Chapter One: The Time Before

I was born Caroline Lynn Dewey, on the fourth of May twenty eight years ago. I grew up in a pretty normal home: one mother, one father, one younger brother, a house, a yard, two cars, a dog, and all the furnishings that came with it. My formative years were spent in a loving household, where our quirks were tolerated, and our talents were encouraged.

At least until my dad lost his job. When I was just entering high school, the economy freaked, and the company my dad worked at was forced to downsize. My dad was one of the cuts. He didn't take it so well. He had gone from a cushy upper management position to a jobless fifty year old man. Dad's had always had a few drinks, but after his lay-off, his drinking increased tenfold. My mum tried to keep us going, but we couldn't keep our house on her salary. Within a year, we had relocated to an apartment in a much seedier area of town, and were watching money like a woman on Weight Watchers counted calories. Dad's drinking and depression got to him. He left us soon after the move. We would hear from him every week at first, but after the divorce was finalized, we lost contact.

I was sixteen. I had managed to adjust to a new high school, a new home, no dad, my mom working almost constantly, and my own job as a McDonald's worker. I had grown used to my life, when Fate decided to throw another curveball my way.

If I had had a choice back then, I would have thrown it away as soon as I got it. But one can't chose what they have the ability to do, only what they do with the ability once they have it.

Necromancy. Mediumistic. Channeling. Clairvoyance.

All of those words could describe what I could do.

I saw my first spirit on my way to school, the first day of my junior year. She was standing at a corner, staring off into the distant. This was the corner that I waited for my bus. I stared at her for a moment, before I tried to start up a conversation.

"Hullo," She didn't look my way. I tried again. "Hullo?" Again no response. I sidled closer to her. "Hullo, I'm Carrie. What's your name?" That got her attention. Her head snapped to look at me, her eyes wide in shock. "What?? Have I got something on my face?" She shook her head slowly. "So what's your name?"

She mumbled something. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. Could you repeat that?"

"Sarah. My name's Sarah."

I grinned. "Well, it's nice to meet ya too! This your first day here?"

"Who are you talking to?" My brother had caught up with me, slouching his way along. Frederic was one of those rare people who didn't try to shorten an embarrassing name. It was always Frederic, never Fred or Freddy.

"I'm speaking to Sarah, she's knew here," I said to my brother, before turning my attention back to Sarah. She looked like she was trying to shrink into her boots.

My brother looked at me like I was insane. Perhaps I was. "Did you have too much sugar again sis? There's nobody there."

"I didn't have any sugar this morning, thank you very much. And Sarah's right there…" I gestured to where Sarah was. She shook her head. I blinked. "Whatever." I grumped.

The bus arrived soon after, and I saw Sarah everyday, before and after school, always waiting at that corner. No one else saw her. It was always an empty corner to them.

Things slowly started clicking together when I heard the stories at school, about the girl who was hit by a car. The story went that a girl had been waiting for the bus, when a guy had come up to her, and tried flirting with her. When she snubbed him, he got violent. Supposedly in the struggle, she got pushed out into the street and killed. They caught the man, and he was charged with something, I'm not sure what.

The next morning, I made sure to arrive early at my bus stop. Sarah was standing there, staring out at the bus stop. I shifted my feet uneasily, staring at her for a moment, before quickly turning away, only for my gaze to return a few seconds later. "Did it hurt?" I asked quietly. Her head tilted to stare into my eyes. She didn't have to say anything. The tears in her eyes were enough of an answer.

This was the beginning of the two years that I worked as a solo medium, trying to bring solace to those who had died, but had yet to move on. Sarah stayed with me, to help me for a while, but in time, she too rose to heaven.

I still miss her sometimes. But she's in a better place now, and I'm happy for her.

I didn't know who the Bureau was, until the later part of my solo career. I had been trying to help a newlywed pair move on, when I ran into it. It looked harmless enough, and the woman refused to move on until she had it.

It was only a necklace. How was I supposed to know it would bring so much trouble?

