Disclaimer: not mine, borrowed and nurtured. A/N: Set after Battle of Hogwarts for HP and after 'Swan Song' Episode 5:22 where Sam and Adam fall into hell for SPN. AU mostly. Edited: 21/04/19.

1.

Haunted

Dean Winchester was bloodied and crushed; he leant his head against his precious '67 Chevrolet Impala. Lucifer/Sam was gone; so was Michael/Adam. His two brothers had been sucked into hell, controlled by beings who used them as pawns, leaving him behind; lost and alone.

The apocalypse was over. He wasn't sure when or how he managed to get up, but he was alive, just. He pulled an unconscious Bobby into the back seat of the Impala and walked over to where Castiel had exploded. His friend, the fallen angel, had vanished, presumed dead like everyone he knew or loved; Jo, Ellen, John, Mary, Sam, Adam.

Was he cursed?

How was he going to get Sammy back?

Bobby would know.

Once he'd wrapped his sprained hand in the end of his shirt, he started the Impala - the only thing left in one piece and squinted out of the windscreen with his crushed eye and blood-stained face. He drove to the nearest hospital; he wasn't sure how long he could stay conscious.

Dean pulled up outside a small hospital. He pushed open the door with the last of his strength and his chest must have hit the horn because it gave one loud PARP before he blacked out. Luckily, a doctor who witnessed their arrival, saw them and started yelling orders at his co-workers to help.

"Get him on the stretcher. There's another badly beaten, God knows what happened. Quick!"

Dean stirred as he was lifted on the stretcher. His eyes were closed and his head spinning. He slipped in and out of consciousness. The babble confused him, and his limp hand flopped to his side: his keys to his precious car clattered to the floor, ignored by all, except one.

The boy was about seventeen, tall for his age with dark rings beneath his eyes like he'd suffered something more horrific than the men who'd just arrived. He seemed lost too: unsure of how he had landed in a muggle hospital when his home was recovering from a war.

He was one of those lucky few that survived.

The boy saw the man drop the keys and he knelt to pick them up. Curious as to where they had come from, he retraced their path – down the steps, over the gravel path and stopped in front of what the muggles called a car, because they did not know of Floo powder, brooms or apparition.

By chance he put the key in the car lock and the door opened.

Since they were inside, the boy curled up on the back seat.

It was warm and quiet there.

His eyes closed and he saw the nightmares unfold; people screaming, turrets burning, green flashes of light and families being torn apart. He'd lived through the Battle of Hogwarts and he'd escaped the magical world, but it didn't want to escape him.

Draco Malfoy pulled an old jumper under his head and took in his surroundings. There was a name scratched into the side of the car - Dean. He peered closer and saw it was actually two names. Dean & Sam. He wondered what had happened to them to be so badly hurt.

Was there a war here too?

He didn't think about it much, because his head hurt from sleep deprivation. He nodded off somewhere between screaming out for his mother and running for his life while flames engulfed the Room of Requirement and gobbled up his friend, Vincent Crabbe.

Draco did not remember how he came to be in this world, but the two worlds were not so different. One believed in magic; in a school of Witchcraft & Wizardry and a Minister of Magic. The other, believed in the supernatural; ghosts, werewolves, skins, Hell-Hounds, angels, demons and Death. Muggles called it 'fantasy', but it was in fact, a reality for both Draco and Dean.

Those oblivious to which world they belonged to were non-believers. The ones who carried on their life without a care in the world; a world of no imagination. They didn't see what was right in front of them until they became the victims.

Draco, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy had escaped the Dark Lord's demise and their part in it.

He'd became separated from them when leaving Hogwarts. He didn't remember when or why. He couldn't shake Lavender Brown's screams from his mind. Fearful children: ripped robes and raging centaurs. Bodies everywhere…. he was wand-less, and alone. He glimpsed one last look of Hogwarts before a curse hit him and something warm and sticky dribbled down his cheek.

He apparated, but nowhere was safe.

When Draco stirred, he was lying face down in the middle of a gravel drive. His head was numb and after touching it with sore, heavy arms, he knew it was blood. Was he dead? He wouldn't be surprised if he was, after everything. He lifted his head to see his surroundings. It was night, but there was a hint of gold on the hills, indicating a new day on the horizon.

