-"

Hellboy rolled his eyes as he put his hand on the Samaritan once again, "Skip to the end willya? How do I kill it?" He demanded, surveying his surroundings cautiously.

"It doesn't say-" Abe answered.

Hellboy sniffed again and turned to his right only to be thrown against the very doors he had been heading to by a wild swing of Sammael's arm. Sammael lashed out once more with a punch. Hellboy was sent crashing through glass cases and out a window, falling into the alleyway below.

"-hiding your mighty and pure form. Mildly deceptive don't you think? And here I thought your kind was above deception. But I guess we learn new things every day don't we Jonathan?"

John sighed again as the older man continued to babble in a somewhat eccentric fashion, he wondered briefly at how the older man knew his name. At the sound of shots inside the building John turned his attention from the slowly approaching, and mildly creepy, blind man. That split second distraction was all the man needed. An ominous voice echoed through the alley as pain rippled through John's body, causing the slight man to drop his gun and fall to his knees with a choking sound. He struggled to look at the man, fighting to roll his eyes upwards, his mouth agape in silent agony. The voice continued to echo through the alleyway, weaving through the air and delivering its message in a strange, old language. The sound of fabric ripping caught John's bleary attention and fire coursed through his back. John gave in and let out a raspy scream.

Hellboy rolled off of the Garbage bin with a grunt, staggering to his feet. He rubbed his forehead with his flesh hand and grit his teeth. He breathed in deeply and frowned as he noticed that he was not alone in the alley. A second uneven and deep breathing caught his attention as he turned quickly to his left. He allowed his eyes to roll over the crumpled form only inches from his feet. The back of the young man's shirt was shredded and bloody yet despite the mess the two wings protruding from his back were pristine. The young man began to struggle to get to his feet, breathing erratic. "Fuck." The stranger let out an exhausted cuss as he stumbled forward. Hellboy quickly caught him by the arm. At the unexpected contact the brunette's head whipped around and two bleary brown eyes met Hellboy's amber ones.

"Never known Angel's to cuss." Hellboy stated gruffly as he stared into curious brown eyes.

"Child…" An echoing voice from in front of Hellboy drew his attention from the delicate creature he was steadying. "All grown up I see…"

"That voice-" Hellboy breathed out in confusion, knowing he'd encountered it somewhere before. He scanned the alleyway cautiously, unconsciously drawing the smaller male closer to him.

A bald man stepped out of the shadows, his cloaked form and pitch black sunglasses did nothing to mask his dangerous aura. "I sang the first lullaby you ever heard, my child. I ushered you into this world. I alone know your true calling, your true name."

Hellboy could feel the lithe arm of the man at his side tense, his eyes flicker from the dark man before him to his gun laying on the ground in front of him.. "Don't tell me," He released the young man from his grip, tail ushering the young man further behind himself. "It's Zeppo." He lunged for his hand cannon only to rear back sharply when Sammael landed in a crouch between himself and his gun.

The man smiled grimly. "I can see that you're still young and don't know your place." He inclined his head towards Sammael mouth still pressed into a grim yet patient smile, Hellboy took this moment to lunge yet again towards his gun "Teach him."

As his fingers grazed the weapon, Sammael's large thick tongue wrapped around his right arm, yellow bulbous sacks protruding from it, with a vicious tug Hellboy found himself on the ground, pain ripping through his arm. Gritting his teeth Hellboy squinted at his arm, he let out a snarl as his arm began to smoke and the tongue tightened and pulled.

The crack of a gunshot shook Hellboy out of his pain induced stupor, and his head whipped around to squint at the sight of the young angel standing strong and sure his wings spread out behind him, the street light casting a halo like glow about the young man; his pistol aimed at Sammael. He squeezed off two more shots, and Hellboy saw an amber liquid fly, and felt the tongue loosen from his arm as Sammael retreated with a squeal. Hellboy rolled away and darted behind the trash bin. The angel threw himself down behind the bin beside him seconds later, wings folded behind him and pressed against the grimy green surface.

Hellboy felt a surge of protection and worry rise up as he glanced about at Sammael; noting that his gun was gone, irritation surged above his previous feelings "What do you think you're doing?" He snarled turning back to reprimand the young winged man next to him only to find him holding up his gun.

