A/N - Some people seem to think Harry isn't the badass assassin that he seemed to be in the beginning of this fic. Hopefully this chapter will change your minds a little. But also remember that Harry killed humans. He's never really come up against most of the things the Winchesters go after. Especially Demons. Give him time. He'll adapt soon enough! :D
27th November, 2008. Mitchell, SD
Dean looked up from the papers he was reading when Sam groaned and slowly sat up from where he had been sleeping, squashed into the backseat of the Impala. Dean chuckled quietly as he saw the marks Sam's jacket had left on his cheek, and his hair wasn't helping his image in the least.
"Time s'it?" Sam muttered, rubbing his knuckles in his eyes, like he had since he was a baby. Dean wondered just how that didn't hurt, but he'd never actually bothered to ask. He had, when he was younger, tried it himself. And had ended up poking himself in his eye.
"Er… three fifteen in the morning."
"Harry not back yet?"
"The guy paid for five hours. He's not due back until four," Dean reminded him, discreetly looking over the papers he was looking through to see what his brother's reaction was. Sam hadn't exactly been quiet about how he didn't think Harry going back to work was a good idea.
They were currently sitting in the car just outside of the town that Harry had his first job in. According to Harry, the angels had somehow manipulated people in certain towns to think Harry was a high class escort. Something Harry was very happy about because apparently it meant he could charge the rates he had back in London. Dean was slowly making his way through Harry's journals and had choked a little when he was given Harry's price list.
He also never needed to know what coprophilia was.
Harry's client for this night was, thankfully, in the town not too far from Bobby's so they hadn't had to rely on the angels to take them there. Dean and Sam had decided that they'd just stay in the car near to Harry and wait for him to call Dean to collect him instead of booking a motel room for the night. Dean hadn't said anything, but he felt Sam had only wanted to stay in the car because he didn't want to be too far from Harry.
Dean loved his little brother. Hell, he'd died for him. But even he could admit that in this case, Sam was acting like a jerk to Harry. Dean didn't actually see what Harry saw in Sam, but he knew that Sam didn't deserve Harry.
"Did he say what this guy wanted?" Sam asked, looking at Dean curiously. Harry and Dean had both agreed that Sam didn't need to know anything about Harry's appointments. And Harry had made it so that only Dean could read his journals.
"I took the call and made the appointment, so yeah, I know what the john asked for."
"Harry doesn't call them johns," Sam pointed out, making Dean roll his eyes.
"Harry's a Brit. And professional. And high class. He calls them clients. Who cares? I call 'em johns."
"So what did he ask for?" Sam asked, getting a narrow eyed look from Dean.
"Why do you want to know, Sam?"
"What? I want to know so I can make sure Harry's fine afterwards! I care, Dean!" Sam exclaimed, making Dean feel a surprising surge of anger. He admitted to himself that at times he was ridiculously over protective and sometimes blind when it came to Sam. But Dean was starting to see Harry as a close friend, maybe even another little brother. And he didn't like to see anyone dick about with his brothers.
"You care? You're joking, right?" Dean asked him with a sneer, shaking his head and looking down at the papers on his lap instead of having to look at Sam.
"What does that mean, Dean?"
"You know what that means."
"Just say it!"
"Fine! You're a dick to Harry. You don't deserve him. He watches over you, pretty much sells his soul to Heaven for you and you thank him by ignoring him and sleeping with a freaking demon instead! Yeah, real nice, Sam. Real caring," Dean muttered, finally getting what had been bugging him about his brother since he'd realised just what Harry had done for Sam.
"You don't understand, Dean. I'm not…"
"Not what? A jerk? Messing with Harry's head? What?"
"I'm not sleeping with Ruby!" Sam snapped, shocking Dean because he honestly had thought his brother had been sleeping with the demon, because if he wasn't, then what was he doing?
"What? Then what… what are you doing with her?"
"She's… she's helping me. Giving me another option to kill Lilith. She wants Lilith dead just as much as we do, Dean," Sam admitted with a shrug. Dean just stared at him, not believing in the least that Ruby had their best interests at heart.
"You need to stop, Sammy."
"What? No, Dean! She wants to help!"
"Really, Sammy? Because her way of helping is going to get you killed. You know Ardifiel will kill you before he thinks you totally mess up and end up dragging Harry down to Hell with you."
"Surely you know, Sam! Harry's fate is all on your shoulders! I don't know the exact details of his task, but I know that if he fails, then he goes to Hell. And I know it's got something to do with you!" Dean told him, not honestly believing Sam could be so oblivious and not know about Harry's deal.
"Why would he agree to that?"
"Because he freaking likes you! No idea why, but he does. So what you're doing with Ruby? It's just signing his one way ticket to Hell. And Sam, you're going down with him. Don't be stupid, Sammy. I get that Ruby has somehow convinced you that she's helping you, but surely you can see that what you're doing isn't the right route!" Dean urged, wishing that his brother finally got a clue and realised Ruby was nothing but bad news.
"I… I don't know…" Sam muttered, rubbing a hand through his hair and looking troubled. Dean just hoped that meant Sam was at least going to consider just what his actions might do. Before Dean could say anything else to Sam, his new phone started to buzz in his pocket and Dean quickly took it out.
"I'm done. I'll wait outside the hotel for you, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. We'll be about ten minutes. You okay?"
"Freaking knackered, but yeah, I'm fine. I'm out of practice! Is Sam awake?"
"Yeah, he's awake. Why? You want to speak to him?" Dean asked, glancing over at Sam who had perked up and was looking at the phone in his hands like it would instantly transport him to Harry or something.
"No, just get him to sit in the front. I'm just gonna collapse in the back. Did you find a hunt?"
"Okay, I'll tell him. And yeah, I've found a few that might be interesting."
"Cool. Have you slept at all?"
"Ah, no. Not yet."
"Hmm. You need to sleep, Dean. Talk to Cas about it, see if he can help keep the nightmares away for a night or two. Now, hurry up. It's like a witch's tit out here!" Dean chuckled when Harry hung up on him, and then turned to look at Sam.
"Dude, you're gonna have to move up front. Harry said he's gonna just go to sleep in the back when we pick him up."
"Is he alright?"
"He's fine, Sam. Just tired. Now shift it. I don't want Harry bitching at us for taking too long. On the way to get him, you can choose which hunt to go to next. I've narrowed it down to these two," Dean told him, handing Sam the notes he'd made on two possible hunts and leaning out of the way when Sam climbed over the seat and into the front. "Dude! Watch the leather!"
"It's fine, Dean. Now, let's go get Harry."
28th November, 2008. Stratton, NE
"Boy, three bedrooms, two baths and one homicide. This place is gonna sell like hotcakes," Dean said sarcastically with a whistle as they walked into the house that Dean and Sam had claimed possibly had a spirit. Harry had no idea what the details of the hunt were considering he'd slept for most of the day, but he'd been given the run down when he'd woken.
Basically an old man had been hacked to death in a locked room inside a locked house. And there were no signs of forced entry. Given Harry wasn't too sure wizards were around America in great numbers, he had to agree with Dean that it was probably a ghost. Spirit. Whatever.
