Random something-something: Emo Philips – "A computer once beat me at chess, but it was no match for me at kick boxing."

I was going to update Butterfly, but it's about time I hurt Harry… only I wasn't feeling unnecessarily cruel today, so I thought I'd work on this instead. Which, while cruel in parts, has nothing on hurting 6-year-old kids!


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"Soul Mates"

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, et all are property of JK Rowling, and Bloomsbury, and Warner Bros and all those other nifty people that make it so we can read and watch the Potterverse whenever we feel like it. I make no money from this, just so you know. Supernatural is also not mine; I make no money from series and am certainly not the creators/writers/directors. The songs are credited individually within the story.

Summary: [Dean/HP] On a job, when the spirits of two dead lovers possess Sam and Harry, it causes a host of new problems for Dean. Especially with Sam falling in love, Harry trying to kill Sam, and Dean still needing to buy back his soul. At least life for the Winchesters is never boring. Sequel. AU.

Warnings: Slash. Dean/HP. Sam/HP. Violence. Cross over. AU. Language. Rape. Character Death (minor). Possession. OOC.

Rating: NC-17. Male-on-male sex ahead.

A/N: This is a sequel to my only other Supernatural fiction, Soul Music, but this one takes place during Season 3 (Before the 'dream walking' episode, so the boys still have the Colt, Groundhog Day didn't die, and Sam still believes Ruby can save Dean). Also, has anyone seen the Buffy the Vampire Slayer, season 2, episode where Buffy shoots Angelus? Hint.


Words: 9,368

Chapter 1

Soul Mates

Riverside, Iowa.

They moved together. She was on top of him, rocking back and forth, with her hands squeezing around his neck. They panted, their bodies sweaty and flushed. His eyes were wide, terrified, but he was too far gone to fight back. He moaned instead, his head thrown back, offering her more room as she leant forward and kissed his jaw, her fingers clenching around his throat.

"Bella, Bella, why would you want to leave me? I love you Bella! I love you, and you leave me, for him?" The woman said. Her mouth was turned down into a frown, and black eyes starred impassively down on the man beneath her. "Why would you leave me, Bella?"

"Ed-E-" The man gasped. The hands loosened their grip slightly, enough for him to talk. "Edward, I'm sorry!" He wailed, his voice high and shaky. The woman sneered. Her fingers squeezed, viciously cutting off his air supply.

"I loved you, Bella!"1 She shouted down at the man. He didn't reply. His eyes rolled up into his head, he gave one more desperate attempt to breathe, and then he died. The woman frowned again, but she shifted to the side. She stood up, and made her way, naked, from the room. When she reached her husband's study, she reached into the top left draw of his desk and pulled out a gun. With one shot to the right temple, she was dead too.


Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "This is taking so long. Why is it taking so long?" He groaned, slapping his hand on the top of the ancient monitor he was facing. Sam looked over at him and rolled his eyes. Sam was surfing the Internet on his laptop, but Dean had no choice but to use the library computers, or research manually. "Damn machine," Dean hissed, "don't see why we couldn't have just gone with Harry. I don't like leaving him alone, so far away from us."

"Dean," Sam said patiently. "I don't like leaving Harry alone either. But the killings are happening in this town. Harry is fifteen miles north of us, in Iowa City.2 He's fine. And you've already heard him practice tonight's routine twenty times. How often can you listen to him sing the same songs, over and over?"

"I love listening to him sing."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't have the same affect on me." Sam pointed out. "And we have a case to work."

Dean made a humming noise. He rubbed the tip of his nose, his forehead creased in thought. "How come your physic abilities have gone away since we killed old Yellow Eyes, but you're still immune to Harry's Siren magic? What's up with that?"

"I don't know," Sam said distractedly, already having gone back to reading on his laptop, "oh hey! I found something."


Sam turned to his brother. Blue eyes stared back at him, wide and waiting. Sam cleared his throat. "The deceaseds were Paul and Amanda Bryan. Amanda instigated divorce proceedings last week, after she came home and found Paul in bed with her sister, Jennifer. Amanda strangled Paul and shot herself."

"Well that matches with the last couple, sort of." Dean said, as he stretched his arms above his head. "Alice Durrand was having an affair with Jason Dodd, her husband's first cousin. Jason and Emmett Durrand were practically brothers, before the affair. Emmett walked in on them, he and his wife separated, and a month later, Emmett lets himself into his cousins house, strangles his ex-wife, shoots himself, and ignores Jason completely. Oh finally!" Dean grinned at his computer screen. "The page finally loaded."

"Anything good?" Sam asked, before looking down at his watch. "Harry'll be back by now. Just print off the pages and we'll go through them back at the Resort." Dean nodded silently, a small smile stretching across his face at the thought of seeing Harry soon.

The Riverside Casino and Golf Resort was a swanky place just off Highway 22. It included a casino, a gold course, a private spa and a restaurant, as well as plenty of rooms and gardens for the guests. While it was expensive, and generally not somewhere the Winchester brothers found themselves often, Harry had insisted rather forcefully after Dean's first choice turned out to have a cockroach problem. Harry didn't really like dipping into his parents' inheritance, because it always felt like he was wasting the money when he spent it on himself. A rather abusive childhood didn't give Harry an inflated sense of self-worth, but the money problem was easily solved. Harry would pay for it, and he'd earn the money to replace his parents' fund. For the first time since Dean had sold his soul, Harry was singing live. The Cove Lounge was supposed to be a nice place, but Dean hadn't seen it before. It was away from their 'murder/suicide' problem, and that was enough for Sam to agree. Neither Dean nor Sam liked it when Harry got caught up in their Hunts. It was Dean's job to look out for his brother, and Sam took it upon him self to look after his brother's lover.


Sam moaned softly. His eyelashes fluttered as he turned his head to the side. Someone was kneeling over him, breathing softly on his face, and Sam smiled. His eyes opened, slowly, and he blinked a few times before his smile grew.

"Good morning, love," Harry Potter whispered, as he bent down to kiss the youngest Winchester.