The necklace itself had been impounded in the newlyweds murder investigation. I hadn't known it at the time. So I wandered up to the police station. I was tolerated there. My mom, by some stroke of luck, had started dating again, and had been going steady with a cop for the past year or so. He let me come up to the station, as long as I behaved. And I did. Sometimes I had to help murdered people move on, and the cops had the best information. Not that I want to brag or anything. But anyways, Steve((Aka Mom's boyfriend)) let me in to, quote unquote, 'help sort files'.

It was really boring. For the first few hours or so, I found nothing. It wasn't until it was about time to leave that I found anything. I skimmed through the file, before I saw anything mentioning the necklace. It was some antique, from Rome or Egypt or some European place. The necklace looked like it would be easy enough to obtain. The dead woman's sister, Anne-Marie Taylor, had picked it up, along with the rest of the deceased's belongings.

I quickly copied down the address, before shutting the file and returning it to it's proper place. Not a moment too soon. Steve entered, to offer me a ride home. I accepted.

Hey, when you're eighteen and still don't own a car, you learn to accept the rides offered to you. As long as they were offers from someone you knew. Stranger danger n' stuff. Cliché, I know.

The ride home was semi-pleasant. A part of me still wanted my old Dad, but as I got to know Steve better, and saw how much my mom liked him, I slowly started to mellow. He was a nice guy. God knows how much he helped me in the past two years. There was still the occasional awkwardness between us, mainly when he tried over hard to be a father to me, or when I was PMSing, but meh. Could be worse.

He came in when he dropped me off, managing to stay for dinner. Not that I would blame him. Mom was a good cook.

Dinner was a quiet affair. It was just me, Mom and Steve. Frederic was off eating at his girlfriend's house. Probably writing depressing poetry with her too. I shuddered at the thought, before listening silently to what Mom and Steve were talking about.

"Too many weird murders lately," Steve complained around a mouthful of lasagna. "FBI's become involved. Stupid idiots."

I never could comprehend the antagonism that existed between the local police department and the FBI. It was a rivalry that predated my time. But I started paying close attention when my mom spoke.

"It's Anne I feel sorry for. Her sister was one of the ones killed… and just married too…" She sighed.

My interest was piqued. Was this the same Anne that I was going to have to figure out how to talk to?? And get that necklace from??

"I should send her a casserole… something… she did so much for us when Dan left…"

Dan, my real father. I ignored the reference to my father, and the shot of pain it sent through my heart. This was my chance. "If you make a casserole, I could take it over to her tomorrow, after school. She lives on Lake, right?"

My mom's face brightened. "You would? Oh that's so sweet…" I tried not to make a face, but I must have, because my mom started laughing. "Always trying to be so tough. You don't have to be. It's all right to show a soft side."

"Mooom…" I whined. "I'm offering to help…"

She laughed. "I know, I know!! And I appreciate the offer. I wish I could deliver it myself…"

"I don't mind. I don't think she will either. You know, thought that counts n' all that sh…"

I cut myself off as my mom sent me a look. "What?" Her glare intensified. "Sorry. Jeeze." I rose to my feet, scooping my plate up. "I'm going to my room. I have a bit of homework left to look over." I began to walk into the kitchen. "No necking when I'm gone," I teased, disappearing into the kitchen, laughs echoing behind me.

My room at the time, was small and messy, covered in books, old science projects, and memorabilia collected from my excursions with the Dead. Mom often expressed her surprise at my ability to find anything in my room. I never quite got her incredulity. I found stuff easily.

Moving my crud around and out from under my bed, I pulled out the Box. The Box… held the stuff I brought with me. I had learned the hard way that not all spirits are peaceful, and sometimes, even the most tranquil looking ghosts are capable of going berserk in less than a moment. Pulling the lid off the Box, I fingered through the contents. A silver crucifix. A rosary that used to belong to my grandma. A bible. A short silver knife that I had gotten cheaply at a dollar store. A notebook of all the ghosts that I had met, and their status. A pouch filled with garlic, five-finger grass, cinnamon and echinacea. I shifted through all of this, plus other makeshift equipment I used in my exploits. It shouldn't be so hard to get the necklace… I shifted the rosary aside, along with the notebook. The situation didn't require the crucifix(Crucifix act like a concentrated form of a rosary; I had learned that when I had had to help an old priest move on). The dagger would come with. One just never knew when it might be necessary. Better proactive then reactive right??