His suggestion that it was a pissed off, over-worked and hungry brownie was met with contempt so he just silently decided to agree with the Winchesters. Admittedly, they did know a bit more about these sort of things than he did. Even if the thought of a pissed off brownie did amuse him.
Harry wandered into the kitchen behind Sam and Dean, looking around the slightly run down house and silently wondering what American's seemed to have against brick.
"Hey, check this out!" Dean called out, giving Harry something to do instead of just looking like he knew what they were looking for. Though looking like he knew what people were talking about was something Harry had become very good at in his life. Dean knocked on a space of blank wall when Harry walked over to him, letting them hear that it was hollow behind the wall. "Huh."
"It's probably a dumbwaiter. All these old houses had them," Sam told them knowingly, reminding Harry startlingly of Hermione for a moment.
"Know-it-all," Dean muttered, getting a grin from Harry, who then coughed and looked away, trying for innocent when Sam turned and frowned at Dean.
"Never mind," Sam muttered, shooting Dean one last suspicious look before turning his attention back to the room at large. Harry glanced over at Dean and grinned at him, shaking his head in amusement when Dean just grinned unrepentantly back at him.
"So… is it a ghost?" Harry asked as he followed Sam out of the kitchen, Dean behind him, and making their way up the stairs and into a bedroom.
"A spirit," Sam corrected him, almost automatically.
"Meh, spirit. Ghost. Potayto, potahto," Harry muttered, then paused and frowned. "Who says potahto anyway?"
"No one. Freak. And don't be mean to Sammy. You know he doesn't like it when we're not PC about the shit we hunt. The PC term is spirit. I'm sure there was a big movement where they petitioned against being called ghosts," Dean told him, grinning when Sam huffed but didn't even bother to look back at them. Harry chuckled and looked around the empty bedroom.
"Right. So to avoid upsetting them, I'll call them spirits. Not that burning their remains won't upset them, mind. By the way, what are we looking for?" Harry finally asked, deciding to just bite the bullet and see if either brother could actually tell him.
"Well… normally any kind of clue that it was a spirit that killed the guy," Sam admitted, looking around the bare room when Harry just raised an eyebrow at him, wondering just what clues they would find in a bare, freshly repainted house.
"Yeah… only there are no bloodstains, a fresh coat of paint and nothing else to let us know for sure. Basically, we got nothing," Dean admitted with a shrug, looking over at Sam when he brought out an EMF reader that was beeping crazily.
"I thought we'd agreed that I messed with those things and so they were pretty much useless. Huh. I wonder if the angels mess with them too. Bet they make them light up like Christmas!" Harry said with a wide grin, eyeing the EMF reader in Sam's hands speculatively, which made Sam glare at him and practically hug the thing to his chest protectively. Harry had no idea what Sam thought he was going to do to it.
"Yeah — there's also power lines," Dean pointed out through the window. Harry grinned at Sam's disappointed look and then walked over and opened a closet door.
"Gah!" Harry leapt back from the door as though electrocuted and collided with Sam, who had been walking over to him and sending them both to the floor, much to Dean's amusement.
"Dude, you're scared of a dolls head?" Harry just glared at him as he detangled himself from Sam and stood up, Sam following him and rubbing his back where he'd hit it.
"Look at it!"
"Well… it is disturbing," Dean admitted, tilting his head to the side as though to give him a different view of it. Possibly one that was less disturbing if that was even possible.
"Think it got left behind?" Sam asked while Harry just wandered back over to the window and squinted when he saw something moving closer.
"By who? Unless Bill Gibson liked to play with doll heads." Harry assumed Bill Gibson was the unfortunate bloke that had been killed, but was far more interested in what was heading towards them to bother asking.
"Um… guys? We have company," Harry called out, getting the attention of both brothers, who came over to look out the window next to him.
"I thought you said this place was still for sale!" Dean accused to Sam, glaring at the moving truck and car heading down the lone road towards the house. Harry still thought that if you lived in a house so far from any civilisation, then you sort of deserved to be murdered horrifically.
"Apparently it's not," Sam said with a shrug. Sounding shockingly blasé considering they were just about to be caught trespassing.
One day the Winchester's were going to get him deported, he just knew it.
"Right, so we wing it then?" Harry asked as he followed the other two out of the room and down the stairs.
"Pretty much," Dean agreed as they left the house and walked down the front steps.
"Can I help you?" A man asked them, looking highly unimpressed in Harry's opinion.
"Hi. Are you the new owner?" Sam asked. Harry amused himself with what any of them would say if it turned out these people were a family of squatters.
"Yeah. You guys are…?"
"These are Mr Stanwyk and Mr Dolan. I'm Mr Babar. County Code Enforcement," Dean told them, and Harry wondered just where Dean came up with some of their aliases. He was starting to consider vetoing all of Dean's suggestions and giving a few himself. Though at least he wasn't 'Mr Bambi'…
"We had the building inspected last week. Is there a problem?"
"Asbestos in the walls, gas leak — yeah, I'd say we got a problem," Sam told them, whilst Harry vaguely hoped they were wrong about the asbestos thing. And the gas leak thing actually.
"Asbestos? Meaning what?"
"Meaning unless you want your family to develop asbestosis, then this house is uninhabitable and you should find somewhere else to stay for the next couple of days," Harry said, vaguely remembering one of his past clients talking about asbestosis and hoping it was what he thought it was. This would get very uncomfortable, very quickly, if it turned out that asbestosis was an STD or something.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You're saying we can't stay here?" The man Harry assumed was the father said, obviously not one who listened to instructions because Harry was pretty sure he did say they couldn't stay there. Maybe the man was a little slow.
"It's a health hazard. You don't want to," Dean told him, trying to sound understanding but firm.
"Hold up. We just drove four hundred miles." The other adult male in the group walked over, Harry eyeing him up and down and then dismissing him. Not someone who would pay for his services. Or someone who clearly listened.
"There's a motel just down the road. 'Til this gets cleaned up, I suggest you stay there," Dean told them, not leaving them any room to argue.
"All right. And what if we don't?"
"Asbestosis isn't a laughing matter, sir. People have died from it. Children being more at risk than adults. You want to risk your family's lives just because you don't want to stray on the side of caution and spend another night in a motel?" Harry really hoped asbestosis was what he thought. And lethal. He should have maybe thought about this line of lying before going ahead with it.
"One night. One night, and I'll take care of everything, ASAP, I promise," the older man said to them, turning to look at his family, who really didn't look all that impressed with his decision. Given they didn't know Harry was lying, they were disturbingly flippant with their health.
"Yeah, you do that," Dean agreed, looking at Sam and Dean then back to the family.
"Another motel? Awesome, Dad. I hope this one has hooker sheets, like the last one." Harry and Dean both shot the daughter (or kidnapped female minor, who was Harry to assume?) a slightly insulted look. Though probably for different reasons.
"Danny!" Harry looked around for whoever Danny might be and watched as the younger son (or yet another kidnapped minor) ran back over to his family with the dog and then got in the car with his family.
Harry stood with Sam and Dean watching them drive away and gave a small sigh of relief before turning back to face the brothers and see if they knew what to do next.
"What? It's a thing! It's exists! I didn't make it up!" Harry said, not admitting that he had no idea what it was.
