I turned my back
You were gone in a flash
Like you always do
You've always gone off
Somewhere else
And when the phone rang
And I thought it was you
And I sprung like a kid
Who just got out of school
But its almost
Always never you
Never you
I scream like a child
My insides went wild
When I'm alone with you, you make me feel, you make me feel
When I'm alone with you, you are the one, you are the one
When I reach out and I only grab air
And it kills me to think
That you never did care and it's hopeless
You've always gone off somewhere else
And I'm throwing a tantrum
Why are you such a phantom
Reminds me of home
When you're around me
Next time you leave
Don't go without me
(When I'm alone – Lissie)
Harry wasn't at work when Sam called. Actually Harry hadn't been at work since he brok-…since he lef-….Harry sighed. Since he came back to London. He scrubbed the plate in his wet hands just a bit harder. He hadn't even left his flat yet. It wasn't like he was running away from his problems ( He wasn't). He just didn't want to hear Hermione's:
"I told you, that you two would never work out. You two just aren't compatible."
Or Ron's:
"I told you that there wouldn't come anything good out of that relationship! He's a hunter and he's a little son of-"….blah blah blah
Whatever.
Harry had known that. Had known that Sam had cheated on him while he offed the world of Voldemort. Had known what kind of problems his other half had. He just hadn't had the bloody time to go and hold Sam's hand!
Fine, maybe Dean had died and come back from hell and Sam hadn't known what to do but that didn't excuse him for that. And maybe their relationship hadn't been that serious back then but it had been goddamn there. And Sam hadn't cared for Harry and hell, no one could tell him that Sam had thought about Dean or him when he had sucked Ruby's fucking blood out of her veins.
The ceramic in his hand broke in a million little shards that imbedded themselves firmly into his hands. Harry cursed colorfully and let the rest of the plate fall into the sink with a crash. The water slowly turned red from the blood that steadily dropped from his shaking hands and Harry glared at them angrily. He suppressed the pain from all the tiny splinters and tried to calm himself down.
When he felt calm enough Harry tried to get his wand from his wrist holster without actually holding it with his hands. Which was more difficult than it sounded.
He tried to shove it out of his holster with his other wrist but needed a few minutes to actually get it right. He then carefully took his wand in his left hand and then proceeded to slowly get the shards out with a summoning charm. It hurt like a bitch.
When he was done with his left hand and healed it, his whole face was red with the effort to not shriek like a little girl. He clenched his hand a few times and then healed his right.
When Harry was done, a fine sheen of sweat was on his brow. Since the war he had become downright tender to any pain. It was like his body had decided that 18 years of abuse was enough, thank you very much sir, and had gone into oversensitive-mode. Harry snarled quietly. Of course his body couldn't just get used to it, no it had to get freakin' oversensitive. Typical.
He fought a war against the most evil person of all time and what did he get? His body rebelled, his boyfriend cheated on him and the press was intent on getting his whole life out into the world. And behind all the sarcasm and rage Harry just felt tired and maybe even a bit…alone. Like nobody cared.
Sometimes he was almost sure that no one did care.
It still hurt to think about Sam. It hurt like hell. Harry snickered quietly to himself without any humor. Dean wouldn't have appreciated that joke.
And it didn't really help the situation that Sam hadn't called one single time since Harry was back in the UK. The green-eyed man slowly bent down and picked the shards from the broken plate up from the floor. The hunter hadn't called to ask him how he was, hadn't asked him to come back, hadn't apologiz-…
Harry heaved. Of course Sam wouldn't, Sam didn't need him and…
"…yeah! So I fucked Ruby! At least she didn't lie under me like a fucking carcass-.."
Harry pressed his eyes together so tightly, that he saw white stars on the insides of his eyelids. His feelings were slowly killing him from the inside. Until now he'd suppressed everything that had had something to do with the break-up, but it seemed like today just wasn't one of these, where he could pretend that everything was alright. That he was here on a nice little holiday. That he would go back to his cozy home in a few days. Back to Sam.
He tried to suppress the images of him sprinting to the phone whenever it rang, thinking it was Sam. And every time it was the same. Every time he'd be disappointed and seriously, he couldn't take much more. Couldn't take his heart breaking over and over again.
But he had left. Harry had gone. Had packed his things and closed the door to their relationship.
It was for the better. Or was it? Sam had become so much of an arsehole in the last months Harry had even been a bit relieved that he didn't have to be there, to take the daily fights anymore.
Maybe Sam had been like that ever since the war was over and Harry had come back to help the brothers. Maybe Harry just hadn't seen it. Maybe he had been so blinded from his sudden freedom and the joy to finally see Sam again that he had blended everything out that hadn't fit into his nice, little fairytale-life. He had just ignored Sam's problems with the demon blood, his loss problems, his life problems.
But Harry had just been so through with all of that shit. Had been so through with all of his own problems.
And when Dean had gone back to Lisa and Ben; the wizard had thought that maybe now, finally was his time to have a real family too. To have someone for himself, who would love him no matter what. To be happy for once without anyone trying to rip it from his arms. Well, he'd done that himself it seemed.
Harry bitterly smiled to himself. He didn't need some old headmaster or dark overlord to ruin his life, he could do it all on his own. What fucking irony. And hadn't he always thought that he would do everything better? That he would finally live his life? Bullshit.