The kiss was slow and easy, but Sam could feel tingles of pleasure running throughout his entire body. He gasped, reaching up as Harry tried to pull back, and tangled his fingers in the Siren's raven hair. "I love you," he gasped against the other's parted lips. "God, Harry, I love you so much."

Harry pulled back, smiling widely. Green eyes sparkled as Harry spoke. "I love you too," he paused, baring his teeth, "Dean."

Sam gasped, jerking forward in the bed. His hand was pressed to his chest, and he panted heavily trying to catch his breath back. At least once a week, for the past three months, he had dreamt of telling Harry he loved him, and Harry always reacted differently. But this wasn't the first night Harry had called him Dean.

Sam wasn't even sure when it had happened. When had he fallen in love with Harry Potter?

For Dean and Harry it had only taken three and a half weeks. But what Dean and Harry had was magically. They were soul mates. Completely compatible, and destined for one another, and all that bullshit that Dean had never before believed in. It had happened to Dean though, and Sam was so very envious. He would have given anything to be Harry's soul mate, anything, but it was too late now. He would never try and take Harry away from his brother; he couldn't hurt Dean that way. Dean only had half a year to live, and Sam wouldn't waste it on seducing his possible-if-Dean-survived brother-in-law. He needed to save Dean's soul, keep Dean alive, and look after Harry.

His thoughts were interrupted by the noises in the bathroom. The shower was running, but that wasn't the only thing Sam could hear. His lips twisted into a wry grin as a familiar moan drifted towards him. No doubt Harry and Dean were having a good morning. Sam reached down beneath the sheets, his hand delving below his waistband and he grasped hold of himself. He threw his head back with a groan, echoed by a cry of Harry's. Sam was determined to have a good morning too.


Iguanas Café was a nice place on Main Street. It was crowded that morning, but Harry easily found a table beside the front windows. He slid into the booth, waving Dean and Sam over. Instead, Sam raised a hand in reply but leant his hip against the counter top, nodding at the woman standing behind the till.

"Dean, we need to talk." He said, willing his eyes away from Harry's confused face.

"Oh yeah?" Dean gave a grin in Harry's direction and mouthed, 'one minute', before turning his attention back to his darker haired brother.

"You love Harry right? Of course you do, and you loved Cassie as well, but you love Harry more?" Dean's eyebrows furrowed but he only shrugged in response. "Well I loved Jessica. So much, Dean. I was going to propose! But I love someone else as well. And it's been almost three years since Jessica died, and I can finally say it out loud without feeling like I'm cheating on her. But I love someone else, more than I love her."

"Like me, and Harry and Cassie?"

"Yes." Sam took a deep breath, preparing himself.

"Blaise, right? It's Blaise?" Blaise was Harry's only friend outside of the Winchesters. He Italian was also a Wizard, and one of the few people to know that Harry was a Siren. They had shared a house together in San Francisco and when Harry had been pursuing his singing career, Blaise had acted as his manager. Harry had tried to set Sam and Blaise up around the time Dean and Harry got together. Blaise had even spent a month road tripping with them, but decided it wasn't high maintenance enough for his Pureblood-self, and bailed.

Sam exhaled sharply, "no, it's not Blaise."

"Come on man, you can tell me."

"No Dean. There was no Blaise and I. I thought I was straight, and Blaise likes the short, submissive type. Like Harry." Dean's eyes narrowed. "He was never with Harry, just so you know. Harry tends to romanticise things. Blaise said he was hoping that if we 'fell in love' then Harry could stay with us, but he wouldn't have to lose his only friend in the process."

"We're his friends too. And anyway, he didn't lose Zabini, the man emails and telephones so often he's practically a stalker."

"You're just jealous, Dean." Sam chuckled.

"Wait… Back up… You thought you were straight? Explain?" The elder brother crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyes narrowed.

Sam looked over at Harry, who was ordering breakfast for all of them, and smiled softly. "It's a bit like you and Harry. You always like girls, you even check a few of them out now and again even though you're with Harry. Harry's obviously a boy, but you're attracted to him anyway."

"I love him."

"I know. And I've always liked girls too, but, uh, I sort of fell in love with this guy. But it's completely hopeless. He's already with someone, they've been together almost a year. He doesn't feel that way about me, but I thought you deserved to know, Dean."

"Ok, well tell me who he is so I can threaten him into dumping his boyfriend. The guy's probably no where near good enough, you'd be a much better boyfriend, I'm certain." Dean insisted.

Sam chuckled at the irony of Dean insulting himself without realizing. Sam opened his mouth, but before he could speak, someone started screaming.

Both of their heads turned, as if attached to the same string, and they stared towards the window. They couldn't see who was screaming or why. They ran towards the door, pushing through the crush of the other diners as they tried to get outside. Harry met them on the pavement. He had seen the fight start, before the brothers heard the screaming, and he had left while they were talking.

"It's like the other two cases." Harry whispered to Sam. The brunette squeezed Harry's shoulder lightly, offering the younger man a smile before moving after Dean.

"I loved you Bella!" The man screamed. "How could you leave me for him?"

A woman was trembling by the side of the road. Beside her stood an older man, who had an uncanny resemblance to the first man. "Son, son, calm down." The older man said, raising his hands in a peace gesture. "I can explain everything, son." The man paid no attention to his father.

"I loved you. Don't you love me?"

"Of course I do, Edward. You know I do." The woman said.

"Emily?" The older man asked. "Come on, let's just get into the taxi and let David calm down alone, ok?" He took her elbow and tried to steer her into the waiting car.

David shrieked at him. "Bella, you bitch! You think you can just leave me for him? You think that I'd let you go?"

"What's going on?" Dean asked.

The woman beside him smiled. She was pretty, very pretty, with the same colour hair as Harry, but the eyes were wrong. "You must be new in town. Hi, I'm Melissa. David and Emily Harvey have been married since they were, like, seventeen. Apparently, the whole time, Emily's been sleeping with her father-in-law. That's him, Colin Harvey, right there. His wife died when David was a child, but now he's moving in with his son's wife. I can't believe it!"