"Right. Well, whatever, it worked," Dean begrudgingly admitted, then he glanced at the house behind them. "So we got nothing here. I say we head over to the woman that found the body. The cleaner, right?"
"She's not a suspect, yeah? Like… Leon-style cleaner?" Harry asked with a grin, following Dean and Sam back to the Impala.
"Dude, we're cutting off your TV watching privileges."
"What did the room look like when you found it, Mrs Curry?" They had headed back to where Mr Gibson's house cleaner lived in order to see if she could tell them something that might tell them on who it was that killed the man. Not that Harry was totally convinced it was a spirit but even he admitted that was only skeptic just to be awkward.
"I already told the local boys, there was blood everywhere," Mrs Curry told them, sounding a little annoyed to be questioned by them. Not that Harry blamed her.
"And Mr Gibson — where was he?"
"Everywhere," Mrs Curry told them, not sounding quite as upset as Harry would think someone who had just found their employer eviscerated would sound.
"How long have you been cleaning Mr Gibson's house?" Sam asked her looking for all the world like he was taking notes, though Harry suspected he was more likely playing noughts and crosses. Sam struck him as the type to play that by himself.
"About five years," she told him, looking at Harry curiously - probably because Harry had decided to stay quiet during this as he really had no idea what to ask her that would give them a heads up - and Harry just smiled at her weakly.
"So you knew him pretty well."
"Well, not really well. He was real private. Not the easiest man. Not that I blame him."
"Ooh. What do you mean?" Harry asked, finally finding something he could ask that wouldn't make Dean or Sam want to thump him for possibly setting them back. He still stood strong that asbestosis was a thing.
"His wife dies in childbirth. Daughter hangs herself in the attic twenty years later. I'd be bitter, too. I think I got some pictures," she told them before she wandered off into another room to go and fetch them for them. Before any of them could possibly say anything about the case, she had come back and was handing the photos to Harry. He had no idea why him, possibly because he asked the question that led to her getting them. Or she just liked him more. He didn't blame her. He was pretty charming.
"Cheers. Would it be okay if we kept these?" Harry asked her, deciding that he should at least be a little courteous towards her, if only so she would end up liking him more than Dean. Charming bastard normally out did him on charming their targets.
"Now, why'd the daughter kill herself?" Sam asked her before Harry could actually thank her, which made Harry glare at the back of Sam's head, much to Dean's amusement.
"I don't know. That was before my time."
"Did you ever notice anything odd in the house when you were cleaning it?" Dean asked her and Harry rolled his eyes at Dean's incredible subtlety.
"Like, you know, like lights going on and off, things not being where you left them…" Dean prompted, trailing off and watching Mrs Curry for any hint that she knew what he was talking about. Much to Harry's shock she actually did.
"Maybe there was one thing."
"What's that?" Harry asked, completely unable to stop himself due to the shock of her actually answering Dean and not just throwing them out of her house for wasting her time.
"Well, sometimes, I thought I heard like a… rustling in the walls."
"Like a rat?" Dean asked, looking like he fervently hoped she would disagree with him. Harry grinned at this little insight to something Dean might be scared of and mentally stored it in the back of his mind.
"Yeah." Harry held back a cackle when Dean shuddered at that.
"Must have been huge rats out there, huh?" Harry asked eagerly, grin widening when Dean caught on to what he was doing and glared at him.
"Wouldn't know. Never saw any," Mrs Curry told him with a shrug.
"Do you happen to know where Mrs Gibson and her daughter were buried?" Sam asked her, dragging her attention away from Harry and Dean, who were mouthing petty insults at one another.
"They were both cremated." Harry and Dean both stopped insulting one another when they heard Mrs Curry and turned to look at her then looked at Sam, who looked just as flummoxed as they did.
"Right! Well, I think that's everything we need. Thank you for helping us, Mrs Curry," Harry told her with a bright smile, pushing the photos he still had in his hands into his pocket and shaking Mrs Curry's hand. Sam and Dean both did the same before all three of them left the house and headed back to the Impala.
"So…" Harry muttered, glancing from Sam to Dean and then back again, figuring that Sam was going to be the likely one to have an answer on where to go next.
"Yeah. So it probably wasn't the mom or the daughter. Whose ghost was it?" Sam asked, completely ruining Harry's beliefs that he would know what to do and leaving him wondering just what they were going to do then, because he'd never really liked going into anything blind. One thing he'd never liked about the hunts the brothers went on.
"I don't know. But I say we give that place a real once-over and see," Dean said, and they got into the Impala to head back to the house that may or may not be haunted by some unknown dead person.
Dean drove up to the end of the driveway leading to the house and stopped when they saw that there were lights on inside. Harry mentally groaned, wondering why none of them could ever get a break. Together their luck sucked.
"Crap. So, what now?" Dean asked, sitting back in his seat and looking at Sam and then Harry in the back seat. Harry just shrugged and sighed loudly, mentally sending up a plea for a break, until recalling what Yebemiah had told him and realising that right now, no one was listening.
Which was just plain depressing.
"We could tell them the truth," Sam suggested, which got him the snort of contempt it deserved from both Harry and Dean.
"Oh yeah, brilliant idea. We lie to them about their house being lethal and then we tell them that, actually, it's not asbestosis they have to worry about, but a ghost—"
"Whatever. And, to top it all off, we don't actually know who the dead murderous person is and thus can't actually stop them. Yup. Uh huh. Drive on up, Dean. Let's go get thrown in the nut house."
"Alright, I wasn't actually being serious. No need to be so damn sarcastic about it," Sam muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and slumping down in a sulk. Dean looked at Sam and began to chuckle, shaking his head.
"Fine, fine. I'm sorry for being too British. Happy? So what are we going to do then?"
"Sit here and wait? Spirit-dude is gonna show itself at some point, right? And when it does, I'm betting someone screams," Dean said with a nod.
"My bet's on the girl. She looked like she'd scream if a particularly large spider looked at her wrong. A spirit is bound to make her scream," Harry said, looking at the house and mentally urging someone to scream.
Over an hour later and Dean suddenly jerked in his seat, which got the attention of Sam and Harry who had been having a quiet game of hangman whilst Dean had dozed. Dean pulled a phone out of his pocket, telling them what it was that had woken Dean up.
Harry glanced at Sam, who shrugged, and then looked back at Dean to see if he could work out who it was that was ringing them.
"Yeah, yeah he is. What are you asking for?" Harry perked up, noting that Sam scowled as they both realised Dean was talking to a possible client for Harry at the same time. "Yeah, you're gonna have to email the information you want him to know to the address on the card. … Total? No more than two thousand. … Yeah, he charges extra for knowing background information. … Okay, seven thirty? Got ya. He'll see you tomorrow night then."
Harry watched Dean hang up the phone, glancing to see Sam also had all his attention on Dean as well. Harry had gotten his notebook out so he could take down the relevant information he'd need to know. He'd gotten a new notebook and it felt depressingly empty of both jobs and useful numbers that his last one had in abundance.
"Yeah, you got a background date with a Jeannie Minks in Seattle tomorrow night, so you're gonna have to get one of the angels to take you there. Let's just hope we're done with this hunt by then."
