A/N: Hey, I'm back! Now before you get out your pitchforks and string me up hear me out. I really have no excuse for not updating. I did have some family drama and so on and did move back in August but ya. I'm very busy with school now but I've managed to get updates up before so I will continue. Sorry for the long long long hiatus. Hope you guys are still with me and stick with this. So, for all you who have returned and are reading, please leave a little review and thanks for sticking around :D

Disclaimer: Don't own a thing….wait I own Harrison…booya!

Dedication: Okay, so I am dedicating this chapter to all you awesome reviewers who have been enjoying this story. You guys are what makes this story keep going. And special dedication to Ty3 and St0pSmackinMe07 for their little nudges via pm's which pretty much got me to pull out my computer and dust off my muse.

Chapter 7: The Breakfast Club

Apart from getting clocked by a well endowed blonde, the remainder of the morning proved uneventful. Harrison had chosen to forgo Dean's orders of catching a few z's and instead went about getting himself ready for a new day.

Truth be told, the idea of falling back to sleep put the young man on edge. It just so happened that lately he couldn't give in to unconsciousness without waking in unfamiliar territory. It was disconcerting to say the very least.

A duffel bag, old and beat up and on its way to that big trash bin in the sky, held what little clothing Harrison now owned. The style of jeans were a bit more vintage than he was used to but they seemed to make him blend with the rest of the world. Save for a trunk load of weapons and old Latin textbooks, he would do anything in his power to fit in. It just made hunting that much easier.

Harrison quietly pulled out a new set of clothes from the bag. He moved his stiff body towards the bathroom, doing his best not to disturb the sleeping hunters. Once inside, he relaxed. His eyes roamed the tired image reflected in the mirror. His fingers prodded the bruising around his snout. Slight discomfort made the hunter snap his head back in surprise.

Harrison tossed the fresh pile of clothes on the sink ledge before stripping his old ones off. The young Winchester couldn't help but grumble his displeasure as he went through the motions.

"Bitch nearly broke my nose."

His mind was racing with that certain Winchester I-think-I-just-stumbled-on-a-case-or-I'm-very-paranoid- quality. His gut instincts were kicking him or perhaps it was just indigestion. No, he was pretty sure it was gut instincts. The clue was in the buxom blonde who'd nearly taken off is nose with a right hook. No woman he'd ever met possessed the amount of strength he'd felt behind that coiled fist. It was an inhuman quality he associated with the same things he was taught to hunt. The only problem was, what the hell was she?

Harrison shed the last of his clothing, deciding to put his geek side on hold until after he was showered. Besides, he liked to enjoy his showers without the horrible nag of a case.


It had been nearly four hours since Harrison had left the motel. Wandering across endless asphalt, he'd managed to hitchhike his way into town. Dean had decided they stay at some place twenty minutes from town and the nearest diner.

Harrison was nearing the bottom of his third cup of coffee by seven a.m. Sam's laptop sat across from him. He had four different boxes open across the screen. Some were sites from the local newspaper while the others related supernatural information.

The young hunter ran a rough hand over his eyes. Maybe if he pressed hard enough the answers would come to him. Harrison felt haggard and worn down, sitting mindlessly in front of the computer. His body was on caffeine overload, he hadn't taken a cigarette break in the last forty-five minutes and for once in his life he didn't have a single clue as to what he was dealing with.

"Maybe Dean's right…"

A hearty laugh sounded from beside him. Harrison looked up in time to see Sam standing with his hands in his pockets. It appeared as though he'd just woken up.

He gestured to the empty booth across from Harrison. The young man gave his okay and waited as his father took a seat.

"I think you're the first person who has ever said that."

Harrison smiled at the attempt Sam was making. The truth was, as much as he wanted to start bonding with the youngest of the brothers, he was afraid to. He'd stopped opening up to people years ago and the idea of starting a relationship with this younger version of his father scared him. What if he lost Sam? He couldn't very well hopscotch time whenever he felt like it and hell, he didn't even know how to do it in the first place.

Sam and he hadn't really had much of anything going yet. A few words here and there- the usual "nice weather were having" sort of conversation but little to nothing else besides that. Whenever Harrison felt like he could approach him, Sam got this distant look in his eyes. The brown orbs stared right through the man and although he'd never say anything, it was that look that shredded his heart every time. It was a look of unfamiliarity, as though Sam was looking back at a stranger. Reasoning told Harrison that Sam didn't know him, but Harrison knew him. He'd known him for the better part of his life and it was that same person who now could so very easily look right through him without hesitation.

"Harrison?"

"Mmm, sorry, zoned out."

Harrison reached for his mug of coffee. It was cold and there wasn't much left, but he had to wrap his hands around something to steady them.

"I see you borrowed my computer?"