He pulled himself up and swayed. Wherever he was it was not somewhere familiar. The drive was vast and dry. He must be in the country. There was only one building in front of him, the rest of the paddocks were made up of long grass, trees and strange poles with wires connecting them. He set out to walk to the strange building, hoping someone could help him – maybe they also had wand.

"There's someone in there, see."

The following morning, a patient pointed at the Impala's window, shocked to have discovered a boy inside it. Another man, wearing a stethoscope and scrubs peered inside, assessing the boy's injuries.

"But I was sure there were only two bodies - he doesn't look too bad."

"Isn't he that kid, from two weeks ago?" the patient queried, leaning against a cane.

The doctor furrowed his brow, thinking. "Is he?"

The man nodded, "Yeah, wandered in off the street, head cracked open. Had surgery, came out alright, but hasn't spoken a word of his ordeal. Room 12."

The doctor rubbed his neck, remembering vaguely of the kid's arrival. They were a small town, and lately, they'd been run off their feet with an influx of patients – some completely new faces.

"Well, we better get him back to where he came from," the doctor sighed, tapping on the window.

The boy was in such a deep sleep he didn't budge. The doctor opened the door, surprised to see the boy had neglected to lock himself in. "How did you get out of your room?" the doctor asked, loudly.

Draco sat up, rubbing his eyes, after a blissful sleep.

"The door was unlocked. You were busy with those two men to notice me slip out."

The other patient, Constantine, as his name-badge read, prompted him with another question.

"You expect me to sleep on those hard mattresses?"

The Doctor massaged his exhausted eyeballs, this one was giving him a headache.

"Come inside, out of the cold. I'll give you a new mattress, anything you want."

Draco ran his hand through his blond hair, feeling the 'stitches' the muggle doctors had used to sew his head together. He really wished he could get his hands on a wand.

"You never gave me a new mattress!" Constantine complained, returning to the front of the car.

"You never asked."

Draco swung his legs from the Impala, and shut the door, with one request.

"Can you take me to the Leaky Cauldron in London?"

The Doctor and Constantine snorted, bursting into laughter.

"On this salary? That's not possible. Besides, you have no ID or passport. You won't be going anywhere until we find your next of kin, because you're still a minor," the doctor explained.

"I'm seventeen!" Draco retorted, slamming the car door in annoyance.

The doctor responded with a hand on Draco's shoulder, in-case the boy had other ideas.

"Not sure what world you're from, but here in America, you're of age when you turn twenty-one."

Draco sighed, shivering as the wind picked up.

"I don't know where my family is. The Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort attacked Hogwarts," Draco turned pale. "I had no choice; they would've killed me. Crabbe is dead because of me," the doctor noticed Draco's paranoid behaviour - jumping at the phone; stopping to stare, terrified, at empty air.

"I'm a coward, like my father."

Draco let the tears run down his haunted face as screams of the doomed rang in his ears.

Constantine leaned on his cane and exchanged a pressing look with his doctor.

"He definitely needs help," he concluded.

Draco leaned against the muggle, energy waning, as though Dementors lurked nearby. Back to his room and hard mattress, back to observing the other patients; some with horrific wounds, some who looked fine, but in some way or another convinced you they weren't.

"I'll move you into a private room as soon as one becomes available."

Draco swung his feet under the white covers of the scratchy hospital blankets. His head hit the pillow and his tear-soaked face turned to the doctor with a pleading whisper:

"Can you make them go away?"

"Make what go away?"

"The nightmares."

The doctor didn't know what or who Death Eaters were or recognise anyone named Lord Voldemort – it sounded like a cult and he'd heard of a few dangerous cults in his lifetime. If this boy had suffered at the hands of a cult, it was his duty to look after him, and to keep him safe.

"Get some sleep," the doctor offered, checking the boy's chart.

"You said I could ask for anything?"

The doctor decided to oblige the poor boy, leaving the room to get some medication.

Draco saw the two owners of the Impala sleeping nearby and wondered which was Sam, and which was Dean, and whether they were father and son. The doctor returned and instructed Draco to swallow two sleeping pills. After Draco's eyelids drooped, he stayed, pen poised on a notepad, hoping to discover more.

Dean's dreams were not peaceful, like those beside him. He dreamt of the brothers. It was their fight not his; not Sam's. Dean heard Lucifer's voice loud in his ears. He sat in the Impala, waiting to interrupt them, to get a message to his doomed brother.

