A/n: Got inspiration and I used it to make this pancake of a fiction. Besides making pancakes I really was inspired by the author Fanficoholic and the first two chapters of their story Big Brother. Hope you like it.
Italic sentences - visions
Warnings: General AU-ness.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter.
"Exorcizamus te, Omnis Immundus Spiritus, Omnis Satanica Potestas
Ten year old Harry stared wide eyed at the house he grew up in as it went up in flames. He didn't know what was going on… no he knew what was going on just slightly confused. He winced when a particularly painful sting went through his chest and he brought up his hand reluctant to release his nearly five year old baby brother Dean. They were huddled in the back seat, the engine of the Impala was humming as Harry had turned it on by the orders of his father that if he didn't come out of the house in ten minutes he was to drive straight to Bobby's.
Luckily he saw the figure of John running towards the car with two minutes to spare. Harry eased a shaking Dean from his side and strapped him in the seat-belt a habit he picked up from his mother seeing as his father was to careless to think of "bothersome things" before strapping himself in as well with his baby-baby brother Sammy formerly called Samuel but it was a group decision that Dean had raised that the name was too big for someone so small. He wrapped one arm around Dean bring him as close as possible and another around the chubby tummy of baby Sam.
Harry would deny it until he was on his deathbed, but he was scared. He knew that despite the emotionless façade his father currently wore; John Winchester was frightened just as much as his three sons in the back seat of his speeding 1967 Chevy Impala. Harry winced and grunted softly as another pain stung even harder in his chest. The pains appeared since the yellow-eyed demon grabbed him and forced a handful of its blood down his throat. He didn't tell his father, not yet anyway as it was probably nothing important and the last thing he needed was to worry his already frazzled father was something irrelevant. He smiled softly when Sam gurgled in his lap, the small head angling itself so that big brown eyes could stare at him. Harry's smiled curved into a frown as he wiped a smudge from the corner of Sam's mouth. His eyes widened and his heart sped up as he remembered the reason why the whole incident happened and his green eyes looked up to his father and found that the man was watching him from the rear-view mirror.
"I know" John's voice was rough with emotion that he refused to show and express, making Harry's heart lurch in sympathy and sorrow.
"Will he be okay? I mean-"Harry asked as he looked back down at the happily gurgling baby on his lap.
John swallowed and turned his eyes back on the road as he took a turn. Harry bowed his head and looked down as his question went unanswered.
"Whadda talking 'bout 'Arry?" Dean asked as he looked up from his brother's side voice slightly muffled.
Harry smiled softly and pressed his forehead against his younger brother's head.
"Nothing munchkin, you can sleep for a bit if you want, I promise that'll wake you when we get to Bobby's okay?"
Dean scrunched up his face, sniffing out the obvious lie from his brother before he conceded to the request his hazel-green eyes closing almost immediately. Harry watched as Dean's breathing evened out and the lips he got from their mother opened slightly with soft snores escaping. He knew that his brother was dead tired- hell he was too but it was his duty as the oldest brother to watch out for the younger two. It became his responsibility the moment they came home from the hospital, before his mother died and the minute he saw the dark look in his father's eyes that promised retribution. His mother had always said that justice was just another word for revenge. Squeezing Sam and Dean closer to him Harry gazed at the back of his father sadly before they gazed as the flying scenery outside of the window.
Near Sioux Falls, South Dakota – Bobby Singer's Home
Dean groaned and pushed away the probing hand, his face scrunching up in annoyance as the hand refused to leave him alone.
"Dean you have to wake up now, we're at Bobby's now Munchkin. Common open-up your eyes Dean" Dean blinked slowly as the image of his oldest brother's face came into view.
Harry smiled in amusement as Dean pouted and yawned widely before sliding from the car seat and out the door where his father stood with the emergency duffle-bags he repacked every month or so. A lesson that was drilled into him. John was about to throw one of the heavy bags at Dean but Harry intercepted and placed the still sleep Sam in Dean's arms taking the bag from his father. John gave Harry a long look before turning and walking up to the house. Bobby was already on the porch, shotgun in hand and four shot glasses on the middle-step. John quickly downed his and Harry soon followed. Dean with his hands full of sleeping baby Sam was given his by Harry who then in turn carefully fed Sam who was stirring awake from Dean's less than graceful walking, after all Sam was heavy baby for his age.