"Believe it," Sam said with a scoff. They turned back to the arguing couple, just as David lunged for Emily. His hands around her throat, he squeezed. Colin tried to pry him off; two others rushed forward to help the woman. But Emily went limp, eyes sad and watery as she let her husband choke her to death. She turned her head, her face purpling, and her eyes met Sam's. They were black: like a demon's, except there was a white ring around the irises.

When she was dead, more people started to scream. Colin slumped to the floor, cradling her body against his as he cried. David looked down on them and smiled softly. He turned back to the road, and jumped forward, just as a truck came speeding around the corner. Harry gave a cry, turning his face away. Some others threw themselves to the ground; others stood still allowing the blood to splatter across their faces even as they screamed out.

Sam moved instantly to Harry's side. Dean watched the road with wide eyes, even as he moved to stand beside his family. Sam wrapped Harry in his arms, the boy's face pressed against Sam's chest, because he wasn't tall enough to reach the shoulder. Harry gave a soft sob, eyes squeezed closed.

"It's ok," Sam promised, "we won't let you get hurt. We'll keep you out of it."

Dean nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to Harry's head. "I love you."

"I love you too," came Harry's muffled reply.

Sam kept watching Harry, his arms tightening around the Siren, even as Dean walked away to speak with the old man and the other witnesses. 'I love you', he mouthed against the top of Harry's head. Harry pressed himself closer as Sam's mouth moved against his hair.

On opposite sides of the road stood two people. Bella watched Sam from their side of the road, her dress fluttering around her as the wind blew, but it was as incorporeal as herself. A pigeon flew through her skirt, but the ghost didn't flinch. She was smiling softly. Her hand came up, fingers lightly tracing the ring of bruises around her throat, before she turned away from Sam and Harry. On the other side of the road, another ghost watched them. His face was twisted into a look of rage as his eyes landed on Harry.

"I love you, Bella," he whispered. The words were carried on the wind, swirling and whirling their way across the street, twisting and fading, until in the end all Harry heard was the indistinct muttering of a passer-by. He didn't hear what was said, nor could he tell who had spoken. But Harry looked up anyway. When he looked around, Edward was gone.


They had headed back to the Resort. Dean thought it would be a good idea to clean up before they headed back out to dig up information. No one really wanted to talk to a man who was blood spattered. Harry waited until the shower started up before he spoke.

"Sam's in love with someone."

"I know. He was about to tell me who it is, but then those people died, and we got distracted."

"I know who. He told me." Dean waited, a wide smile on his face. He flopped down onto his bed, but Harry chose to remain standing. "I don't think he realized I could hear him. I'm a magical creature, Dean, I have better than average senses. And he was standing so close to me, I couldn't help but hear him."

"Well don't keep me in suspense all day."

"I think," Harry paused and cleared his throat. "I know that he's in love with-" The shower turned off. Harry froze, mouth still open but he couldn't make himself finish the sentence. He didn't want to upset Sam, or Dean, but Sam had obviously wanted to tell Dean the truth and Harry didn't know when they were going to find time. The case seemed to be spiralling out of control, more and more people were dying. There just wasn't time for silly real life stuff.

Sam came out of the bathroom in just a towel. Harry, against his better judgement, found his eyes wondering across Sam's chest. Harry had always thought Sam was attractive, who wouldn't think that? But he loved Dean. He wasn't someone who would betray someone he loved. He'd been betrayed often enough before he left Britain to know how much and how deeply betrayal hurt. He would never cause that kind of pain to someone he cared about. But seeing Sam now, knowing Sam probably watched him at times like these without Harry realizing, made Harry slightly uncomfortable. He knew Sam, trusted Sam. Sam wouldn't do anything that Harry didn't want; he would never act on his feelings without Harry's permission, and probably Dean's too. But that didn't change the fact that Sam was nearly naked in the room with them, and Harry really wanted to watch him dress.

Green eyes ripped away from the brunette, just as he bent down to grab his jeans. "Forgot to bring them in with me," Sam said shyly. Harry met Dean's eyes over Sam's shoulder. Sam gave his brother a grin. "What are you talking about anyway?" He asked curiously.

"-Me," Harry mouthed, finishing his earlier sentence.

Dean's face went blank, all expression and colour gone like a canvas that had been wiped clean. His hands clenched at his sides, and he swallowed heavily before he looked back up at his brother. "The case. Think we should head out and do some research into these possessions? We'll go after your shower."

"Yeah. Think we can actually get something to eat this time, though?" Sam asked as he headed back to the bathroom.

When the bathroom door closed, Dean took a few angry steps across the room and grabbed Harry by the shoulders. "What do you mean he's in love with you? He can't be in love with you!"

"He was going to tell you himself at the café. He was going to trust you to be calm and understanding, Dean. So please calm down."

"Yeah, he was going to tell me," Dean scoffed, "in public where I couldn't kill him! I'm going to kill him."

"DEAN!" Harry hissed, his hands on his hips.

The anger suddenly melted away, and Dean seemed to fold into himself. "I can't lose you," he breathed, his fingers moving down to grip Harry's arms instead of his shoulders. He shook the younger man lightly. "I can't lose you."

"You aren't going to lose me, Dean. You won't. This is Sammy, remember, your little brother. You know he would never do anything like that. He isn't trying to steal me away. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere." Harry's hands cupped Dean's cheeks, pulling the other man down for a kiss. Their lips met, slow and hesitant at first, but then Dean's hand found themselves on Harry's arse, pulling the boy closer and his tongue forced its way passed Harry's lips and into his mouth.

Dean pulled back with a moan, leaving Harry flushed and panting. "I know," he said at last, his voice shaky. "I just need to think. Just let me- I need to think."

"Ok." Harry whispered, his fingers stroking along the line of Dean's jaw.

The bathroom door opened again. Sam stopped in the threshold. There was a strange look on his face when Dean turned to him, but he was smiling. "Did I interrupt something? Shall I go have another shower?" He asked with a chuckle.