"Yeah, I thought I had something but…"

Sam bore an intense look across his boyish features. Eyebrows furrowed, he reached a tentative hand across the table. A warm touch startled Harrison back to the present. Past experiences made him pull away from the gentle hand. He'd yet to lift his head and when he did he was surprised to find a callused set of fingers hovering near his jaw line. Sam was staring, eyes revealing nothing to the younger man.

Harrison opened his mouth to make some homosexual crack because the level of awkwardness was rising to a degree that could only be righted with a gay joke. However, as his lips parted, no words came out. Sam's hand reached across the small space once again. His fingers gripped the width of Harrison's chin in a gentle vice, tilting his head right and left beneath the sodium bulb above.

"What happened to your face?"

The hunter visibly flinched. Sam brought his hand back onto the table. Harrison released the tension he'd been holding in his back. He refused to give in to Sam's dewy sensitive eyes. Chickflicks weren't his thing.

"Nothing big, just a scratch."

"A scratch?"

"I fell?" Harrison forced a grin that his father obviously wasn't enjoying. It faded just as quickly as it had appeared.

"Some broad ran her fist into my nose" Harrison shrugged "no biggie."

"When did this happen?"

"Early this morning when I went out for smokes. I thought maybe she was something hunt worthy but after browsing the internet I'm thinking she's just really strong."

Sam relaxed into the booth. A grin spread across his face which in turn immediately put Harrison at ease as well. The last thing either of them wanted was to put the other one off balance.

"So, you got beat up by a chick?"

Harrison smirked through the playful ribbing. He was never going to live the moment down.

"She distracted me with her breast, what was I supposed to do? Not look at them?"

His father threw his head back with laughter. Cheeks blossoming into a bright pink, the joyous sound shattered whatever silence remained in the diner. Hands clapping above his chest, Harrison was vaguely reminded of a circus seal. The site was definitely something he hadn't seen much of before. Brooding, drunken Sam would have been more what he was used to but he wasn't going to complain about happy, sober Sam anytime soon.

The laughter slowly died down and the two young men eased into a comfortable silence. Sam offered to get them both another cup of coffee because as he reasoned, Dean didn't wake up until the clock was on double digits. Harrison opted for decaf because he could feel the rattle of his nerves as the caffeine fix tore through his system.

He waited, eyes daring to shut as Sam placed their orders at the counter. Now that the possibility of a case had been thrown out the window, his body was finally beginning to relax. The caffeine made him jittering but he couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of exhaustion. The past week hadn't offered him any comfortable sleep, not without putting him out in a parking lot somewhere.

"Two creams, one sugar?"

Harrison's eyes snapped open. When had he closed them?

"Sorry, what?"

Sam smiled and placed a coffee mug under his drooping head. Harrison reveled in the warmth from the wafting steam.

"I take two creams and a sugar so…"

"It's safe to assume I do too?"

Sam nodded.

"I used to. Back in high school that's all I drank, then when coffee started replacing everything else I switched it up to three sugars. Can't help the sweet tooth."

Harrison grinned around the lid of the cup partially wishing it was caffeinated because it was becoming increasingly harder to stay awake.

"Everything alright?"

"Fine."


The eldest Winchester turned fitfully in his sleep. Arms grasping at the bed sheets, he awoke, panting and strangling a duvet cover. It took a moment for the darkness to part and reveal the few rays of sunlight that dare enter the room.

Dean turned to the bedside clock. It was way too early for him. Their constant flash came out mockingly the tired man whose only thoughts were of falling back asleep.

Hands reaching for the pillow, he was almost settled back into position when he noticed something he didn't quite like. It was quiet. Silent really. Not light snoring or creaking of box springs.

Dean glanced over the left side of his bed to the empty sleeping bag. It was a crumpled mess on the dingy, orange carpeting but it was vacant nonetheless. To the right of the room, in the remaining bed, Dean saw nothing. The bed had been made right down to the wrinkles being pressed out of the duvet cover. No Sam and no Harrison.

"Great."

The situation wouldn't have bothered him quite as much if it hadn't been for Harrison's constant lying. Dean had found a used cigarette pack, still containing cigarettes in it last night before going to bed. Why had Harrison lied about that? Then there was the strange sleeping pattern the kid had developed. Going to bed fully clothed? Waking up in the Impala? Dean had been pretty certain that the kid had just snuck off in his Chevy, picked up some chick and did the deed on his upholstered seats. However, the more his brain got to thinking, the more he believed it was something entirely different.

Dean cursed and grumbled his way around the motel room, picking up a t-shirt here and a pair of jeans there. He hastily threw himself together, snatching his leather jacket off a nearby chair as he went to exit the room. Once outside, he had to restrain himself from freaking out. Heart in his throat, he clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides.

He was staring at an empty parking space that no longer held his beloved Impala. Cursing low under his breath, Dean headed for the highway, thumb out and walking backwards into town where he was going to kick his little brother's ass.