"Pretty sure you'll be able to cope without me if we aren't," Harry pointed out lightly as he wrote down the details and then looked back at Dean. "She say she was going to email me what I need to know?"
"Nah, she said she could tell you the main bits that you'd need to know. You're taking her to a work meal or something. You're to go to her house and the meal isn't until eight. So you've got half an hour to get to know her," Dean told him with a shrug, glancing over at the house, from where there hadn't been a peep all night, then back to look at Harry again.
"Ah, it'll be a doddle then," Harry muttered with a nod, making a note to call Ardifiel or Castiel, whichever one came to him. He hoped one of them did as he didn't really feel all too comfortable calling for Yebemiah. A feeling he was quite aware didn't exactly make sense.
He was interrupted in his musings, however, when there was a scream from the house. Dean jerked into action, starting the car and driving it down the road and pulling up in front of the house. All three then jumped out of the car and up to the front door, Dean knocking on it.
"We heard screams. What's going on?" Dean demanded, pushing his way into the house as soon as the older man opened it. Sam and Harry quickly followed him inside, Harry closing the door behind him as a sign of good manners.
"Oh, you three! Did you touch my daughter?" The man who'd opened the door to them demanded, making Sam, Dean and Harry all pause and stare at him like he was insane.
"Who are you guys?"
"Relax, please. You have a ghost!" Harry told them, ignoring Sam's mutter of 'spirit' under his breath and instead focusing on the strange looks he was now getting.
"I told you!" The daughter whined, and Harry bit his tongue not to grin and say he'd told them about who it would be to scream. He knew she didn't have a strong stomach.
"It's the girl!" The son yelled, getting all of their attention. Harry could have sworn Sam had once told him that cremated people generally, as a rule, didn't come back to haunt you due to the whole lack of remains thing. This case was going to give him a headache, he just knew it.
"Both of you, relax," the dad told his kids before turning to face Harry and the Winchesters. "What are you guys playing?"
"Your family's in danger. You need to get out of the house now," Dean told him urgently, getting back up in the urgency by the lights making a timely exit and plunging them into darkness.
"What the hell?" The other man yelled suddenly, like it wasn't obvious. Harry was glad for the darkness because it meant no one saw him roll his eyes.
"Nobody move!" Dean shouted, making the family in front of them all freeze and stare at him. Harry's eyes had gotten used to the dark quickly, something he had learnt to do back when he was a child locked in a small cupboard.
"Buster!" Harry wondered who the bloody hell Buster was when the son had yelled out, only to get his answer by the sound of howling outside. Harry winced, pretty sure that no healthy animal made sounds like that, but followed anyway when the two men ran outside, followed by Sam and Dean. Harry sighed, figuring he could at least try and keep the Winchesters alive.
"What the hell?" Harry caught up with them as they came across a trail of blood on the floor, the younger of the two men shining a torch on it and following it to the moving van. On the side of it, in blood, someone had written 'too late'.
"Buster!" Harry spun around to see that the rest of the family had come outside of the house and wondered if he should try to stop the son from seeing his pet's blood used as a marker pen. Thankfully the boy's father moved to stop the boy from coming over to them.
"Go back inside! Go!"
"We are not the bad guys, but you're in danger," Dean told the father quietly as they watched the rest of the family members standing at the bottom of the porch steps huddled together. Harry kept glancing around them, ever aware that they were in the open and far from safe.
"First thing's first. You got to get your family out of here," Sam told the father and Harry really hoped that the stubborn man actually listened to them this time.
"Head to the motel I was talking about. You'll be safe there," Dean told him as they made their way to where the cars were. Harry following cautiously behind them, not being able to shake the feeling that they were being watched. This hunt wasn't shaping out to be like any of the other hunts he'd been on with either just Sam or both brothers. Though admittedly, they had mostly hunted demons and Harry openly admitted that he had no idea how to deal with demons.
"What are you three gonna do?"
"Oh no! Oh, come on! Come on!" Dean shouted, not answering the dad. Harry looked over and cursed, seeing the tyres of all the cars had been slashed.
"Dude, the guns are gone. So are the… basically, everything is gone," Sam called from where he'd been looking in the trunk of the car.
"What?! Even mine?!" Harry demanded, running over to Sam and seeing the empty trunk. "Fuckers! What the fuck?! It took George?! George, Sam! That is it, we are burning this mother to the ground!"
"Trucks no good!" The younger of the two men announced, interrupting Harry's raging though giving him a wary look as he walked up to them.
"Both tyres slashed."
"What kind of ghost messed with a man's wheels?!" Dean demanded
"Never mind the damned cars! It took my weapons! Do you know how much money and how many laws I broke to get them? They're like my children! My sharp, pointy, lethal children!" Harry hissed, glaring as he looked around him, still feeling like he was being watched and wanting to find who it was.
"What's going on? What's going on?" The young girl shouted over to them and then suddenly screamed shrilly, pointing to something behind them. "She's there! She's there!"
"Where?" Her mother looked at where she was pointing, Harry also looking and not seeing anything, beginning to get an uncomfortable feeling about it all.
"She was right there in the woods!"
"What's a ghost doing outside?" Dean whispered to them, sounding and looking confused as he glanced to where the girl had seen the ghost.
"Do we want to stay and find out?" Harry asked, keeping a wary look around him for any sign of the ghost or whatever it was. Harry was beginning to think what they were hunting wasn't a ghost.
And it was hunting them back.
"Good point," Dean nodded, then turned back to the scared family huddled in front of the house. "Everybody inside!"
"Are you crazy? We need to get the hell out of here!" The younger man snapped, and Harry was beginning to think they should just learn the names of the family members.
"In what?! The ghost is hunting us! Everybody back inside now! Move it!" Harry yelled back at them, not stopping with his constant searching and knowing that it probably made him paranoid. But it'd helped him survive thus far so he was beyond caring what others thought.
When they had finally gotten everyone inside, they had moved to the dining room of the house and Dean had gone off and came back with two large bags of salt. Harry was beginning to suspect Dean actually had magical salt producing skills. Either that, or Americans as a whole had a real issue with their salt intake. He sure as hell never had spare salt knocking about his flat.
He did have crushed unicorn horn though, so maybe it was all a point of perspective.
"Whatever's outside, it can't get in this circle. As long as the salt line is unbroken, this is the safest place to be," Dean told them as he drew a thick circle with the salt around where the family were standing. Harry had actually found out that the two men were called Brian and Ted, so he felt he had actually done something productive. He just needed to learn the names of the other three and he was golden.
"Safe from ghosts?" Brian asked skeptically. Not that Harry blamed him. He had been pretty damned sceptic when Sam had first told him about salt being a handy ghost-repellant. Well, until he'd had it proven in front of his eyes.
"Yes, as a matter of fact," Dean told him snappily, making Harry grin and turn to hide it, looking at where Sam was finishing the other half of the circle. For some reason he hadn't been trusted to make it.
Harry suspected Sam had told Dean about the one incident in which Harry had dropped their last bag of rock-salt into a freezing cold lake because of a reaction he'd been told about. He would have liked to point out their lack of frozen lakes but didn't think it would inspire the family with much confidence if he had.
"Okay. I'm not listening to this anymore. Come on. I got to get my family out of here. Let's go," Brian said, shaking his head as he ushered his family together.
