Author's Note: This is a special preview of the sequel, When the Lightning Strikes. It has already begun to be posted, but as skyflyte12 pointed out to me, some people may not know because they thought I was going to post that news at the end of this story. Whoops. At least this way you get the first four chapters of When the Lightning Strikes :)

"And the chains they crash like thunder,
While the weak ones all retreat.
Gotta draw first blood,
Or they'll read your funeral rights,
When the lightning strikes."

- Aerosmith, Lightning Strikes

The projector's light flickered over Harry's head, small specks of dust lighting up as they flew into the path of the light. On the screen a heroic Luke Skywalker's light saber lit up.

"Popcorn?" Sam asked shoving the tub of popcorn at Harry, his eyes never leaving the screen.

Harry took a handful of the buttery food and thanked Sam for the offer. Sam nodded slightly, still completely absorbed in the age-old film.

Harry shared an amused smile with Dean. It had been the older Winchester's idea to bring Sam to the local movie theatre. Ever since John Winchester had "died" both boys had been having a rough go of it. Harry gut twisted at the knowledge that he could have saved them both such trauma.

"You okay?" Dean whispered, taking the popcorn bucket from Harry.

Harry nodded and squeezed Dean's hand. "Popcorn went down the wrong pipe or something."

"You want something to drink?"

Harry shook his head. "I just need to go cough in the bathroom."

Dean's eyebrows rose suggestively. "Want some company?"

Harry smacked Dean's hands in response before sliding out into the aisle. "I'll be right back."

The light in the theatre lobby took a moment to adjust to, but Harry quickly navigated his way to the men's room. Harry's eyes swept under the doors of each of the stalls to make sure they were empty. When he was sure he was alone he picked the center urinal to relieve himself.

He was just washing up when an elderly man with a cane entered the bathroom. Harry smiled and nodded at the man. The man did not smile back.

As soon as the door shut behind him, the man's eyes turned black. Harry tensed in response, calling a flame into existence in front of him.

"Impressive," the old man croaked. "He wasn't lying about your talents."

"He?" Harry asked, letting the flame build slightly. "Who is it that's been saying such nice things about me?"

"Azazel, of course," the demon replied, smacking his cane against the ground in his impatience. "Put the flame away, witch. If I were here to kill you I wouldn't have revealed myself this way."

"Than why are you here, demon?" Harry asked, showing his own impatience. "And why shouldn't I just strike you down where you… hobble."

"Azazel has a message for you," the demon replied, twirling the cane in the surprisingly nimble fingertips of the aging host body. "He wants you to know that he's having difficulty finding John Winchester in hell."

Harry shrugged. "And this is my problem how?"

The demons black eyed swiveled towards the door and the theatre beyond. "Because the sons of the man you murdered are just feet away."

"Azazel and I had a deal," Harry barked angrily. "No one would know what really happened."

"Azazel only has to keep his end if he believes you kept yours," the demon hissed. "And if John Winchester isn't in hell than maybe you didn't keep your end."

"The hunter died in front of Azazel's eyes," Harry retorted. "Even he can't deny that."

"But what happened after?" the demon asked. "Azazel knows of your ability to heal yourself… what of others? Can you heal others?"

Harry wasn't sure how to respond. It would come out eventually that he could heal other people, making it more suspicious if he lied. But if he told the truth now, Azazel might not hold himself to his bargain.

"There was magic bonding our deal," Harry said, deciding on misdirection. "If he breaks our agreement than John Winchester lives again and that magic gun of his comes back with him."

The demon grinned maliciously. "And if he can prove that you broke your deal than Dean Winchester dies."

Harry swallowed thickly before extinguishing his flame.

"If you don't mind, I have a movie to get back to."

The demon nodded. "We'll keep looking for John Winchester. For your lovers sake, we better find him."

Thick, black smoke began pouring from the elderly man's mouth and escaping into the air vent above them. Harry caught the man and laid him gently on the ground, before walking back into the lobby.

Just as he was about to reenter their theatre, Dean emerged from the other side of the door.

"There you are," Dean greeted warmly. "I thought you fell in or something."

Harry shrugged. "No, just had to use the loo."

"I love it when you go British on me," Dean grinned, holding out a hand to Harry.

Harry eyed the hand suspiciously. "I thought you didn't like the PDA?"

Dean made a point of looking around the nearly empty lobby, before shrugging. "I think I'll risk it."

Harry smiled as he took Dean's hand, letting the hunter lead him back into the dark of theatre. Sam probably didn't even notice we were gone, Harry thought wryly.

Neither Dean nor Harry saw the black smoke leaving the theatre and disappearing into the blue sky beyond.

Author's Note: In case you missed the note at the beginning of the chapter… THE SEQUEL IS UP! It's called When the Lightning Strikes.