Dean grinned back; pleased to notice that Sam's offer wasn't forced or bitter. He actually was genuinely happy that they were happy, even if it was Dean-and-Harry instead of Sam-and-Harry. "Nah, we're good. Nothing a short stack wouldn't make up for."

"The way to a man's heart really is through his stomach," Harry muttered as they left the room.

They spent the rest of the morning scouring the library for a similar killing/suicide that would have happened at least a century ago. There were two more cases in the last fifty years, but neither were the starting point of the problem. During the afternoon, Harry left them and headed back to the Riverside Casino and Golf Resort. He had another gig planned for that afternoon, and he needed to get ready and head over. The brothers were going to meet him in Murphy's Bar and Grill as soon as they found something worth sharing.

What would you do if we woke up and the whole world was gone?
Well, would you believe with me is where you belong?
Well there goes the world and we're right in the middle
There goes the world and we're right in the middle
I said leave me here
I said leave me here with you

It was around 8pm when the brothers made their way into the bar. Harry had been performing since half-seven, so they hadn't actually missed that much of his singing. Harry was on the stage, surrounded by a handful of guys playing instruments, and he was swaying lightly to his own music.

Everybody in the bar, except Sam, looked almost hypnotized by the music. Harry's voice washed over them, and they felt everything he did.

As the city crumbles I see that there's nothing left behind
As we lay here together I feel your heart beat with mine
With time standing still, here is where we've always been
Well there goes the world and we're right in the middle again

I said leave me here
I said leave me here
I said leave me here
I said leave me here with you

Sam and Dean quickly found somewhere to sit at the bar. There had only been one seat available, and Dean quickly snagged it. Sam sighed and rolled his eyes at the man sitting beside his brother. His eyes were wide and glassy and he was practically drooling in Harry's direction. Sam clicked his fingers in the man's face and got no reaction. With a chuckle, he nudged the other guy's shoulder. He was so entranced by Harry that he actually fell sideways off of the barstool, and didn't bother to get back up off of the floor. He just kept staring forward, in Harry's direction. Sam sat down and ordered a double whiskey, no ice.

"A double?" Dean asked. He was beginning to grow slightly immune to the effect Harry's voice had on people, but it was still hard for Dean to keep his attention on anything else when Harry was in the room. But that was the fact of the matter even when Harry wasn't singing.

"I need it." Sam said, looking between the man on the floor, and the Siren on the stage.

Hey you, where are we going from here?
Hey you, where are we going from here?
Hey you, where are we going?
Cause there goes the world and I'm right in the middle with you
I'm right in the middle with you
I'm right in the middle with you
I'm right in the middle with you
I'm right in the middle with you

Harry stopped singing.

A sudden silence washed over the bar, and in the silence people started shaking themselves. Harry's magic started to fade away. The man on the floor stood up, looking around himself half angry and half confused. Before he could pick a fight with Sam (which was definitely what he planned to do), Harry started to sing again.

You feel like a candle in a hurricane
Just like a picture with a broken frame
Alone and helpless
Like you've lost your fight
But you'll be alright, you'll be alright

The man turned away from Sam and Dean, staring reverently back up at the stage. Sam rolled his eyes. "Some people are morons."

"Yes they are." Dean agreed, eyeing the man as well.

"Are you jealous? I mean, does it make you jealous, knowing that every guy in here is thinking about Harry and sex in the same thought."

"Of course it does. The only reason I'm not shooting everyone within reach is because I know that Harry is coming home with me."

Sam silently wondered why he wasn't killing every lust-crazed person in sight. Harry certainly wasn't going home with him, so what reason did he have to not loose control of his jealousy? He had no right to be jealous. Maybe that was it?

"Hey, you ever going to tell me who it is that has you tied up in knots?" Dean asked, shooting his brother a sideways glance. Sam's eyes drifted up to Harry, which was more than enough confirmation for Dean.

"It doesn't matter."

Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend, till you break
Cause its all you can take
On your knees you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad you get strong
Wipe your hands shake it off
Then you Stand, Then you stand.

"Of course it matters. Love is… like air." Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "Dude, I can't believe I just said that."

"Alright Ewan McGregor, that's the last time I let you watch Moulin Rouge." Sam laughed softly, taking a sip of his drink. "It really doesn't matter. The guy he's with, he makes him happy. That's ok with me. I'm happy if he's happy, if they're both happy. And I sound like such a sap, but I don't care."

Life's like a novel
With the end ripped out
The edge of a canyon
With only one way down
Take what you're given before its gone
Start holding on, keep holding on

"Sammy, come on. Maybe, I can help out. But I need to know who it is we're talking about."

Sam turned away and cleared his throat. "Did you know, that this bar is the future conception place of James T. Kirk?"

"What?" Dean asked, frowning.

"Future Captain of the USS Enterprise." Sam grinned, "Starfleet's finest."

"Are you drunk, bro?"

Sam shook his head. Dean was staring at him like he had just popped twenty 'e's at the once, and Sam couldn't help but think that Dean was so stupid sometimes. "You know, the TV show, the films, Star Trek. Kirk, and Spock, and 'Beam me up, Scotty'. Didn't you notice the model spaceship when we were pulling into the town? They call it the USS Riverside, but it's a partial recreation of the Enterprise."

Dean whistled, almost as if he were impressed. Then he rolled his eyes. "Dude, you are such a dork."

"Bitch." Sam said back, smiling.

Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend, till you break
Cause its all you can take
On your knees you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad you get strong
Wipe your hands shake it off
Then you Stand, Then you stand

Every time you get up
And get back in the race
One more small piece of you
Starts to fall into place. Oh.

The song started to come to a close. Harry sang the chorus once more, his eyes closed as he swayed to the music, one hand on the microphone and the other tangled in his own hair. When he was silent, the room burst into applause.

"That's the end of my night boys." Harry told them with a smile, "and girls," he added as an afterthought. Several screams rang out, woman grinning and waving at him. He smiled back politely. "Thanks for coming out." He climbed down off of the stage, and made his way towards Dean and Sam.

"Hey guys."

"Hey," Sam said. Dean just pulled Harry into a kiss. "Breath was on the radio on the way over."4 Sam told him as Harry slid himself onto Dean's lap.