"Sir, please. This is what we do. Just… trust us," Sam told him in a calm, reassuring voice.
"You hunt ghosts?" The son asked, sounding a little too interested for Harry's comfort. One sharp glance from Sam told him not to answer with what he did. That took away some of his fun.
"That's right," Dean agreed.
"Like Scooby-Doo?" Harry choked at that and turned away, trying to muffle his laughter, though the glare both brother's shot him told him he wasn't all that successful.
"You saw her outside, right?" Sam asked the daughter and getting a nod. Harry watched them, quickly taking a step to stand inside the now complete circle as he did. "Okay. Does she look like either one of these girls?" Harry looked up when he was nudged.
"Oh! Right! Hang on. Bloody pockets…" Harry muttered, trying to pull the photos out of the pocket he had put them in and then handing them to the girl for her to look at, ignoring her bemused stare as he did.
"Her. She was paler and a lot dirtier, but that was her," she told them pointing to the photo they had of the old guys daughter. Which was confusing what with the whole cremation thing.
"That's the girl in the walls," her brother added, looking over his sisters shoulder at the photo.
"So it's the daughter?"
"That girl in the picture — She-she's dead?" Their mother asked them, taking the photo from her daughter to look at it.
"She killed herself inside this house," Sam told them, never one to sugar the pill.
"So, what? The maid got her story wrong? Rebecca wasn't cremated?" Dean asked, confused as Harry felt.
"Unless her spirit's just attached to something inside the house," Sam pointed out and Harry looked at him with wide eyes. He hadn't been told that dead people came back because they were particularly attached to a pair of socks or something.
"She hanged herself in the attic, didn't she?" Harry asked them, unable to stop himself from looking upwards like he could somehow see through the ceiling into the attic.
"Yeah. You two wanna babysit? I'll check it out," Sam asked them both, glancing over at the family who were watching them closely.
"Look — I don't care who hung themselves where. Maybe something is going on here, but—"
"It's a spirit, man," Dean interrupted Ted impatiently.
"No, it's just some backwoods hillbilly bitch, and I'm not about to sit around here waiting for her to go all Deliverance on my ass."
"If it's a woman, then she ain't going Deliverance on anyones ass. Though I guess she could peg you," Harry added musingly, grinning at the startled look Ted shot him and Sam's suffering sigh. Dean however just chuckled and grinned at Harry.
"Nobodies leaving the house, okay?"
"Stop me," Ted told them and Harry didn't bother to hold back his scoff.
"Listen, man. I've got a gun. You don't get your ass back in that circle, you're gonna have yourself a third hole," Dean snapped at him, stepping away from the family towards Sam and dragging Harry with him.
"Dude, you don't have a gun," Sam whispered to him when they walked over to where he was standing near the door.
"And? I'm not letting that bastard or anyone else die tonight."
"You cool?" Sam asked him, glancing at Harry with concern.
"Ah, go. I'll stop him from killing the annoying twats."
"You? Really?" Sam asked him and even Dean looked shocked.
"What? I can stop him. You think I can't stop him?"
"It's not that I think you can't. It's more I think you won't," Sam pointed out, ignoring Dean's indignant noise at his brother clearly thinking Harry could take him.
"Oh just go. I won't do anything," Dean muttered with a glare at Sam, Sam just shrugged and then left the room with one last glance to Harry, who just grinned.
"Hey, Fonzie! Question for you. This indestructible force field made out of salt… Have to be kosher stuff, or what?"
"There's kosher salt? And hang on, if he's the Fonz, who does that make me? The Fonz if the only guy from that show that was vaguely bearable. And I use that term lightly," Harry added with a grimace, succinctly stopping any argument from breaking out just by confusing pretty much everyone in the room, much to Dean's amusement.
Though the arguing might not have started because seconds after Harry stopped grumbling about Happy Days and the Fonz, there was a shuffling noise from the direction of the closet. Harry and Dean glanced at one another and quickly moved to stand inside of the salt circle.
"What was that?" The daughter asked quietly, all of them staring at where the noise had come from, not daring to take their eyes away and so not missing when the door opened and a pale, scraggy young girl stepped out of it. "Mom…"
"All right, everybody stay calm. She's a ghost. She can't come in the circle," Dean told them, ushering the family so that they were standing behind them. Harry darted a glance at Dean, then back to the girl when she reached the edge of the salt and tilted her head, a long knife slowly dropping out of her sleeve and into her hand.
"Dean…" Harry muttered uneasily, not taking his eyes off the girl and then watching in disbelief when the girl grinned at them and took a steady step over the salt.
"I thought you said ghosts couldn't cross the circle," the young girl whispered shakily.
"She's not a ghost," Harry told them calmly, suddenly feeling quite in his element given he knew how to kill humans. If that was what she was. And it was certainly what she looked like.
"Shoot her! Shoot her!" Ted urged them.
"Yeah, about that… go, go, go! Move!" Dean yelled at them, dodging out of the way just as the girl launched herself at him, causing her to crash into the table instead.
"Oi!" Harry yelled, getting the girls attention away from Dean and grinning before he tackled her to the floor, slamming her hand that was holding the knife and making her drop it. The girl yelled wordlessly in anger at him when Harry quickly grabbed the knife from her and rolled away from her, grunting when she kicked out and caught his shin.
"Hey!" Harry and the girl both looked up at Sam's yell straight into the light of his torch. The girl screamed and ran, leaving Harry sitting on the floor, blinking furiously.
"Fucking ow! I think I'm blind. But on the plus side, I now have three knives!" Harry said happily, holding up the knife he'd taken from the girl.
"Dude! What the hell was that?" Dean asked him, sounding like he wasn't sure if he was impressed or not.
"What? She's not a ghost. Humans I can kill! I know how to kill them!" Harry told him with a wicked grin, looking at the knife in his hand.
"Right… you do know there's only one knife in your hand and not three, right?" Dean asked him warily, both brothers walking over to him and Sam holding out a hand to help him stand up.
"Huh? Oh, right. Yeah. Here, take this." Harry handed the girl's knife to Dean and then leant down and took two large daggers out of his boots. "I have Lily and Rose on me as well."
"You've had them all along? Why do you have two daggers on you?" Sam asked him, looking at him in shock and taking one of them when Harry handed it over.
"Well, in case you haven't noticed, but I haven't changed since my last job. I always take those two on jobs with me. Some clients… well, they can get the wrong idea. And hey! We all now have a weapon, so I say we should all be happy that I'm a paranoid hooker!"
"Dude's got a point, Sammy."
"True. Where did the others go?"
"Ran outside when Harry went Rambo on the twisted sister."
"Anyone know what their names are? Because it's gonna get mighty confusing when they all start panicking and calling out for one another," Harry pointed out as they all made their way warily out of the house and to find the family.
"Maybe we should ask them," Sam suggested, getting shocked looks from Dean and Harry. Neither of which had honestly thought of doing that.
The three of them headed outside in hopes that they'd find all of the family in one piece. Well, in five pieces technically, but five human shaped pieces that were healthy and alive. They found Brian by the side of the house alone and obviously waiting for them to return. Harry just wondered where the man had stowed his family.
