Mad World, a Harry Potter + Supernatural Crossover fanfic

Disclaimer: Do not own.
Word Count: 1, 079
Title: Mad World
Summary: Maybe… Maybe… Maybe… So many maybes and only one definite. He was going to die.
Warnings: I'm not sure...
Song: Mad World~ Gary Jules
A/N: Not sure what the song has to do with this but whatever... Please review?

-0-

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

-0-

Harry sighed, running a hand through shoulder length hair. He had to accept it; he had to be able to go willingly, no regrets. The world had depended on it! What was one measly soul compared to millions of lives—billions of lives? Nothing, that's what, nothing. Not even Harry Potter's. It was just a deal… Just a soul.

Glancing around his motel room, Harry stopped in front of the dirty mirror and grimaced. He looked like shit. Green eyes were dull and black hair greasy. Maybe he would get cleaned up before going… Maybe he would hit the bar and enjoy his last few hours. Maybe… Maybe… Maybe… So many maybes and only one definite.

He was going to die.

-0-

And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very mad world mad world

-0-

Loud music pounded, bodies danced close and drinks were being passed around, but nothing seemed to lift his spirit. Not even the man who had ordered him a whiskey… It was all blurring together. The faces of the patrons, but one stood out, hazel eyes and light brown hair. A chiseled face that sent chills down his spine. Striding over to him, Harry raised his glass, alcohol sloshing back and forth.

"You look like it's your last night on Earth," the man's eyes roved his face, searching for something.

Harry grinned, "Doesn't it always feel like that?"

The man raised an eyebrow and saluted him with his beer bottle. He hummed, "Touché, my friend, touché." He took a deep drink, "Why are you here tonight, Harry?"

"I could ask the same of you, Dean. But, you know, it's kind of hard to imagine a dead man sitting here drinking beer with me. Unless, of course, you've magically been alive for over two years and didn't manage to get in touch with your step- brother. I might just have to hit you." Harry's green eyes twinkled a little bit before becoming dull again. "You know, when Sam called me and told me you were alive… I wanted to scream at him and to call him a liar. I held you as you died. I felt your blood wash over my hands. I saw the Hell Hounds drag you to hell… But, hell, you're a Winchester. And, Winchesters never seem to stay dead, do they?"

-0-

Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
And I feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me

-0-

Dean smiled faintly, eyes never leaving Harry's. "I didn't want to bring you back into the never ending fight. I figured you would have found someone by the time I got back. Settled down, maybe even started a family. I just didn't want to bother you."

"Dean Winchester, caring and not wanting to bother somebody? It's amazing… The world is ending!" Harry threw his hands up into the air, and ignored the whiskey that went flying.

"Been there, don't want to go back," Dean smirked. "Wasn't as fun as most people like to think."

Harry hummed deep in his throat. Hands fingered the bottom of his shirt; he pulled on a loose thread as his mind wandered over the possibilities. "Where's Sam?" He asked, eyes flitting down to the wood floors.

"Gone." Dean doesn't explain and Harry doesn't ask him to, they both knew what that meant.

"Dean?" Harry's voice was timid and when he met Dean's eyes, his own were wet with tears. "I'm going to die." Dean froze, eyes widening, and then, suddenly he was standing up and dragging Harry to his Impala. "Its not a maybe, Dean. It's a fact; I sold my soul once you died. I soled my soul because I didn't think Sam would be able to manage without you. Yes, the Angels pulled you out, but the power from my deal helped."

"You're an idiot." Dean whispered, tugging at his hair. "I'm not going to have anyone left once you're gone. Sam's gone. Bobby's gone. Cas has left. And Lisa has dumped me. Why? Harry, why?" His voice faded off into a low moan.

Harry paused, this wasn't like Dean. Dean was confident and cocky and snarky… Dean was the badass who helped him defeat Voldemort and get a handle on his powers. Dean helped him shop and learn how to be a hunter… Dean was his step- brother and meant the world to him. Dean couldn't be so broken. It wasn't right; it wasn't the way he was made. He was supposed to be the last one who broke; he was the one who held everyone together…

He broke. He broke hard and Harry wanted to cry. He would have but seeing the few tears leak from Dean's eyes dried his up quick. He wouldn't be selfish and ask comfort from Dean… Dean was the one who needed to be comforted. He did, and it was all Harry's fault.

Harry slowly pulled Dean into his arms and leant up against the Impala. "Dean," he whispered, "its not your fault…"

-0-

Harry closed his eyes and waited with bated breath as he heard the howls and growls that had been following him for a week. The last thing he heard before he was ripped to pieces froze his heart.

"'Ello love, come to play?"

A/n: So, not sure what this is... Wrote it in about thirty minutes. Please review?