So yeah, I wrote a fic with Mr. Harris as a main character.
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.
It's been a long time since he's ever been killed. It has to be. It has to be for his mind to forget like that, for his brain to become too wrapped up in something that he forgets himself. But he always forgets himself, forgets who and what he is, becomes lost within the human form he wears up until he dies. It's frustrating this cycle of memory and lapse. But death is surprisingly refreshing. It clears away the cobwebs, the decades of clutter of an increasingly human brain. But at least not all of him is lost, some always remains to ensure that he gets caught up in the preternatural. It is embarrassing, he admits to himself, to be killed by a darach, to work for one. Less embarrassing though, than to be killed by a human.
Adrian Harris comtemplates all of this as he crawls out of the grave the humans have put him in. It's been a long time he's lain there, months at least. The grass has grown well over the patch of earth that holds him and their roots are strong. He grimaces at the dirt smeared over him. Then he begins to walk, figuring at least one of his safe houses are still there.
One of them is still there and he cleans up and then prepares himself to leave. It's difficult. The nematon still draws him. It's why he came here so long ago. Guilt he thinks kept him, the Hales... He prefers not to think about it. But he does leave. There are other nematons, other places of power that make his choice of abode comfortable.
Months later he finds himself in France. He isn't Adrian Harris anymore, he's Karl Graves and he doesn't look quite the same. But he is still recognizably himself, sans glasses. He's recognizable enough that when she sees him she knows who he is right away.
"Mr. Harris," she says sounding puzzled because she knows he's dead. But then again he knows that so is she. He looks up at her puzzled question to see Allison Argent standing by his table frowning at him.
He see no reason to pretend he isn't who she knows he is so he says, "Allison Argent. I didn't expect to see you here."
"But," she says and she's still frowning. After a moment she sits and stares at him. "You're dead," she told him.
"And so are you," he replies. "A mugging was it? Though I hear whispers that it was by an Oni's blade."
She stiffens but then deliberately relaxes. She is dead and so is he. But he can see that she is more dead that he is. He can see it in the way she is just bit insubstantial, see in the way he can see though her a bit, even though he doubts that the humans around here would notice the difference in her.
"You're not human," she says after studying him for a moment.
"I never was," he admits with a shrug.
"Then why…?" her brow creases in confusion.
"My own particular curse you might say," he replies, sipping from his coffee. "Though I see you've done wonderful things with death."
Allison gives him a look but allows him to nudge away the conversation for a bit "I made a choice," she said, "It turns out that I can do quite a bit good, even dead."
"So life as a shade is suiting you?" he inquires.
"As well as France seems to be treating you," she returns pointedly. She tilts her head and smiles beatifically at him. "So how did you survive death? Because you surely aren't dead anymore."
He shrugs and waves a hand. "Death is a part of my cycle. And that is one that lasts far longer than any human's."
She absorbs this and then says, still smiling, "May I assume you won't be going around eating people now?"
Harris snorts. "I have never eaten human flesh for thousands of years girl. And I can tell you I never fancied it." He smiles at her and the smile is all edged in ways that show just a little of what he is. "I far prefer fine, cooked cuisine. Currently I'm sampling the french cooking all over again."
"I noticed," she said, her tone somewhere between dry and arched. She hadn't so much as flinched but he'd felt the way she'd readied herself in tense the glimpse he had shown her.
"Well If I can trust you not to start eating the locals, I will leave you to your meal then," she says and stands up from the table. "If not, I suppose we will meet again."
Her clothes shimmers for a moment and he sees the casual outfit give way to back leather gear and there is a bow in her hand. Then the casual is back and she is smiling at him.
"I suppose," he says, but he doubts.
"It was an interesting meeting Mr. Harris," she says. And then she nods and he nods back at her and then she is gone weaving her way through the crowds and after a moment she really is gone, fading away to a place the human eye, and even his, cannot see.
It was an interesting meeting. But he really does doubt they'll ever have cause to cross paths again. He still hasn't finished figuring out his beloved chemistry yet. He's figured out biology, all of it, years and years ago but not, chemistry, not yet. He doubts he'll ever go in depth with physics, it never really intrigued him.
And so thinking he settles into his new life, the start of his endless cycle all over again. He wonders in passing if the shade hunter will still be around when he dies and wakes again.
Review my weird fic please!