"Hey. You okay?" Brian asked them, looking shaken but concerned.
"Where is everybody?" Dean asked him as they made their way over to the man, Harry and Sam following closely behind.
"All right, go get them. Go. Go get them!" Dean told him when it actually looked like Brian was going to argue with him. Once he nodded and then presumably ran off to get his family, Dean turned back to face Sam and Harry.
"So, it's not a ghost then. Which, can I just say, thank God for that because now I'm actually useful," Harry pointed out in a whisper, making sure to not be overheard by the family should they return quickly.
"You're normally useful. That's not the point. If it's a girl, then… it's just a girl. What do we do?" Sam asked, completely baffled.
"It's not just a girl though. She's a complete psycho nutjob. And like all psycho nutjobs, when they kill, then that's when they need to be put down. Which, you know, is something I can do. Because I know you're all squeamish with the whole humanity thing," Harry said with a mock soothing tone, grinning brightly when Dean glared at him.
"Fine, it's a girl. So who is she, then?" Sam asked quickly before Harry and Dean could devolve into petty squabbling. They needed to get some sort of clue before Brian returned with his family.
"I don't know. Maybe it's the daughter, Rebecca. Maybe she didn't hang herself."
"Wait, who the hell did they cremate then?" Harry asked, getting a nod from Sam.
"Exactly. Plus she'd be like fifty years old by now," Sam pointed out, which made Dean look even more confused than Harry felt - something Harry thought impossible.
"Well, I have no idea then. What'd you find in the attic?" Dean asked, looking at Sam for some sort of idea as to what the hell was going on around them.
"Some old junk. I found Rebecca's diary. That's about it."
"Could give us a clue as to who the hell we're dealing with," Harry pointed out quietly. Dean glanced at him and then huffed quietly, dragging a hand through his hair in agitation.
"I wish you'd found a howitzer," Dean muttered before standing up a little straighter and glancing over to where the family were walking back to them from where they'd been hiding. "Listen, we got to get this family safe. I mean, it's just a human, so they can make a run for it. We just got to hold her off."
"Easier said than done," Harry muttered, grinning innocently when Dean glared at him.
"You guys alright?" Sam called out as the family made their way over to them.
"We're okay," the mother told them, glancing behind her where her husband was still standing near the bushes they'd been hiding in whilst Harry fought the crazy no-name girl.
"Danny! Ted! We got to go!" Brian called out. Harry glanced over at them, not liking the feeling he was getting, a glance at Sam and Dean told him they were thinking the same thing he was.
"I'm good," Ted called back as he pushed his way from where he'd been hiding.
"Danny! Come on!"
"Danny, buddy, we got to!" Brain shouted out after his wife, both parents now frowning, whilst Ted walked over to them with a wry grin on his face.
"Told you it was some crazy bitch."
"That you did. Have a prize," Harry drawled, mentally clapping himself on the back for sounding so very much like a Malfoy.
"Head to town. We'll take it from here, okay?" Sam told Ted, getting a nod from the man. Harry, however, didn't think this hunt would go quite that easily for them.
"Danny, come on, baby! We're leaving!"
"Danny, we got to go!" The bad feeling in Harry just grew the longer they went without a response from Danny.
"Brian, where — where is he?" Harry glanced over at Sam and Dean and took a step closer to them.
"So, what do we do? I mean, it looks like she's absconded with the kid," Harry pointed out, looking over to see Brian talking to his wife.
"No idea, dude. No idea," Dean muttered, before all three of them turned their attention back to Brian, hoping to get an idea of what to do next from him.
"Suse, Suse, Suse. We will find Danny, I promise you," Brian told his wife, which didn't really have the desired effect of calming her down that he clearly hoped for.
"No. Take Kate and go now. Now, while you still have a chance."
"Not without Danny," Susan - well, Harry assumed she was called Susan - told him stubbornly. Harry couldn't help but wonder why people insisted on making things so much more difficult for everyone around them. Sometimes he thinks Satch did him a small favour. At least he didn't have messy things like family keeping him back or making his life even more messed up than it was.
"We will find him."
"I am not going out there with Mom alone!" Harry rolled his eyes and wondered if he should do everyone a favour and invite the whole family in on this hunt. It would surely move things long a bit faster.
"She's right," Dean said, speaking up finally - though Harry was unsure as to whether it was because he was annoyed with how things were going or if he feared what Harry would undoubtedly say if things carried on the way they were. "Until we find your son, the safest place for you right now is the shed."
"I'm not going in there either."
"Yes, you are. It is the best defence. The windows are boarded up. It's got one door. It's our best shot right now. Trust me," Dean told her firmly, tone of his voice brooking no argument, something that Brian clearly picked up on.
"Suse, Kate. Go. Go."
"Alright then! Now that they've gone to hide, I say me and Dean head inside and you two search outside with Sam," Harry told them before anyone else could make a plan that wouldn't quite suit him.
"How come you two take the inside?" Brian asked, which made Harry glare at him.
"Because we have sharp pointy objects and know what we're doing. So quit your bitching and get moving! You want to find you son, right? Let's go!"
Harry and Dean began their search in the room the girl had attacked them in, though Harry wouldn't say why they chose that room first because he really didn't have a clue and didn't want to admit that to Dean when he was finally of some use during a hunt. In Harry's opinion, they really needed to hunt more corporeal beasties that he could actually fight.
"So, you think we should check the walls?" Harry asked, looking at the walls and wondering just why all the houses seemed to be made of wood. Good solid brick houses, that's what he missed seeing. Didn't America have the Three Little Pigs story? That pig with the wood stood no chance.
"Yeah, sure, I mean she had to come from somewhere, right?" Dean asked, dragging Harry away from thoughts of pigs and wolves and back to the case.
"Yep. Well, unless she's magical, then she can just apparate here. Doubtful though. So walls?" Harry asked, tapping at random points on the wall.
"Good thinking," Dean muttered before walking over to where he thought the had appeared from and tapping the walls, grinning when he found a board that wasn't as securely attached as the rest. "Yahtzee."
"Isn't that a game? And dear God, what the hell is that smell?" Harry asked, quickly covering his nose with his sleeve when they managed to pull the board away.
"How aren't you used to the smell of rotting carcasses by now?"
"I think I mentally repress it each time. Right, so give me the torch and I'll go see if I can find Timmy in the well."
"You mean, Danny, right? And why the hell are you going first?"
"Not first. Alone. And Danny, Timmy, same damn difference. Look, you don't like killing humans. I get that. It's very commendable. I mean, it's freaking naive and stupid, but hey, that's how you want to go about life. So anyway. Me? I have no trouble snuffing out the life of crazed psychos that possibly like the taste of human flesh," Harry pointed out even as he grabbed the torch from Dean and climbed into the hole.
"You honestly expect me to let you go down there alone?! Sam would kill me, dude!"
"Ardy probably would as well, but it's not like I'm giving you all that much of a choice. Tell you what, you can follow me down, but should something happen to either of us, don't be afraid to stab first and question later, yeah?" And with that Harry jumped down the hole, leaving Dean to curse and then follow after him with a little more caution.
"Please nobody grab my leg. Please nobody grab my leg," Dean muttered to himself, ignoring the snickering coming from Harry.