Bobby lowered his gun but didn't step from the entrance way until John dropped the bags and leaned his head on Bobby's shoulder. From where he stood Harry could see the shiver that went through his father's body and the subtle shaking of his shoulders. Bobby heaved a sigh and placed the shotgun to lean on against the porch ledge before he wrapped John in a manly hug giving Harry the sign to go inside of the house. Harry pulled Dean closer to him and gave the two men the privacy they needed. It took a lot for a man like his father to cry and in Harry's eyes he had more respect for John than he had had before.
Uncle Bobby's house was big not as big as theirs had been but big enough.
"Sit on the couch and don't move Dean. You know how Uncle Bobby gets when you go messing with his books and stuff" Harry warned the nearly five year old that pouted but nodded in understanding.
Sam giggled and playfully batted at Dean's face causing the boy to smirk and for the moment forget about his oldest brother. Harry took his distraction to place the duffle-bag in the room where he and Dean usually slept when they came over to Bobby for a visit. Harry rubbed his left eye and yawned behind his hand. The bed looked awfully inviting but he knew that he couldn't go down for a quick nap just yet not when his father was crying his eyes out on Bobby's shoulder and if Dean was left unattended for a certain period of time things tended to get…messy.
The oldest of the Winchester sons sighed and was about to turn to exit the room when a pain, a crippling pain caught him mid-turn. Harry felt his legs buckle beneath him and his chest tightened barely leaving room for breath to escape and come in. Harry dug his nails in the hardwood floor as he tried to stifle his cries. The sting seemed hotter now and his lungs burned and constricted his breathing. Distantly he heard the unbalanced sound of footsteps, too light to be either his father or uncle.
"'Arry?" Harry panicked when he heard Dean's voice full of hidden fright and soft. After his voice came the garbled babbling of Sam.
Harry opened his mouth to tell Dean to not come any closer and that he was okay but instead he let out a cry of pain as white hot agony raced through his chest. Harry wheezed trying to regain some of his breath. His eyes stung with tears that he tried to hold back futilely.
"'Arry! 'Arry what's the matter" Dean placed Sammy on the bed and ran over to his brother hesitating only for a moment before turning him over and onto his back.
"Get…Da…d" his eyes closed in discomfort and he focused on breathing no matter on hard it was. Every-time he breathed more pain came. Dean eyes widened but didn't move from his position beside his big brother.
The nearly five year old only moved when Harry didn't open his eyes again and his chest stopped moving.
"'Arry? 'Arry common wake-up!" Dean yelled and shook at his shoulder. His bottom lip trembled and tears rolled down his cheeks before Dean pushed himself away from his motionless brother.
"Dad…" he whimpered.
"Daddy!" Dean screeched causing Sam to look up at his brother startled before he too began to cry.
"Daddy!" he screamed again this time he heard the thundering footsteps of both his father and uncle.
Within seconds both men were in the room, guns in hand and eyes frenzied. Dean closed his eyes, not liking the stillness of his brother, not liking the way he didn't draw in any breath. Not liking the way his father called Harry's name over and over and over without receiving a reply.
John had heard the soft footsteps of his children as they ascended the stairs and then the door closing behind them. Bobby patted his back as he allowed the tears to flow for the first time since Mary died. John choked slightly when a sob was caught in his throat. Bobby grunted but stayed silent and only stepped back when John began to pull away, his head bowed and eyes dark and glazed with tears.
Bobby watched as the man in-front of him seemed to fight inner demons before he gave in and spoke.
"It killed her…" he whispered.
Bobby didn't speak knowing that John was finished. His brown eyes following every twitch the man made.
"It had yellow eyes. I've never seen one with yellow eyes before Bobby! Never! It was strong…" John clenched his fist, his blunt nails digging in the flesh of his palm.
"It had her…it pinned her to the ceiling Bobby… it had my Mary against the ceiling and it gutted her…"
Bobby grimaced as John began to chuckle with dark mirth his large hand going to run through his brown hair.