"I can't get used to it. My songs, on the radio, wow."

"Yeah well, Zabini obviously is good at his job. Next thing you know, you'll have an album in the charts." Dean said, pressing a kiss to Harry's cheek.

"Hey Harry, did you know," Sam started.

"James T. Kirk, born March 22nd, stardate 2228 in Riverside, Iowa. Yeah I know." Harry grinned.

Dean gave a groan. "I'm surrounded by nerds. This can't be happening."

"I think we should visit the 'Voyage Home Museum' when the case is done. Before we leave." Sam said. Dean shot him a dirty look and shook his head.

"That sounds like fun. Please Dean?" Harry asked, pouting up at his lover.

"That won't work on me," Dean warned him. Despite his words, Sam could tell he was about to give in.

Suddenly Harry was being pulled off of Dean's lap. Both Winchesters jumped to their feet. The man who had fallen off the barstool earlier had one arm around Harry's shoulders, and the other cupping his chin. "Hey, I'm James. Are these guys bothering you? I can take care of them, if you like." His thumb was rubbing against Harry's cheek and his breath stank of alcohol.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "We're together."

"Course you aren't. You aren't good enough for him. I can be what you need, baby. Just say the word."

Harry took a step backward, but James kept hold of him. "Let him go," Sam growled. His teeth were bared and he looked completely enraged. Harry wrenched himself away from James just in time for Sam to throw himself forward with a curse.

"Well, well," James taunted, ducking Sam's punch. "Quite the little whore isn't he. Letting you both share him."

"Shut your hole! How dare you!" Sam threw himself forward again, his fist connecting soundly with James' nose. Sam moved forward again, but Dean grabbed him, one arm around his chest and the other around his neck.

"That's enough, Sammy. Stop it!" Harry's wide green eyes met his, and Dean nodded. Under his breath, wandless, Harry cast a calming spell. Sam slumped into Dean's embrace immediately, the fight drained from him. His head lolled to one side as Dean lifted him up, and he stared sadly at Harry as they made their way out of the bar. "Well, we won't be going there again," Dean said, as he loaded his brother into the backseat of the Impala and then got into the drivers seat.

Harry smiled at him from the passenger's side. "Let's just get back to the resort before the spell wears off."

"Should'a just thrown a drink at him." Dean mumbled. He was just a little bit uncomfortable with Harry using Wizarding magic. But it wasn't like Harry was hurting Sam, so Dean didn't complain any more.


Two days later.

"Hey, Dean. The receptionist downstairs was saying that there is a fabulous bakery the next town over, West of here. She gave me the address and everything. Can we go there for breakfast? It's only a few miles out."

Dean rolled over in the bed with a grunt. Harry smiled softly at him, rolling his eyes. It was midday, but Dean had been out late the night before and was understandably tired.

Sam sat up, and looked over. He was fully dressed, having not bothered to undress the night before, and there were bags under his eyes.

"Sleep well?"

"No," Sam said with a chuckle. "Kept dreaming about some girl, real pretty, dark hair, but she made me so mad for some reason."

"Do you know her?" Harry asked, reaching a hand out slowly.

"No. No I don't. It was just a strange dream, I guess." He rolled from the bed, and grabbed the keys to the Impala off of the bedside table. "Come on, I'll drive you."

"Are you sure? Dean doesn't really like us driving his baby."

"But I'm driving you. Dean would do anything for you, including let me drive you around in his car, you know." Sam was smiling, but something about the way he said 'anything' made Harry tense.

"Hey Dean, Sam and I are going to Kalona, ok?" Dean gave a grunt in reply and rolled over again. Sam's hand was on Harry's back, leading him from the room, and the feeling of Sam touching him made his skin crawl. It had never happened before, not even after he learnt that Sam loved him. But now, being any where near Sam felt wrong. Harry wanted to go back into the room, to curl up with Dean and not have to look at Sam for the rest of the afternoon, but he didn't want to hurt Sam's feelings.

So he allowed Sam to open the car door for him, and close it. When Sam got into the drivers side, he started the engine, and then turned to look at Harry. His eyes were black, except for one small ring of white, framing his irises.

"I love you, Bella." He whispered.

Harry cried out, pressing back against the door, hands fumbling as he tried to grab the release on the door. Sam's hand flew towards him, and then everything went black.


Sam watched him, black eyes narrowing slightly as Harry's eyes fluttered. He moved his arm, slowly reaching out to run three fingers down Harry's cheek. "Why would you want to leave me?" Sam asked.

Harry gave an incoherent reply. A weight pressed down on top of him – Sam. Harry arched, trying to dislodge the weight, but Sam only smiled and rocked forward, pressing his groin against Harry's. They were both naked. Sam lay between Harry's legs, his hands touching whatever part of Harry they wished too, while Harry's were raised above his head tied together with Sam's belt.

"Dean?" Harry murmured, his arms pulling against his bonds, eyes still closed.

"Why would you leave me for him? He's my brother, Bella." Sam whispered, his fingers tightening on Harry's chin.

Harry's eyes snapped open. His pupils were wide, dilated with fear. "What are you-" Harry broke off with a gasp, his cheeks flushing as Sam's hand moved down south. "What are you doing? Stop it!"

(Slash Scene Starts)

Sam didn't listen, which was to be expected really.

Instead, he slid a finger inside of Harry; pressing passed the guarding muscle with ease. "I didn't want to hurt you, Bella. I love you." Sam whispered, his free hand caressing Harry's throat. "I prepared you while you were asleep." Regardless, another fingers pressed into his body, curling and twisting as they brushed over his insides. Harry moaned, an involuntary sound, guttural and humiliating and his cheeks blazed in embarrassment. He bucked his hips, trying to push Sam off, but the Hunter just pressed closer again.

"Sam, stop it!" Harry begged, his eyes tearing up. "Please?"

"Bella, Bella," he breathed, pressing his lips against her cheek and kissing away the tears. "Don't you remember me? It's me, it's Edward, it's me! I love you, Bella. Why would you leave me?" Soft kisses laid themselves across Harry's throat and collarbones, Sam's lips light and warm against Harry's skin.