"You're leaving it wide open for me to freak you out. But no worries, neither of us are going to grab your leg."
"Neither of us? You're not alone? Oh God, we're gonna die." Dean muttered, finally getting to the bottom and then glaring at Harry when he saw him standing alone. "Why say neither of us? That just isn't cool."
"Hey, I was talking about me and the dog. And looking at him, he ain't gonna be grabbing anything except maybe in doggy heaven."
"You find any evidence of Danny down here?"
"Nope, not a smidgen. Now hows about you be quiet and we can hear if anyone is near us."
"You know, I hated films like this. Man, I hate humans," Dean muttered under his breath. Harry snorted softly and then tilted his head, listening to the sounds around him and ducking just in time, thus missing the large knife aimed for his head. "Dude!"
"Yeah, I know. Sheesh! Dean, get back up and find Sam! I can handle this!" Harry shouted just as he jarred the girl's wrist with his own and made her drop the knife.
"I can't leave you alone!"
"You're more a hinderance right now. Go help Sam," Harry hissed, dropping to a crouch and kicking the legs out from under the girl. The girl gave an enraged scream and lunged at him, hands claw like and aimed for his face. Harry just hissed back at her - he found hissing curses in parseltongue really gave him an edge in a fight, if only because they put his targets off - and slashed his knife at her, grinning when he slit along her arm.
The girl paused at this and gave another wordless scream, before dodging to the floor and making a grab for her knife. Harry quickly moved and kicked the knife out of the way, grinning to himself when he saw that Dean had followed his advice and was almost out of the hatch they came in through.
"Right then, girly, I'm really not in the mood, nor am I really dressed for fighting," Harry muttered, passing his knife from one hand to the other and moving his feet to get better balance.
The girl stared at Harry, tilting her head and baring her teeth in a wordless snarl before she moved and completely shocked (and disappointed) Harry by darting down the passage and back the way she had came. Harry went to follow her but gave it up as lost when he couldn't see where she'd disappeared to.
"Harry? You alright? Dude!" Dean yelled down after hearing Harry's somewhat loud curse. Harry grumbled under his breath and headed back to where they'd entered the wall cavity.
"I'm fine. The cowardly bitch ran off! She freaking ran off! Can you believe that?! Still, she did drop her knife, so that's something," Harry added, walking back to where he'd kicked the knife and picking it up with a grin. "I'm coming back up. Dunno if we should continue on this route. She kinda has the upper hand down here."
"You're right. Come back up and we'll go see if Sam has a better idea. If somethings gonna kill any of us, we can't go through the humiliation of it being a human."
"Tell me about it. Especially not a crazed, rabid, psycho-bitch from Hell," Harry grumbled as he heaved himself up the rope and out of the wall.
"So she just appeared out of nowhere?" Sam asked. The three of them were sitting on the steps of the house, keeping the shed with the scared family within their sights but keeping enough distance away that they could have the privacy to discuss the case.
"She's not got an ounce of magical ability in her so I very much doubt she appeared out of nowhere. Plus there wasn't a pop," Harry added almost as an after thought and getting a weird look from both brother. "Er… what I mean is, she came from somewhere, I just didn't see where. Which is why we returned here. She knows those walls better than we do. It just isn't a great idea to go poking about in those walls half blind."
"Harry's got a point. She has a huge advantage over us in that respect. We need a better plan," Dean said grumpily. Sam stared at them both and then picked up the book he'd brought out with him. "What's that?"
"Rebecca's diary. I finished reading it."
"And?" Harry and Dean asked, glancing at one another before turning their attention back to Sam.
"That girl back there? Pretty sure she was Rebecca's daughter," Sam told them, feeling a little satisfied at the stunned looks that piece of news got him.
"Rebecca had a kid?"
"It's all she talks about. Being pregnant, being ashamed of being pregnant."
"She friends with Hermione?" Harry grouched, getting an amused look from Sam, the only one of the two brothers to know of Harry's old friend.
"Huh? And back on topic, why'd she kill herself after the baby?"
"The shame doesn't give you a hint?" Harry asked dryly, grinning when Dean just glared at him.
"I think it was maybe because her dad called her a dirty little whore and said he was gonna lock the baby up," Sam suggested.
"That'll do it. Though I still can't understand why whores get such a bad press. Not like our customers can't say we don't please them. Wankers," Harry muttered under his breath. Dean gaped at him then glanced at Sam, who just looked like he was trying not to laugh.
"Right. I can safely say that neither me nor Sammy are going to dispute that. So… can we instead tell me why her father would imply it was a bad thing?" Dean asked, silently praying for patience and possibly a little more sanity. Sam just stared at him impassively, and Dean realised just why the dad had called her a whore. "Oh, gross."
"So, the daddy was the babydaddy too?" Dean asked.
"And I thought purebloods were creepy skeevs," Harry said with a grimace.
"Dude was a monster, guys."
"Wow. A story ripped from an Australian headline. Humans, man. So, she's been locked up her whole life?"
"You saw her eyes. Has she ever seen light? She's barely human," Sam told them with a grimace.
"Okay, so, what then; she's been caged up like an animal and she busts out and ganks dear old Dad? Slash Granddad?" Dean asked, getting a muffled giggle from Harry.
"Well, can't say I blame her."
"Here here," Harry agreed with a firm nod.
"I'm sure her life was hell, guys. It doesn't mean she gets a free pass for murder," Sam told them, bitchface firmly in place.
"Like you know what Hell's like."
"Awkward," Harry murmured, grinning when Dean turned his glare onto him.
"Is this really the time for you two to have a bitch fight? Really? Yes, Hell was a terrible, terrible place that we can't even imagine. Truly, we feel for you. Now, can we please go kill psycho-bitch?" Harry asked, feeling only a small niggle of guilt for brushing Dean's problems with Hell away so callously.
"Harry's right, forget it."
"So where do we find her?"
"Kid's gotta eat, right?" Dean asked, getting curious looks from both Sam and Harry.
"Given it's human, however barely that might be, I'm going to go with yes."
"Exactly. So I think I know where he fed her," Dean said with a grin.
"Ooh! The dense waiter. How did we not check here first?" Harry asked when Dean led them into the kitchen.
"Yeah, that," Harry said absently, waving Sam off as Dean managed to open a hole in the dumbwaiter.
"He could've kept her hidden here for years. Kept her fed, nobody would ever know," Sam said, ignoring Harry who was now eyeing up the knife block.
"Who goes first?" Dean asked, shining a torch into the hole he'd made and grimacing.
"Dibs!" Harry said, pulling his knife out and grinning in a feral way.
"Oh come on! I never get to kill the bad guy! Just this once let me have the fun!" Harry whined - and he would fully admit that he was whining.
"Harry, are you sure?"
"Dude, let him go down already. Harry, the kid's called Danny, not Timmy. Try to reassure him at least a little if he's down there," Dean told him, grinning when Harry gave him a wounded look.
"Dick. I can be reassuring," Harry muttered, almost like a pep talk before nodding, taking the offered torch from Sam and then carefully climbing down the shaft. Harry hit the bottom and quickly took his knife back out, glancing around cautiously and raising an eyebrow when he saw a rosary on the floor. Giving another cautious glance around, Harry quickly bent and picked the rosary up, brushing it off and looking at it. "Forgive me for this, yeah? Surely even you can see what I'm about to do is the lesser of two evils."