"Ya know that wasn't the worse part? But he burned her right in-front of Harry and Sam. Dean hadn't seen it thankfully but Harry did and I sure as hell did too. The bastard gave Sam some of his blood. It was all over his mouth when I got there but the fucker already did the deed."
"Besides us and the fucking demonic animal? No. It's all gone" John's voice was low as he seemed to finally realise that the house his children were born in, that he and his family lived. Their every possession with the exception of the clothing in the duffle-bag was all they had. It was all that remained.
The silence that descended upon them was broken by a scream. "Dean!" John reached for the gun that was tucked in his waist-band and Bobby grabbed his shotgun and ran after his friend.
John's heart pounded in his chest his mind racing. What if the bastard had found a way in the house and came to finish the job of killing his children? He turned the corner to find Dean with Sam huddled up against the leg of the bed before his eyes fell upon his oldest.
"Harry!" he dropped to the ground and placed his ear to the boy's chest. "Bobby!" The oldest male in the room ripped open the white tee-shirt of the ten year old.
John stared in horror at the unmoving chest of his oldest son before he he quickly pressed his mouth against Harry's, and began to blow deep breaths. He pulled back and counted to ten as he pressed down with his hands flat on top of each other on Harry's chest.
"Harry! Son open your pretty eyes for Daddy!" John pleaded.
He saw gunfire, felt the backlash of the weapon sting and burn his skin, scenery streaking past them as they watched it from within the Impala.
Bobby pulled Dean in his arms and the child gladly went his tears and snot giving the only Singer a wet spot on the shirt.
"What happened boy?" he asked the middle son of the Winchesters. Dean hiccupped and shook his head.
"Common kid, I know you got more mouth than that. Speak up" Bobby pushed.
Dean whimpered when he heard his father call Harry's name again, the rough voice bordering on desperation this time around.
It was cold, and he realised that they were sleeping in a motel room, two beds, one for him and the other for Sam and Dean to share. He had given his covers to his brothers when he noticed that Dean was shivering. John was nowhere to be seen and the Impala missing.
"I dunno! I-I was o-on the c-couch with S-Sammy a-a-and t-then…then I h-heard this s-sound…s-so I went a-and looked an' 'Arry was on the g-ground!"
Dean wailed and buried his head in Bobby's chest his small hands hugging Sam like a teddy bear.
"Harry! Please, please son. Common breathe for daddy! Common!" John's voice cracked with emotion and Bobby shook his head.
Losing two of his precious people in the same day wasn't easy. He turned and looked at John. To lose a wife and son the same day…
He saw John shouting at Sam, practically screaming at the boy who couldn't be anymore than seven when he got the description of the beasts wrong that their father was forcing them to memorize. Dean sat quiet on his bed, looking but not saying anything with his shoulders hunched and posture almost submissive. Sam began to cry.
John gasped and pulled the small body of his first-born in his arms squeezing him tightly as he buried his face in the slender soft neck and hard collarbone.
It wasn't fair…
They were being attacked by a creature that had fangs, it's eyes a bloody red, and it was quick. Dean was injured and Sam was screaming for their father to help. John was busy trying to yank an old book from out of stone. Sam picked up the gun Dean had dropped and fired, killing the creature that turned back into it's human form, a small girl no older than Sam himself who stared at him with empty brown eyes.
It wasn't fucking fair! John breathed in Harry's scent uncaring of the tears that slide from his eyes and onto the slightly chilled flesh of his first. "Please God no…not my Harry too"
"Not my baby boy too…Please you righteous son of a bitch! Not my Jamie, not my baby boy!" John's cries resounded in the room as he rocked the still body of Harry.
They were being moved from another school again, the new friends they made were forgotten as John found another clue, another hunt, another reason for living that didn't include his children.
"Da… ad" the Patriarch of the Winchester family reared back and looked down into the glazed eyes of his child.
All he felt was pain.
Harry's dull green eyes looked at his father before moving to the ceiling and the room around them. John pulled back and laid a heavy hand on the ten year olds back when he noticed the lack of the rise and fall of his chest.
"You have to take a big breath for me son" he told the nearly unresponsive boy. Bobby had turned; eyes wide as he stared at the miracle that was Harrison James Winchester. John whooped when Harry drew in his first shaky breath which sounded like Sam's baby rattle. "Give me another one Harry! Another big breath for Daddy" John prodded and didn't stop until Harry breathed at least a bit normally.