"He made me who I am. God wanted the devil," Lucifer/Sam said.

"So?" Michael/Adam asked, with furrowed brows.

"So why? Why make us fight? I can't figure out the point," Lucifer continued.

"What's your point?" Michael wanted to get it over with.

"We're going to kill each other and for what? One of dad's tests? We're brothers, let's just walk off the chessboard," Lucifer reasoned.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that, I'm a good son and I have my orders." Michael stepped forward.

"You don't have to follow them," Lucifer whispered.

"You think I'm going to rebel now? I'm not like you," Michael spat.

"Please Michael."

"No, you haven't changed a bit, little brother, always blaming everyone but yourself. We were together, we were happy, but you betrayed me, all of us. And you made our father leave."

"No one makes dad do anything."

"You're a monster Lucifer and that's the way it has to be."

"If that's the way it has to be, then I'd like to see you try."

Dean knew now was the time. He came towards them, safe in his car, while they just stared, dumbfounded like they never thought he'd try it. It was his fight, so long as Sammy was involved, and if he could save Adam, he'd darn well try. He called out, with one last ounce of hope.

"Hey, we need to talk?"

"Dean, even for you, this is a whole new mountain of stupid," Lucifer replied.

"I'm not talking to you; I'm talking to Sam," Dean said.

He knew Sam could still hear him, even though he was being possessed by the Devil himself.

"You're no longer the vessel Dean, you've got no right to be here," Michael sounded mad.

Strange, Dean was buying him some valuable time, before they all went to Hell.

"Adam, if you are in there, I'm so sorry," Dean whispered.

He was the son who was meant to escape it all, that's what John Winchester, their father, had tried to do, protect him from the nightmares - Dean had failed him, yet again.

"Adam isn't home right now," Lucifer smirked.

"Well, you're next on my list buttercup, but right now I need five minutes," Dean said.

"You little maggot, you are no longer a part of this story!" Michael snapped.

"Hey, ASS-butt!"

Castiel threw a grenade filled with holy water at Adam's chest and to everyone's surprise, he writhed in agony until his face burned off and he burst in a ball of flames.

"Ass-but? Seriously?"

Relieved, they were one brother down, Dean braced for Lucifer's reaction.

"Did you just deliberately blow up my brother? That is my right, Castiel."

Castiel backed away but he'd already lost his powers. He was no match for Lucifer's snap of fingers which snapped him into a bloody heap of mutilated corpse. Dean gaped as his friend, the angel, exploded and his hatred for Lucifer bubbled beneath his skin. Hot tears burned his eyeballs.

"I've tried to be nice for Sammy's sake, but you have been such a pain in my ass."

Lucifer threw Dean onto his back and held him in a choke hold. Dean was sure he'd cracked his tail-bone, or maybe even his spine, but he'd made a promise to protect his brother, always.

Sam wasn't the one doing this, it was the Devil.

The sound of a gunshot rang out.

Lucifer released Dean; his hands found a new target – Bobby.

Both Bobby and Castiel had been murdered, he was alone with his brother.

"And now we end this."

Lucifer's fist met the side of Dean's jaw, he felt it dislocate. Several punches pounded his face and stomach until Dean, hardly recognisable and almost to the state of unconscious reached out and grabbed Sam's sleeve.

"Sammy, it's ok, I'm here. I'm not going to leave you."

It was at this point Dean's fingers began slipping, but Sam felt them, and he fought for control of his body with images of memories he'd shared with his big brother. Millions of them, more than Lucifer would have known existed and it was enough for him to gain some control, if only for a minute.

"It's ok, Dean, it's going to be ok. I've got him."

Sam let go of Dean and threw the rings on the ground, whispering the spell quickly.

Dean waited for what he knew was coming; his brother's sacrifice.

"Sam! It's not going to end this way. I have to fight my brother, here and now, it's my destiny."

Michael ran toward them, but he was too late.

Sam shrugged with a smile and opened his arms to Death. His eyes closed, showing no fear.

Adam reached out to stop him, but Sam knew it was the only way.

He grabbed Adam's hand and yanked him into the darkness.

It was here Dean screamed for Sam and woke up in a sweaty mess of tangled bed sheets, while Bobby blinked at him from the adjacent bed.

A/N: Please review x