Sweat covered his upper torso, in thick discomfort. Wiping off the moist layer from his face, Dean grumbled his displeasure across the parking lot. He'd spotted the black muscle car from the highway and was only slightly relieved to know that he had found them.

The hunter took wide, hurried steps across the blacktop. As he passed the wide expanse of windows lining the diner he caught site of his brother and Harrison sitting in a booth. Wide grins spread across their faces sitting there like a bunch of old friends. Dean was going to wipe those grins right off their faces.

He gave the door to the diner a harsh jerk. The bell tolled above his head, announcing his presence only to the waitress nearby. Before he could race across the linoleum to his family, a head of tight blonde curls and a pinstripe dress appeared in front of him.

"What can I get ya doll?"

Dean brushed lightly pass her while mumbling "A body bag."

Harrison was waving his arms wildly in front of himself as narrated the story of the hooker in Vegas for Sam.

"So then she suggests the slots and I say 'slots, isn't that a little kinky' and she says…"

"What the hell is this?!"

Sam jumped at the voice. Harrison smirked, having spotted Dean a few minutes earlier trekking across the parking lot with a look that could kill. Now the eldest Winchester stood, hands on his hips, panting and sweating next to the booth.

"Sorry, that's not quite how the story goes" Harrison's grin widened.

Dean faked a laugh. "Keep smirking you cocky son of…"

"Dean, what's wrong with you and….and why are you so sweaty?"

Harrison couldn't help the snort that escaped. "Dude, you smell."

Dean was seething at this point. Back to the newest member of the Winchester clan, he faced Sam gesturing for him to get out of the booth. Sam gave him a questioning look before he felt Dean's hand around his arm.

"We need to talk" he said through gritted teeth before turning on Harrison "alone."

Arms folded across his chest the youngest Winchester suddenly took on a stony expression. His eyes conveyed the anger he felt towards Dean at the moment. He'd finally had time with Sam, to get to know him, for Sam to know who he was and now Dean was taking that away from him.

Sam hesitated for a moment. The dramatic shift in Harrison's behavior was unsettling. One moment he'd been nothing but a Chatty Kathy doll, all smiles and then in a split second he had shut himself down. Securing his emotions and putting on that Winchester façade that made Sam want to lash out with rage.

"We'll be back in a minute" he said and followed Dean out of the diner.

The door chimed and Harrison watch in dismay as the remainder of his family walked out on him. Not literally really, he knew they were coming back but he still couldn't help the sickening feel it brought him. As much as he'd like to believe, Harrison just didn't feel like he belonged there. There wasn't much he could do about any of it. He was enjoying his stay with his family but it just didn't fit. It wasn't right that he be in their time.

Harrison drank the last of his coffee. His gaze shifted to his watch. Sam and Dean had been gone for nearly ten minutes. What were they doing? Not really known for having patience, Harrison got up and paid the bill before heading for the door. The impala was still parked where Sam had left it but there was no sign of either Winchester men anywhere in the parking lot.

"What the…"

"…hell are you talking about Dean?"

Harrison turned at the raised voice.

"Sammy, just calm down okay. Breathe."

"Dean, he's family."

Harrison followed the voices to the edge of the diner to where his family was hiding, arguing behind the building. The young man pulled out of sight before either of them noticed him standing there. Back pressed firmly against the brick siding, he listened, chest tightening as the words yelled their way out of Dean's mouth.

"He's been lying to us. I caught him sneaking in this morning with a busted nose."

"He went out for cigarettes…"

"Sam there was nearly half a pack left in the room. And then the Houdini acts he's been pulling while he's asleep. I mean the kid woke up in my car only a few nights ago."

"Well, maybe if you didn't force him to sleep on the floor…"

"The Impala doors were locked."

"He's a hunter."

Dean let out a sigh. "Sam, when he woke up he looked disoriented. Like he didn't know how he got there. I think it's time we start realizing that Harrison isn't telling us the whole truth. I don't think we should trust him."

Harrison grinded his teeth together. He had to do something to expel the emotions building up inside him. Stepping away from the building he made his way through the parking lot.

A wood paneled station wagon was parked a few spaces away from the Impala. Harrison pulled a paper clip from his jeans pocket and picked the lock within seconds. His only thought was on getting the hell out of Dodge. He kneeled below the steering wheel, hotwired the car and put it in to gear.

The driver to the vehicle must have been the one stepping out of the diner. Arms waving and shouting something the hunter couldn't make out over the radio. Harrison raised his head, glaring through the windshield as he spun out of the parking lot.


A/N: This chapter ended turning out a bit different than I expected. The next one will involve some nice tasty action. This was a little filler chapter so hope you still enjoyed it. Sorry for the cliché the OC eavesdrops on Sam and Dean only to find out they don't like him type of scenario. Couldn't help it :D