The brunette tensed, readying himself to scream, to beg, to plead, to cry, before he resolutely swallowed the sound down. What was happening, what would happen it was horrible. Humiliating. Nauseating. But it wasn't Sam's fault. Sam hated being possessed, hated it almost as much – maybe more – than he hated the demon that had murdered his mother.5 The aftermath would be hard enough for the Winchester as it was. Harry was terrified, to be perfectly honest. But he had always been a bit of a martyr. He would rather suffer silently, alone, than risk causing Sam – or Dean by association – any more pain than necessary.

Sam entered him in one thrust, and despite all the resolve Harry had to the contrary, he screamed. The body above him - Sam's body but not Sam – tensed as well, waiting until Harry was silent.

"I love you, Bella," he said as he pulled back and rocked forward again. Each thrust was harsher than the last, more forceful, as if he were punishing Harry for not participating, for not begging for less or for more, or for begging at all. When Sam came, he called Harry's name and not Bella's, and Harry felt tears on his face. But he honestly couldn't tell if he was the one crying or not.

(Slash Scene Ends)

When it was over, Sam's eyes closed and a sad smile settled onto his mouth as he pulled himself away from Harry. Harry turned his head away again, facing the door, mentally begging Dean to arrive and rescue him. Despite his desire to defend himself, his magic refused to attack someone he considered family – regardless of the fact that Sam was obviously possessed.

Sam moved over him again, lying on top of him, but straddling him this time, a leg on either side of Harry's hips pinning him to the bed. Hand's encircled his throat and Sam gave him another sad smile. "I'm sorry, Bella. I really did love you."

Harry closed his eyes, and when they opened again, glossy with tears as Sam began to choke him, she was suddenly there. Standing right in front of him. Isabella.

She was watching Harry, her hands pressed against her heart and she offered him the same sad smile that was on Sam's face. "Goodbye," she mouthed and transparent tears made their way down her transparent cheeks. Sam couldn't see her. Sam didn't know – Edward didn't know that Harry wasn't being possessed, or he didn't care, either way he continued to strangle Harry and Bella merely watched without remorse.

The door banged open. Sam looked up, his grip loosening momentarily as his attention focused on his brother. "She belongs with me. She loved me first." He breathed out softly, moving his head to gaze down at Harry, who had since begun to struggle frantically. "Relax, Bella. You know better than to fight me."

"Get the fuck away from him!" Dean hissed, raising his hands. In one hand was the Colt Ruby had fixed. His other hand was clenched into a fist, and Dean looked like he wanted nothing more than to lay into the man lying on top of his lover. Dean's jaw was clenched and his nostrils flared every time he exhaled, his eyes were narrowed and the skin around his eyes was pale.

Sam didn't move.

Dean fired the gun. A bullet tore across the room, aiming for Sam's shoulder and the possessed Hunter launched himself off of the bed just in time. The bullet whizzed passed him, lodging itself in the wall. When Sam stood up again, his hands were raised in front of his chest, held out at arm's length and his bit his bottom lip nervously. Edward's ghost drifted beside him. His jaw clenched as Harry stood up shakily. Edward's eyes narrowed as Dean wrapped one arm around Harry's waist, pulling the younger man out of view.

The gun was still pointed at Sam.

"I-I'm s-so-," Sam started, but his throat felt as if it was swelling up. There was just no room for words to pass through. He felt like he was swallowing sandbags whenever he opened his mouth, and in the end he settled for shaking his head slowly at Dean, eyes closed and mouth pressed into a thin, shameful line.

Dean lowered the gun.

"Oh Sammy!" He hissed, teeth grinding in anger.

Harry pressed his face between Dean's collarbones, and he shook lightly. He didn't want to be afraid of Sam, and he wasn't actually angry with Sam either. It wasn't Sam's fault. It wasn't. Sam wouldn't have done that, not like that, not ever, and Harry believed that. It was the ghost; it was Edward's fault. But that didn't mean that Harry wasn't afraid of Sam. He knew he didn't have to be, but he was anyway. He had always thought he was a strong person, but really he wasn't. Not when it counted. When others got hurt, Harry had always charged to their defence, saved and protected them at his own expense. Whenever he was injured, he shrugged it off. It wasn't like he hadn't ever had worse at the Dursleys, after all. But if he were hurt, and it was by a friend – emotionally or physically – it hurt! The very thought that someone he loved might want to make him bleed or cry was like a sucker punch to Harry's stomach.

And regardless of whether he had wanted to or not, Sam had hurt Harry. And Sam was someone Harry cared about very much, loved in some way – not as much as Dean – but loved regardless. And it hurt. It scared him to realize how easy it was for Sam to hurt him. It reminded him how easy it would be for Dean to hurt him, to leave him.

He couldn't bear to look at Sam right then.

When Sam's hand fell on his shoulder, and the man whispered, "forgive me?" while staring hopefully at him, Harry couldn't help himself. As much as he wished he hadn't, he had. He jumped away from the brothers, one hand pressed to his mouth to muffle a scream, and he fell, scrambling on his hands and knees into the furthest corner of the room from Sam.

The youngest Winchester sucked in a breath, and he seemed to deflate entirely. Dean grabbed him around the waist, keeping him from sliding to the ground, holding him tightly. "Dean," Sam gasped, not knowing what else to say, what to do to make every thing ok again.

"I know." Dean said squeezing his eyes shut. When Sam wrenched away, threw himself into his jeans and ran from the room, Dean didn't try and stop him. He kept his eyes closed until the door slammed shut, and then he slowly moved to kneel in front of Harry. "I don't know what to say, Harry."

"Don't say anything," the boy whispered after a moment of silence. "Just hold me, until it goes away."

Dean pulled Harry towards him, his arms wrapped around Harry's torso as the boy's legs spread apart so that they could press closer together without Dean having to move. "I love you," Dean said softly, his hands running up and down Harry's back, and his face pressed into Harry's hair. Harry's breath tickled his neck, and the elder man smiled softly, very pleased that Harry could stand to be touched by him after having been raped.