Bobby sighed and shook his head. Bloody Idjits. Worrying him like an old maid.
"Da… ad." Harry wheezed out when John lifted him up slowly and securely in his arms cradling him to his chest. He could hear Dean calling out his name and Sam babbling something as well but his father just kept walking.
"Wait Dad! I wanna come with you!" Dean's voice yelled from back in the bedroom. Harry then heard Bobby telling his little brother no and that they'd be back soon.
"Da… ad" Harry called again when he was placed in the front seat of the car and seat-belted in tightly so that he could only move away from the seat a few inches.
"Don't speak Harry, save your breath okay. I'm taking you to the hospital" John started the engine and reversed out of the Salvage Yard and was soon on the road.
"Hos…pi…al?" his wheezing was becoming more pronounced and John placed his large hand on top of his son's shaggy hair.
"I told you to calm down Harry! Please just, save your breath okay. I'll answer all you questions when I get you some help" John said the word help with a bitter reluctance. He tended to avoid all hospitals unless the situation was dire. Harry being dead for over three minutes and wheezing worse than a drug addict was what he called a dire situation with capital 'D'.
Harry nodded and leaned into the warmth of the car seat, his eyes closing slightly before John shouted his name startling him awake. "No sleeping until we get you checked out"
Harry looked at the grim expression on his father's' face and nodded again. His body felt strange, like it wasn't his to own. His skin felt tight and his throat and chest hurt. His eyes were stuffy and his ears were ringing. The palm of his hands itched and the soles of his feet tingled unpleasantly. Not that he was going to tell John Winchester that. He had no desire to die while speeding. The man was already freaking out and the car went over the speed limit by twenty.
Harry answered the nurse's questions with a nod or shake of his head since he had been manhandled into a breathing mask. It felt weird around his mouth but with one look from John he gave in and let the brunette nurse place the transparent mask over his nose and mouth. He had watched for a moment as it fogged up and then cleared and had noticed as well how easier he was able to breathe. The doctor had checked his vitals, breathing, lungs, given him an x-ray, took his blood, temperature… by the end of it Harry felt tired enough to fall asleep. After he had come from the x-ray the doctor had pulled his father outside of the room to speak. Harry would bet the money he had saved for the last seven years that they were talking about him.
He jumped when he felt a slight sting in his arm and looked at the nurse with wide eyes. The nurse smiled in apology and brushed back his hair before checking the IV bags next to his bed and then left the room. Harry had watched her leave through blurry eyes and he soon found himself floating in darkness before the fire took over his dreams of a yellow-eyed demon.
John dragged a hand over his face and rested against the wall. The doctor eyed him in sympathy.
"What the hell is wrong with my kid?" The doctor cleared his throat and glanced around himself to see many nurses and other doctors walking the hall. These type of parents were the most difficult to handle in these sort of situations.
"I and several other of my colleagues believe it to be C.O.P.D or Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. Some of the links to how he developed this seeing as how he doesn't smoke and there is no sign of alpha-1-antitrypsin deficiency in either of your blood work and the only solutions could be long time exposure to chemicals or very severe exposure to polluted air and even these two would take several more years to cause COPD not ten years as it is a slow-working disease that appears in adults not children. We…we admittedly were at a lost and COPD could be the only thing that is even marginally close to the reaction and damage that has been dealt to his lungs."
John stared at the man who was rambling and speaking words that sounded as foreign and utterly ridiculous as a 'good demon'.
"How much will those treatments cost?" John asked.
The doctor blinked and ran through his notes before looking back at John, a nervous look on his face.
"Well… the damage to his lungs is extensive and-"
"How much!" John interrupted. He was tired and wasn't in any mood for a pussy foot doctor taking pity on him.
"Over six hundred for the medication alone, which has to be renewed every four to seven weeks-, depending on how much he uses them but because he is a child you will probably receive two packages for the price of one until he is sixteen or eighteen years of age depending on the state you're in." the doctor squeaked.
"And the treatment itself?"
"I-I-I don't know, maybe over eighteen hundred every appointment!" the doctor said quickly.