The necessities set aside for tomorrow, I got into my pajamas and went to bed. There was nothing more that I could do that evening.

The next day crawled by. My Physics class seemed to be endless, and my Criminal Justice class dragged on forever. The rest of my classes went slowly as well. I think it was one of the few times that I was glad when the end day bell rang. I shot up out of my seat and rushed to my locker. Within seconds, my locker was open and I was shoving my books and school stuff into my backpack. I barely said goodbye to my friends as I left the school and clambered onto the bus. I wanted to get going.

The casserole was where my mom had said it would be. I had dumped my backpack the moment I had gotten into the house. I would do my homework later. There was something more important to do now. I wrapped my rosary around my wrist like a bracelet, forcing my notebook and dagger into one of the larger pockets in my cargo pants. The pouch of herbs went in too, along with a pinch of salt. Picking up the casserole, I peered at the address that I had gotten yesterday. 654 Lake Street. That wasn't too far. Twenty minute walk at most.

It seemed to take longer than I thought. Soon enough, I was ringing the doorbell. I shifted uneasily. A part of my wished I could deal as easily with the living as I did with the dead. I always felt so awkward. A voice rang out, and seconds later a blonde woman with make up running down her face(Most likely due to excessive crying) answered the door. I froze for a moment, before managing to stammer out. "Uh, h-hello. Miss Taylor, right?" The lady nodded. "I'm Carrie…"

"Susanne's daughter?" She cut me off before I could continue. Or answer her question for that matter. "Did your mom send that?? That is so sweet… oh, how rude of me. Come in, come in." She stepped back out of the entrance way. I slowly stepped into the house. It was dark. And cluttered. And looked like it hadn't been cleaned in days. "This way…" I followed after her as she wove through corridors of her house. "Your mother is such a kindly soul… I miss my darling Heather. I can't believe someone could just kill her so callously." A sob. "I hope they catch them. I hope they do…" We emerged into a kitchen. There was an elderly gentlemen in the room as well, sitting at the table. "Just, set it down on the counter dearie…"

I nodded, moving slowly, trying to study the man. He nodded gravely to me. "Hello, young lady," he said politely, his voice gruff.

I blinked. "It's Carrie, not young lady. Please." The last part was added on belatedly. I couldn't remember the last time I had been called young lady. I had always been Carrie. Or, if I was in trouble, Caroline Leigh Dewey.

The man's eyes twinkled. "Ah. My apologies. I am Professor Broom." I think that's what he said. I would hate for my last name to be a cleaning instrument. A pang of pity went through my heart as I contemplated what his peers must've called him when he was a kid.

"S'all right," I replied, setting down the casserole. "Pleasure to meet you sir." A wink of gold caught my eye. "What is that?" I asked curiously, although I was pretty sure what it was. I slowly approached the table, a part of me not wanting to get closer, while the other part of me informed myself that I had to.

"It was my sister's necklace… Professor Broom wanted to see it. He's with the FBI, don't cha know…" Miss Taylor babbled on, her speech punctuated by the occasional sob or sniffle. A part of me listened, but my eyes concentrated more on the necklace. There was something off about it…

"Do you see something?" The Professor's words almost made me jump out of my skin. I just barely mastered the reflex.

"Just admiring the necklace," I said sheepishly. "It's rather pretty." And rather weird. The necklace was giving off the strangest aura… I wouldn't want to leave it in Miss Taylor's hands, even if her sister didn't need it. That thing is dangerous. Nevertheless I had to get it, for Heather and her husband.

I reached out, tapping the center designing. "It looks old…"

Growling. I suppressed a gulp, and slowly turned my head around. I hoped that wasn't…

Oh. Shit.

There was a dog thing sitting on the counter, glaring at me. My hand unconsciously hovered over the necklace. The growling grew louder. I lowered my hand.

Anne obviously could not see it. "Do… do you want to see a picture of my sister? She was the most perfect…"

I shoved her out of the way. Not a moment to soon. The dog thing had jumped, lunging for me. If I hadn't pushed her, Anne would have ended up with dog thing claws in her back. Instead, I ended up with a load of claws in my arm.