Harry then shoved the rosary into his pocket and then starts walking forward, grinning when he soon comes across a gun. Picking it up and checking it before placing it in his jeans waistband, he carried on walking and soon came across another gun.
"Eeesh, this bitch is worse than Malfoy for taking shit that doesn't belong to her. Either that or this is the worlds most fucked up trail. Danny?" Harry called out, grinning when he hears the sound of someone screaming. "Danny?"
Harry hurried forwards, leaving the other gun behind and finds a hole in the brick wall. Shining the torch through the hole, Harry sees Danny, bound and gagged. Harry quickly scurried through the hole and moved over to cut Danny's bonds, handing Danny the gun and then nudging him towards the hole.
"Your parents are waiting for you, kid. Come on and watch your head. I'll be right behind you. Just try not to shoot me, yeah?" Harry asked, absently wondering about the sanity of giving a kid a gun.
"Hurry, he's coming back," Danny told him nervously, holding the gun closer to him.
Harry didn't have time to answer that before someone yelled and he was tackled from the side, causing him to drop the torch but thankfully not the knife.
"Fuck!" Harry rolled with the tackle, kicking the body off of him and quickly scrambling back. "Kid, head back now!"
Harry dodged when the feral boy went to tackle him again, and managed to nick him with his knife. Unfortunately it just made the boy even angrier and he managed to tackle Harry to his back. Harry struggled with him, trying to find the best place stab him, yelling when the boy bit his hand. Harry snarled wordlessly and lunged up, stabbing his knife into the boy throat and turning his head to avoid the blood that gushed out of the wound.
Harry groaned quietly as he pushed the body off of him, cleaning his knife on the boys already filthy clothes and staggering to the hole. He walked back to the dumbwaiter and grinned when he saw Danny being dragged out and into the kitchen. Harry heaved a sigh and started to climb up the wall, dragging himself out of the hole at the top and lying on the floor in an exhausted heap.
"I'm so unfit," Harry groaned, getting the attention of the three in the kitchen.
"Harry! Are you alright? Shit!" Sam called out, leaving Dean to reassure Danny and rushing to kneel next to Harry.
"Chill, s'not my blood. Seriously though, I need to work out more. One fight and I'm knackered," Harry groaned, letting Sam help him to stand and looking over to where Danny and Dean were standing. "Should we go find your family then? And then the pscyho-sister? Oh yeah, there's two of them."
"What?! Who the hell did you gank then?" Dean asked, staring at Harry in shock.
"The brother, apparently."
Harry followed Dean and Sam out of the house with Danny walking beside him only to almost walk into Sam's back when the two brothers came to a sudden stop on the door step.
"Er… move?" Harry muttered, looking around Sam and mentally cursing his short height and Sam's freakish height. Then gaping at the sight of Brian and Ted standing over the feral girls body, with Susan and Kate huddled together in the door to the shed. "Okay…"
"Guys! You alright?"
"Mom! Dad!" Danny shouted, running around Dean and to his parents, getting engulfed in a hug by his mother.
"Well… least that saves us a job," Harry muttered, looking behind him to the house and mentally groaning at the thoughts of going through the walls and finding their weapons. He was not leaving without them.
"Can say that again. Does that mean we can leave now?" Dean muttered back, whilst the three of them watched the family reunion going on in front of them with blank faces.
"God, I hope so."
Harry sat on the steps to the house watching Dean finish changing the tyres of the Impala. He and Sam had hunted down every one of their weapons - most of which were in the same place, something both were thankful for - whilst Dean had sorted out of the cars. All three eager to get out of there, especially before the police arrived. Thankfully the family were grateful enough to them to wait until they'd left before calling the police.
"Thanks for the head start," Dean said to Brian as he lowered the Impala and Sam and Harry stood up and headed over to them.
"Why doesn't it surprise me you guys don't like the police?" Brian asked dryly, though shaking their hands.
"It's sort of a mutual-appreciation thing. Really."
"Well, thank you," Brian said with a small grin at them. Harry carefully shoved his bag of weapons back in the trunk of the car and closed it, walking back round to stand next to Sam.
"Thank you," Susan added, smiling brightly at them as she walked over to stand next to her husband. Ted standing near the house with the two kids, giving them a nod when they glanced over.
"You okay?" Dean asked them, sounding like he honestly cared. Something Harry found he certainly didn't.
"No, we're the opposite of okay, but we're together," Susan said, making Harry wonder just how cliched the woman was going to get before they would be able to leave. "Thanks."
"Good, now can we leave? I've got to get dressed before tonight," Harry muttered to Dean, who glanced at him and then nodded. The three shared exchanges with the family before finally climbing in the car and driving off, much to Harry's relief.
Harry moved to lean against the car next to Dean whilst Sam wandered off to buy their food. A glance to Dean showed he was deep in thought, though Harry could take a guess as to what he was thinking about.
"You ever going to tell Sam about Hell?" Harry asked quietly, glancing behind him to see that Sam had joined a fairly large queue in the diner.
"Tell him what? That I could understand what those sons of bitches back there were about? That I actually felt for them?" Dean asked him bitterly, making Harry wince a little before shrugging.
"That. And more. I think it'd help. I certainly don't think he'd turn you away. I don't actually think Sam is even capable of turning you away."
"He wouldn't understand."
"True. But maybe you should at least give him a chance."
"You think he'd be capable of getting it?"
"What? Like me? Probably not. What exactly do you want me to say?"
"There's nothing to say, is there? I enjoyed it, Harry. They took me off the rack and I tortured souls, and I liked it. All those years, all that pain. Finally getting to deal some out yourself. I didn't care who they put in front of me. Because that pain I felt, it just slipped away. No matter how many people I save, I can't chance that. I can't fill this hole. Not ever."
"You know my opinion of the people you tortured. In fact, you know my opinion of the whole thing. But my opinion isn't going to help you. His might though," Harry told him with a nod of his head towards where Sam was heading back to them. Dean glanced at him before following his line of sight and silently staring at Sam, not giving Harry an answer.
A/N - So! Not quite a year this time, which is something. And Harry finally gets to join the fight, which is what quite a few of you were asking about. About that though, I get that for us it's been soooo long, but bare in mind, for Harry it's barely been two months since Dean has come back and joined him and Sam, so give him a break, he's not exactly used to hunting. He is slowly getting into the swing of things though, and when he starts to get more used to fighting the things Sam and Dean have been hunting almost all their lives, then he'll start being even more useful to the brothers.
I have no idea when the next chapter will be up! I do have a life outside of fanfiction (shocking, I know), and I'm busy travelling the country going to different cons with my business. So yeah, patience is always appreciated there! :D On a brighter note, I have plotted out what's going to happen and I know how this is now going to end, so that's something! I also know exactly when Ruby is finally going to get her just desserts. So yeah. Patience is a virtue and all that, and I'll try to have the next chapter up when I can! Cheers for bearing with me!
P.S. Asbestosis is a real thing and is lethal… though not as quick acting as Harry implies. :D