John nodded and pushed his way into the room where his son was. Money wasn't much of a problem and the life of his baby boy was worth every penny. John pulled the chair that for once was comfortable and not plastic over to the side of the bed, his large hand grabbing Harry's much smaller one in comparison. It was slightly cold; not because of the fans that were on the ceiling but because his body was still adjusting from coming back from the dead.
John squeezed the chilly hand tighter in his and brought it to his lips, placing a kiss on the knuckles there as he watched the slow rising and falling of the chest that didn't move before. The mask fogged and cleared as Harry took slightly strained breaths and the heart monitor beep every now and then taking count of how many beats his heart gave. John's brown eyes glared down at the sticky pads on Harry's chest before closing his eyes. For the first time in nearly a quarter of a horrible day John Winchester slept.
Room 129 ICU Ward
John jumped awake and leapt from the bed his hand reaching for his gun before he realised just where he was. Harry stared at him wide eyed with an understanding look on his face that was smothered by the blatant amusement that played on his face. John huffed and tucked his gun back in the band of his pants securely before taking a seat back in the chair. He groaned and rubbed at his eyes before giving his son a full once over. The mask wasn't on his face but instead in his hand. John grabbed the small hand and squeezed it internally cheering that it was warm now and not chilly like death passed over it. Harry himself looked more alert and his chest rose and fell easily with a hitch in the breathing every six breaths or so.
"The doctor said that the little hitch in my breathing will be permanent until my lungs fully heal over" Harry told his father reading him clearly.
John grunted and rubbed his arm in the pants before looking at it to see a small white piece of medical bandage taped on. He glared at it before glaring at his son who looked slightly guilty.
"You were tired Papa, so I gave them permission. Sorry"
"You gave them permission?"
"You would've acted like a mule if they had asked you, so I gave them permission to do it instead" Harry intoned.
"Who the hell gave you permission child to call me a mule?" John asked a tick twitching above his eye.
"Mom did" Harry smiled causing John to swallow heavily.
"You're going to be looking for it until it's dead aren't you dad"
John raised an eyebrow at the statement phrased as a question before nodding.
"Are you going to be dragging us along as well?"
"Why ask questions when you already know the answer?"
"Why be so stubborn when you know you can't win?"
John snorted and shook his head.
"Just promise me something Dad. That you aren't going to teach Dean and Sam until they're ready. That was the deal you made to Mom. I told you that I wanted to learn and now you gotta keep your promise."
"No way! Harry-"
"Promise! You can't break your promise to her now Dad not now! She would be heartbroken if she found out that Dean picked up a gun on his fifth birthday and Sam on his as well! It was make her soul want to come back and haunt you! You know how angry she would be!"
"No. You're never too young to learn Harry. You weren't and they won't be" John's voice was hard as he let go of Harry's hand and stood.
"Just because she's dead doesn't mean you have…to die…too!"
"Harry-" John stepped forward when the boy threw the covers from his body and attempted to stand, pulling the wire connected to machines with him.
"No! She died for a… reason what's…yours! To get…revenge?! You're…gonna throw… us…away…for … revenge!"
"Harry put your mask back on!" John pushed the struggling boy back onto the bed and fumbled for the mask when Harry's face furrowed in pain and his breathing began to revert to how it was back at Bobby's.
The machines beeped loudly and continued even when the mask was firmly over his mouth and nose. A moment later the doctor from before along with three nurses barged into the room.
"Mr. Aframian! Is everything alright, the light for this room turned red so I assumed the worse"
John waved him off. "Harry was just getting a little worked up. Nothing to worry about"
Harry took the mask off of his face and gave the doctor and nurses an apologetic look, his green eyes and baby looking face doing the trick. The doctor back out with a warning to John and Harry about the dangers of doing such things too soon. John slumped back in the chair and quickly placed his hand over Harry's and brought them both to rest on his son's stomach when the boy reached for the mask again to take it off clearly intending to finish their argument.
"Don't…Look Harry. I know what I promised but I… I just can't. I can't accept the fact that some evil satanic son of a bitch got into my home and killed your mother. My wife! I can't!"
Harry used his other hand and pulled the mask from over his mouth. Swallowing twice before speaking.