I cussed, shoving the dog back. "Get Miss Taylor out of here," I begged the Professor, snatching up the necklace, all the while trying to keep my eyes focused on dog ghost. I heard the chair scratched against the floor, and the Professor say something, but I ignored it. Instead, I dangled the necklace in front of me. "Want a pretty necklace poochy?? Want it??" I was well aware I must look insane. I forced my body to move, so that my back was to the door. "Well, let's play fetch poochy…" I jingled it one more time, before doing a 180 and running. I heard the dog thing's claws scratch against the floor, and the loud barks following after me. My gambit payed off. It was after the necklace.

Passing through the back door, I slammed it behind me in an attempt to slow it down. No go. Definitely some sort of ghost then. My feet scrambled as I forced myself to pick up the pace. This was not going as planned… was this thing what had killed Heather and her husband? A vague part of my brain remembered the medical examiner's report mentioning something about clawing… Blood loss was not helping. The thing's claws had torn a good part of my arm, and now I was bleeding like a struck pig.

Almost there. I forced myself through a narrow gap between hedges, the plants grabbing at my clothes. Great, another outfit ruined. Mom was going to throw a fit.

I slid to a halt, turning to face the way I had come. "Carrie?" An ethereal voice called out.

"Not now Heather," I replied, switching the necklace to the hand of my wounded arm and drew my dagger with my uninjured one. "Something wicked this way comes."

And I'm cheesy. No wonder no one ever wants to date me.

Barely a minute had past before the ghost dog thingy came howling into the clearing. "Hi poochy…" I stated loudly and clearly. "Do you want this?" It howled. The hair rose on the back of my neck. What had I gotten myself into? "Well, you're not getting it…"

I barely dodged the thing's lunge. I felt the breeze created as it passed right by me. I reacted as quickly as I could, plunging the dagger into the thing's back. A howl of pain, before the thing reversed quicker than I could follow.

I let out a howl of pain as I felt its teeth sink into my leg. Retaliating, I yanked my dagger out and stabbed it back into the ectoplasm that formed the thing's back, again and again and again. My legs felt like they were on fire. It seemed that for each blow I dealt, the dog thing bit and clawed at me.

We collapsed at almost the same time. I had sunk to my knees, tears streaming down my face from the pain. The world was going fuzzy. I vaguely saw the dog thing a few feet from me, still.

"Carrie?? Carrie??" Heather's voice penetrated the haze. I dumbly held up the necklace for her.

"I brought it for you. Go now, in peace." I pressed it into her hands. I didn't need the stupid necklace.

"Carrie you're dying!" Heather's panic sunk into my skull. I had to fight the urge to freak out.

"I'll be fine. Now, you and Jack, you guys can move on right?" My words were starting to slur.

I never got my answer. In the corner of my vision, I saw a red hulk crash through the bushes. My head snapped over to look at him. Red… big raised circles above his eyes… a cigar dangling from his mouth. I goggled for a moment, before I passed out.

I woke up five days later, my legs and arm swathed in bandages, my entire body aching. I blinked wearily. "Welcome back Miss Carrie."

My gaze slowly traveled over to where the figure of Proffessor Broom sat. I had expected my mother… my brother. He must have seen the disappointment on my face. "Relax," he said in his gruff voice, "Your mother and brother were forced home by the nurse. The hospital staff didn't want them to overtax themselves."

That made sense. I wanted to say something, but my voice came out as a croak.

The Professor smiled understandingly. "They weren't the only ones worried."

My eyes traveled over to where Heather stood, almost completely transparent. I forced a smile onto my face. She floated closer to me. "I'm sorry…" she whispered. I tried to shake my head, but she held out a hand to stop me. "I knew of the creature… the scion of Anubis that lived within the necklace… and I used you to get it away from my sister. I did not want her to share my fate. I am… so glad you're alive… Will you forgive me?"

A thread of anger boiled in heart, but it faded the moment I saw Heather's eyes. It was the same look that had been in my father's eyes when he begged for forgiveness after drinking too much… I couldn't do anything to her. She was dead… my anger would be wasted. A sigh escaped my lips, before I nodded slowly. A dark fragment of me would always resent Heather, but the rest would be grateful for her actions.

Heather's aura brightened, a smile gracing her lips. She looked positively angelic. "Thank you… so much…" I watched silently as she grew brighter and brighter, before the light was too painful. My eyes snapped shut, fluttering several times before staying open and focusing on the Professor. He had watched the entire thing quietly.