He looked abashed, as Hellboy snatched the gun from his smaller hands. "Helping you—I just—" He stuttered as Hellboy pulled a new clip from one of his many coat pockets.

"No one ever helps me. It's my job." Hellboy replied, voice notably softer, though not without a grudging bite. He attempted to reload the weapon, only to cringe in pain as his arm spasmed. "Damn!" He thrust his gun at the young man next to him. "Okay here." Shoving the clip at him as well, he dug into his coat pocket and withdrew a bag with a round in it as well. He wiggled it in front of the young man between two fingers. "Then load this, it's a tracer round." Slim fingers snatched the bag from him. "Crack the pin. Load it." The brunette made to crack the pin when with a loud clang Sammael's tongue ripped through the dumpster between them. His wide brown eyes stared at the tongue for a moment before he lifted his large eyes to Hellboy's own amber ones. The tongue retracted before puncturing the dumpster again and again as the young man cracked the pin in the round, illuminating the head of it much like a chemical flare.

"Jeez…What the hell is that?" He inquired in a mildly hysterical tone, drawing Hellboy's attention, he glanced at the man then down at his arm. A large black bulbous stinger wriggled in an attempt to burrow into a large gash in Hellboy's arm, illuminated by the light from the tracer round.

He snarled and ripped it from his arm, throwing it to the ground he stood, crushing it with a squelch beneath his boot, as the man loaded the last round into the gun and handed it to him. "Lemme go ask…" He stepped out from behind the dumpster, relishing the feel of those large brown eyes trained on his form. Sammael's tongue wrapped around the muzzle of the gun as Hellboy leveled it at him. Quickly Hellboy fired off two shots, causing the retraction of the offending tongue.

Hellboy paused noting the green glow of the tracer round, Sammael leapt forward and Hellboy squeezed the trigger. The large creature flew back with a loud squeal and scrambled over the back alley wall. Hellboy charged after it launching over the wall and landing on the sidewalk behind it. He glanced up at the glowing trail of green ooze before striding down the sidewalk following the trail. A thud heralded the arrival of the brunette as he ran after him. Hellboy quickened his pace rounding a corner he snarled as Sammael leapt up onto the trailer of a loading truck, denting the top. The large creature glanced over its shoulder and gave a hiss in Hellboy's direction before disappearing over the other side.

Hellboy launched himself onto the cab of the loading truck, causing the driver to cuss loudly; He squinted into the crowded carnival square catching sight of Sammael as he pushed through the eager trick or treaters, leaving a wake of awed and shocked people behind him.

"Hey!" Hellboy glanced quickly over his shoulder at the young winged man "Wait! Wait!" Jumping off the cab Hellboy pushed through the crowd and into the street, gun drawn, Cars swerving around his massive form. John squeezed past the loading truck, his wings scraped against the alley wall. He darted out of the alley, past a few confused trick or treaters, attempting to discreetly tuck his gun into his torn jacket, "Excuse us!" he exclaimed distractedly darting out into the street after the hulking red demon.

A blaring horn caused him to pause in his crossing, he stared doe eyed at the oncoming car. Swerving at the last minute the vehicle clipped John, sending him flying to the ground, his pistol clattered in the other direction. He gave a sharp cry, and slowly staggered to his feet, cradling his right arm. The sound of another deeper sounding horn caught his attention and he stared dolefully into the oncoming headlights of the truck, only to have them obstructed by Hellboy's broad back.

Hellboy held out his stone hand to the oncoming truck, when it showed no indications of stopping he grit his teeth and reared back his fist, John winced drawing his injured arm closer to himself, "Red means stop!" he snarled as he plowed his fist into the hood of the truck, the force propelling the truck over their heads. Hellboy shook out his fist and turned to the stooped angel in the street, "Are you okay?" He inquired gruffly looking away as John glanced up with big tired brown eyes and nodded. "Good. Stay here." He turned on his heel and took off after Sammael.

John stared after the large red demon, breathing out heavily "Oh my god." He breathed out again, finally allowing the nights events to catch up to him. He stumbled out of the street "That was Hellboy." He blinked blearily, "Oh my god."

AN: So first chapter, cut it a bit short, but poor John is having a horrible night already. Read Review, give me your honest opinions por favor.