"I don't expect you to Dad…never would expect you… to just forget about Mom… and what… that thing did to her… I'm just asking you… to keep your promise… to her. When Dean and Sam… are ready then… you can train them… but please Papa… let them… be kids… for a bit more… Please…"
Harry placed the mask back on and took deep breathes his eyes closing and his body sinking into the mattress and pillows in exhaustion. John watched as his first born drifted between slumber and awake before he finally succumbed to the drugs that were meant for this kind of situation.
John sighed and raked his hand over his face again before settling back in the chair. God he needed some coffee. Many cups of fucking strong black coffee.
Harry stared at his father from where he laid on the bed, his mind going a mile a minute as he tried to sort through the new influx of information he had just been presented. Harry knew his father, he knew that the man was stubborn and strong willed, not bad qualities but in this case, those characteristics wouldn't do him any good. Harry had a vision in disguise as an attack, bits and pieces of images filtered in and out as they rushed past in a sequence that didn't make sense until he thought about it. Things that would happen in future under John's guidance, under his care. Where the visions came from he had no idea, his thoughts were still muddled from the effect of the new dosage of drugs that the nurse administered but he would use them.
Harry would never tell his father, would never tell him what bad things he saw, what he witnessed him do the Sam and Dean to in his mind's eyes, the mind games and the hurt both boys experienced from his neglect and single mindedness for revenge. He wouldn't tell him anything, but as their big brother, he would do something about it. He would change the course of his brothers future, even if that meant going against their father and erasing him from their lives.
Whether it be permanently or temporarily, would be entirely up for debate.
Harry grunted when the wind was knocked out of him by Dean and happy high pitched gurgles came from Sam. He smiled and hugged back Dean even when John barked at the boy to be careful with his older brother.
"'Arry! You're okay now right! No more hurts right?" Dean asked his eyes wide showing his concern. Harry ran his hand through Dean's hair. This is what he wanted to protect for a while more. Innocence. He knew that he couldn't forever, but as their big-brother he had to try his best.
"Soon buddy, real soon. No promises kay?" Harry replied and Dean looked confused for a moment before nodding and going in for another hug. Harry snorted and walked to his littlest brother picking him up and laughing when Sammy clung to him and smacked him in the face.
"Yea, I missed you too" he said to Sammy's rapid baby babble. Bobby shook his head and ruffled his hair before turning and heading back to the kitchen, the smell of bacon frying told the two newly arrivals that Bobby was doing up breakfast.
"Welcome back kid" Bobby gruffly said before he disappeared around the corner.
"Glad to be back" Harry said softly before he was interrogated by a five year old and a babbling oblivious baby. Speaking of five year olds.
Harry reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a black car that looked eerily similar to the Impala their father drove and another package wrapped in blue and gold paper with a bow on it.
Dean grabbed the car and gazed at it with wonder the next gift not even registering yet. He looked at Harry with wide watery hazel-green eyes and Harry laughed when he suddenly found himself in a human python hug.
"Happy Belated Birthday Dean" Harry whispered in his brother's ear softly.
"I thought that you forgot" Dean hiccupped causing Harry to snort.
"Not likely Munchkin. Never ever"
Harry grabbed the seven month old Sam and hugged him as well. "Don't worry Sammy Bear, when your birthday comes around you'll get a present as well." Harry promised the baby who giggled and batted at his hair.
"Oh cool! A jacket like yours and dads! Thank you 'Array!"
He smiled at the five year old, ruffling his hair even as his gaze drifted to where his father was, an empty beer bottle in hand and another almost gone.
Harry shook his head. He had to be strong for the both of his brothers in order to keep his mother and his own wish alive. To protect Sam and Dean for as long as possible. Even from their father.
A/n: I had actually written this a few years back to be honest and only decided to post it because really, Sam and Dean are treasures who I just want to have nice things. Don't they deserve nice things? Even though we practically live on the blood and tears they shed and simply thrive on the angst like elixir? Let's be honest, we're horrible horrible people. That's why they deserve nice things.
So tell me your thoughts and opinions on this, any mistakes you guys spot and so on. Surprise me.
Hugs and cupcakes for you luvs~