"You are a very special girl," he stated softly. "And quite brave."

"Don't feel brave. Feel stupid," I managed to get out.

He laughed. "Perhaps. Have you been doing this for a while? Working as a medium."

The man had eyes that stared right into my soul. I felt that if I lied, I would be betraying a trust I hadn't known even existed until that moment.

The Professor was just like that. I slowly held up two fingers.

"Two months?" I shook my head. "Years??" I nodded. "Impressive… I'm surprised you haven't been found out yet."

A strangled noise escaped from my throat. The Professor chuckled. "The Bureau usually finds mediums quite quickly. Paranormal activity fluctuates when there's a medium in area. And to have escaped notice for so long… that is certainly admirable… would you consider…"

I must have fallen asleep again, for I remember nothing of what he said next. The next time I awoke, I was greeted my mother and brother, with Steve hanging out in the doorframe. There was a large amount of sobbing(Mom), scolding(Brother), and acquiescing to demands(me). My mom told me that I would be able to walk, Thank the Lord, but I would have a slight limp for the rest of my life. Nothing the Doctors could do anything about it. I would also have scars where the 'Mad Dog' had attacked me.

Hey, I was alive right??

I was out of hospital within two weeks, and back in school in three. I had a month and counting left in my senior year, and senioritis was kicking in bad. Luckily, my impromptu hospital stay had affected that. I was still using a cane to walk around, and had walked a block to sit at a park bench. I was pleased to recognize a familiar face. "Hello Professor!" I called out, waving slightly. I watched as he made his way over to me.

"Miss Carrie," he said gravely, sitting down next to me. "How are you doing?"

I grimaced slightly. "I'm living, and I'm limping about. That's enough for me."

"And for the future?"

I glanced over at him. "The future?" I repeated. "What do you mean?"

"Let me tell you something, Miss Carrie. Your country could use your talents. Mediums, true mediums, are a rather rare breed. And you're a very strong medium…"

I glanced over at him. "You won't tell my mom?" He looked at me. "She doesn't buy into it. I tried talking to her about it once, and she told me that she thought it was a hoax. I don't want to hurt her…"

He laughed. I must have scowled, because he sobered up almost immediately. "If that is your wish."

"Just what do you want me to do? Because I've got college to worry about. And other stuff like that…" I absently ran a hand through my hair. I didn't want to get into something that would screw over my future.

The Professor leaned forward. "Let me tell you about the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense…"

And that's how I joined the Bureau. I attended a computer college while working my days for the Bureau. My brother knew, I told him before I left, and my mom thought I was working for Professor Broom. Bruttenholm, actually, but everybody called him Professor Broom.

It took me a year or two to get used to it, but I eventually did. Liz was a nice girl, and Abe was pretty decent too, but Hellboy and I never got along. It had been him who had rescued me after my encounter with the dog ghost thing. I refused to call it a scion of Anubis.

I worked hard, and was sent on missions regularly. Time seemed to fly. I had earned a bachelor's degree in biology, with a minor in Paranormal phenomena before I knew it, and suddenly, I was twenty four, and about to embark on one of the biggest missions of my life.

I had thought the dog thing was bad, but the Hound of Resurrection was worse. And so were the people who brought him into this world.

Oh. Joy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing… except Carrie.

Author's Note: Hi! I just got into Hellboy recently, and I really wanted to write a story for the community… and um, yeah, that's how Medium was born. If I get something wrong in this canon, feel free to tell me. I would certainly appreciate it. I plan to have the story follow both movie plots, plus bridge out into an original arc. Hopefully. I'm also dreadfully sorry for the lack of Hellboy characters in this first chapter, but I wanted to get Carrie's backstory out of the way. I do hope she doesn't seem to be too Mary-Sueish…

The words Carrie uses to describe her power… necromancy, mediumistic, clairvoyant… can all be used to describe the ability to talk to the dead, albeit each goes about it in a slightly different way.

Ahem… I thank you for reading. All reviews will be appreciated, and flames will be read… and then used to warm myself. It's winter here, and I'm cold.

Thank you, and have a nice day!!