"Don't stop?" Harry asked, in barely more than a whisper.

"I won't."

"Ever?" He breathed again.

"I won't ever stop loving you."

Dean couldn't see it, but he felt Harry's face moving against his neck. His cheeks pulling up as the Wizard smiled. "Good."


Dean had driven back to the Riverside Casino and Golf Resort. Harry had promised that he would be fine on his own; it was only for a little while after all, just until Sam was found. Dean had left the room, but only after Harry was locked in the bathroom with the shower running. He didn't want to stay away for too long. Harry seemed to be taking everything so well. But that was Harry. The boy could be on fire and missing a leg but he would still say 'i'm fine' if anyone asked. Dean didn't trust Harry not to have a breakdown or a panic attack and then tell him. Harry would keep it a secret, pretend he was ok, for Sam and Dean's sake. But Harry's needs would be left out of the equation.

"Come on, let's head back to the room." Dean said, dragging Sam impatiently after him.

Sam had climbed out of a cab, outside of the Resort, just as Dean was pulling back up in the Impala. The elder brother had paid the cab fare and dragged the younger back into the hotel.

"We need to talk." Dean made an impatient sound, but stopped walking. "I'm so sorry, Dean, so sorry. If you both want me to leave I completely understand. I do. I'll leave."

"Sammy, no one wants you to leave." Dean let go of Sam's arm, using his hand to rub at his temples instead. "Harry isn't mad. I'm not mad. We're both just… afraid. He's terrified and he's afraid to admit it. I'm afraid for both of you, and I'm so goddamned angry at the spirit! But no one is angry with you." He reached out and squeezed Sam on the shoulder.

"Maybe I shouldn't go up there. I'll get a different room for the night. We can head back to San Francisco, take a little down time. I'm sure being around Blaise would be good for Harry. He'd have to spend less time around me then." Sam gave a rather self-deprecating smile, and it made Dean's heart hurt to think about choosing between his Siren and his brother.

"You don't have to leave. Harry is resilient. He's a warrior, like us. He'll bounce back. We just have to be there for him, listen to and trust him, love him. He's going to be just fine. I'll make sure of it." Dean promised, narrowing his eyes at Sam. "Now let's get back to Harry."6


When they got back to the hotel room, Harry wasn't there. The room was empty and the door was locked, with no sign of forced entry. Harry had left of his own free will, and that worried Dean, especially considering that there was a raping-murdering-human-possessing spirit on the rampage that already proved he had it out for Harry.

"What the hell!" Dean cursed, punching the wall.

"Harry wasn't possessed," Sam said suddenly. They left the room, walking briskly through the corridors, keeping their eyes peeled for Harry. Black eyes stared at their backs, watching silently as they passed the hallway he hid in.


"Maybe the woman knew Edward was wrong? Edward was convinced Harry was leaving me for you, Dean. Which is bullshit. Maybe she knew he was wrong, and refused? Or maybe she couldn't possess Harry because he wasn't having an affair? He might have been immune?" Sam guessed.

"Split up," Dean snapped, running off in one direction without waiting for a reply.

Sam watched him go and rolled his eyes. He turned around and his eyes widened. "Harry, there you are!" He reached out for Harry, forgetting for a moment that Harry had flinched from him earlier.

Harry didn't move an inch. He stared at Sam, a small smirk on his face. "Or maybe," Harry said, continuing on Sam's theories, "you're the one in the wrong? It should be you I punish. Why would you leave me, Sam? Don't you love me?"

Sam's eyes narrowed and he took a step back, raising his hands to defend himself.

"I LOVED her! I loved her, you piece of shit. And you took her away." Sam didn't bother to defend himself. He knew that nothing he said would get through to Harry. Edward was in charge right now. Hands moved for Sam's throat, but before they could touch him, Dean's voice filled the corridor.

"Get the fuck away from him!"

"I loved her." Harry whispered, turning away from Sam. He took one look at Dean, the Colt in his hand, hanging by his side, and charged. Arms caught Dean around the middle, a shoulder slammed into his ribs. The breath was knocked out of him, and he fell to the ground, wheezing. He didn't struggle as Harry pulled the gun from his hand. The Colt rose as his hand did, aimed at his own head. "Goodbye, Bella," Harry whispered, his eyes looking over Sam's shoulder where Isabella's ghost watched on in silence. "I loved you once."

He squeezed the trigger, but Sam grabbed his arm and Harry's hand jerked. The Siren screamed, high-pitched and agonized, as the bullet tore through his shoulder. Blood soaked his shirt, the small hole disappearing under the colour red. And Sam watched the wound in horror.

Sam grabbed Harry just as the boy's legs gave out. The loss of blood made Harry's vision swim and Edward's ghost watched him gasp for breath from beside Bella. "Don't die," Sam whispered, hugging Harry's against his chest, begging him. "Please don't die. Heal. Heal yourself. Please don't leave."

Tears fell unchecked from Dean's eyes as he walked unsteadily closer, before sinking to his knees beside his brother. He reached out for Harry, but stopped before he touched him. It wasn't real, he told himself, it couldn't be happening. "Harry?" He asked softly, looking at Sam instead.

"Come on Harry, heal yourself. You need to break the pattern, you can do it. Don't die. Don't let them win. Please don't leave us." Sam begged, his mouth pressed against Harry's ear.

The boy's eyes were closed, his shoulder still bleeding. "He needs a doctor." Dean muttered.

"There's no time. He severed the clavicle vein. He's going to bleed out." Sam's voice shook as he spoke.

Dean's hands came out, both pressing down on Harry's shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding, but the blood just seeped out from between his fingers. "Please don't die." He whispered, adding to Sam's pleas.

Harry's eyelids fluttered. He turned his head slowly, staring at Dean. His lips quirked, just a little, but it was enough of a smile for Dean to return. Dean reached down and took hold of Harry's right hand, raising it to shoulder height and holding it down on the wound. Harry closed his eyes, focusing all of his strength, what remained of it, on the wound. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to leave Dean, or Sam, or Blaise. He didn't want to be alone forever.

Something warm touched him, starting in his shoulder and travelling all the way down to his toes, but it made his chest particularly warm. Harry felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. His hand dropped to the side, but that was ok. Dean let it fall, not trying to grab it or stop its descent. Harry's magic had done its job, and the Winchesters allowed Harry to slip into unconsciousness.

"He's going to be fine?" Dean asked, to be sure.

The wound was closed. "He'll be fine."

As Sam spoke, both ghosts lit up from the inside, glowing a blinding shade of white. The boy's winced, shielding their eyes from the light and turning their heads away. When they looked back, Isabella and Edward were gone.

Dean stood, bending down to scoop Harry into his arms. "Come on, we should get cleaned up."

"I'm surprised no one came to investigate the gun shot."

"Lucky break." Dean said with a grin. "We don't get near enough of those."


When Harry woke up, he was dressed in pyjamas and tucked into his hotel bed. Dean wasn't in the room, but Sam was sitting on his own bed, watching Harry over the top of his laptop.

"Dean went for coffee." Sam told him without prompting.

Harry thought for a moment, deliberating over what to say. In the end, he settled for something simple. "What was Edward's damage?" He sat up, propping himself against the headboard.

Sam put the laptop on the floor and leant forward, smiling softly at Harry. "Uh," he started, then cleared his throat, "Edward and Isabella were married in the late 1800s, when it was still legal to beat your wife as long as the stick wasn't more than two inches thick. He used to beat her horribly, according to the accounts I managed to dig up. In the end, she begged his family to help her since her own were powerless to do anything. Edward's brother, Jasper, offered to take her away with him when he left for France. Edward found out, jumped to the conclusion that Isabella had been having an affair, but instantly forgave his brother. He raped and beat his wife, strangled her to death, and she was so used to the treatment that she didn't even fight back. He shot himself, just after, when his brother found him and Isabella's corpse."

"Has anything like this happened before?" Harry wondered out loud.

"Twice. There were two murder/suicides, aside from the ones we already knew about, but they occurred about mid-1900s."

"Well out of our time frame," Harry said grinning. He stood suddenly, moving across the room, from his bed to Sam's. Before the other brunette could protest, Harry was sitting in his lap, his leg's straddling Sam's. "It's not your fault. I don't hate you. I don't want you to leave. I'm not angry with you, or afraid of you. I just need some time, ok?"

Sam nodded dumbly. Harry's lips pressed against his, but by the time he had the sense to respond, Harry had already pulled back.

"I love you."

"I know," Harry whispered.

"I'd never try and do anything to hurt Dean. Or you. At least, not when I'm control of my body. I don't want to hurt him. Or you. I love you, but Dean loves you too, and-" Harry's lips were against his again and this time Sam was quick to return the kiss.

They broke apart as someone cleared their throat. Dean stood in the threshold, leaning against the doorframe. He had a grin on his face, and one of his eyebrows rose up as he drawled, "and here I thought you'd never try and steal my boyfriend. Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," Dean tsked, "you bitch."

"Dean, I-" Sam began but Dean just shook his head, still smiling.

"It's fine. Harry and I sort of talked about it, and I don't mind. It'll be weird, and I never want to see the two of you having sex, ever, because that would be gross. You being my brother, and what not. But I don't mind. I don't think we can save my soul, Sam, and this way at least neither of you will be alone. You'll have each other when I'm gone. And I'm happy with that. Knowing that you're both going to take care of each other makes me happy."

"Dean!" Harry hissed. He moved to Dean's side, and pressed a soft kiss to the Hunter's cheek.

"No. Harry. I'm going to Hell, and when I'm gone it's going to be your job to look out for Sam, ok? Promise me you won't let anything happen to him. And Sam, take care of Harry too, please?"

"We're going to save you." Sam said stubbornly, refusing to promise Dean anything.

"If you can't…" Dean let the sentence trail off.

Harry pressed a kiss to his lips this time. He pulled back with a smile, before repeating, "We're going to save you."

Dean believed him. Honestly and completely, he believed Sam and Harry would save him, do anything possible to save him. And even if they failed, it was the thought that counted. The knowledge that they wanted to save him made Dean happier than he could describe.

The End

1 – I couldn't resist a little 'Twilight'. Hate the name Isabella by the way: much prefer Isabel. My friend thinks that the scene in 'The Last House On The Left' where Mary gets raped is like the NC-17 version of 'Twilight': a forest, some stupid humans, some really hot men, and a really bad actress. Plus, kissing, in the woods with a dangerous man – only in this case, more than kissing went on. Grin.

2 – "Cove Lounge", 231 S Iowa Ave, Iowa City. It's a nightclub.

3A) Theory of a Deadman: "In The Middle". B) Rascal Flatts: "Stand".

4 – Breaking Benjamin: "Breath", Harry sang it during the Prequel (Soul Music).

5 – At the start of the Prequel I mentioned that someone (unnamed, unimportant) had died at Sam's hand because he was possessed. Sam obviously doesn't like being possessed! Pretend they have yet to get the nifty tattoos on their chests.

6 – Harry will need a lot of time to deal with everything, but this story won't really cover it. Perhaps I'll allude to it if I do another sequel. Until then, just accept that Harry is made of sterner stuff than an average human being. He can be a Vulcan! That would be cool!

A/N: I have never been to Riverside, IA. I looked up some stuff on the Internet, and twisted it to suit my needs. Half of the stuff I said probably isn't true. But there really is a model of the USS Enterprise there… As Spock would say, 'Fascinating'.

A/N 2: I got to the rape scene, and lost my will to continue. Sorry. This would have been posted so much sooner but then I discovered Child of Grace at FFNet. I recommend.

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Thanks for reading, please consider leaving a review. I don't know if I'll be doing more SPN/HP crossovers, but if I do it won't be until school starts up again. I haven't seen Season 4 cause I'm waiting for the complete season to come out on DVD. When I've seen it, I'll see what kind of spin I can put on things.