What. A. Load. Of. Bullshit
He hurt worse than ever. He hurt more than he ever had while fighting his war. The image of him and Sam together just was ingrained so deep in his images of the future that…that…
"You're not the only hot guy on this planet!", Harry roared with flashing eyes. Sam stood up and the chair he was sitting on crashed backwards, as he shouted right back:
"Then just go! I don't fucking need you here! It's not like you are doing anything besides nagging! Not everyone's life is all roses and butterfly's like yours! Just go and get yourself some wimp, whose going to kiss the bloody ground you walk over!"
Harry stormed angrily over to Sam but before he could actually do something the much taller and stronger man had flipped him around so they were chest to back, held his hands with his larger one captured and with that had the wizard in a harsh grip. He struggled while cursing Sam until he could hear the man in question chuckling darkly against his neck.
Harry froze and waited.
His breath slowly evened out again and he flinched when Sam rubbed his stubble against his throat, his longish hair falling in Harry's eyes. Harry closed his eyes and gradually relaxed again. He could practically feel the anger leaving him and there was nothing that filled the space.
Harry limply hung in Sam's arms. The hunter released his grip on him tentatively and Harry cautiously turned around to face his boyfriend. The Winchesters eyes were dark with lust as he grabbed Harry; one arm around his waist, the other one behind his head.
He kissed Harry with open eyes and Harry stared right back.
They kissed languidly almost lazily until Harry's eyes fell shut. Sam broke the kiss after a moment and scooped Harry up into his arms and carried him up the bedroom bridal style the whole time looking into each other's eyes. Searching. Assessing.
Harry slowly stood up from where he was still crouched over the floor and looked out of the window. It was still early in the morning. He carefully placed the shards in the sink and then washed his hands. The black-haired man then slowly walked into his living-room. Had he deep down known that he would come back here into his old apartment? Had that been the reason he hadn't wanted to sell it? Had he known that their relationship would break?
Had he known in that quiet moment back then that he an Sam would slowly but surely break apart?
The wizard sat himself down on his favorite armchair and wandlessly summoned a bottle of fire-whiskey and a shotglass to himself. But as soon as Harry saw the bottle he felt nauseous and bile rose in his throat.
"Just stop drinking!", Harry cried desperately. Sam didn't seem to listen as he took another gulp from the already half empty bottle.
"I can think for myself, Harry! Just stop bot-bothering me!" Sam slurred back trying to keep Harry from his precious bottle full of alcohol. He cleverly avoided Harry's attempt of getting the bottle until his boyfriend had had enough and just summoned the flask into his hand. Sam needed a minute to fully understand the fact that his well of happiness had vanished, but when he noticed he whipped his head back to Harry.
Harry glared at him. Sam stumbeled over to him and then reached for the bottle. He growled at Harry dangerously:
"Give it to me."
Harry pressed his lips together and shook his head. Sam slowly walked over to his boyfriend and then said again:
"Harry. Give it to me. Now."
Harry protectively held the bottle behind his back trying not to get intimidated by Sam's behavior. Suddenly Sam stood right before him and Harry flinched back almost violently. The hunter pushed Harry roughly against the wall and the wizards green eyes widened. The bottle fell to the ground with a crash.
"Sam! Stop!" He didn't want to fucking hex him just because the man couldn't get his alcohol problems under control! But when Sam put a hand around Harry's throat he'd had enough. The wizard whipped out his wand and cast a panicked Expelliarmus on Sam who got thrown back harshly.
Sam crashed to the floor with a groan. The youngest Winchester just stayed on the floor and grunted drunkenly. Harry looked at him distrustfully, his wand still in his hand just in case. When it looked like Sam wouldn't stand up again he slowly walked up to him.
This wasn't the man he loved, Harry realized, when he saw that Sam was so drunk that he couldn't even stand up anymore. This was a shadow of the man that couldn't hurt a fly, that had cuddled with him in the evening and who had hated men who just drank for the sake of drinking.
The worst thing was, Harry didn't know where his Sam was.
Because he sure as hell didn't love this one.
Harry looked at the alcohol with heavily-lidded eyes and the need to scream. He then shoved it away from him and put his face into his hands. He wouldn't admit it to himself later but then Harry Potter did something he hadn't done in years.
He cried.
He cried for every bad word between him and Sam. He cried for the lost love and all the hurt. He cried for Ben and Dean and Lisa whom he would probably never see again. He cried for Sam and his many problems which would probably haunt him his whole life. He cried for all the lost time spent on daydreams.
And for the first and probably last time he cried for himself too. He cried for himself because he wouldn't ever have his dreams come true with Sam. He cried for himself because he could never let Teddy meet Sam. He cried for so much and in the end for nothing. Because maybe his break-up with Sam was a catastrophe for him but the world still went on and Harry could adjust to that or wallow on in his misery.
When Harry could think rationally again he actually felt better. It didn't feel like he would get over Sam anytime soon but at least-…
In that moment the telephone rang. Harry heard it ring for a minute and then decided to ignore it. May as well start with getting rid of old habits; such as running to the phone because he thought his ex would call. Harry frowned his face still buried in his hands. When he said it like that it sounded so pathetic and weak…
Just then his answering machine beeped. Harry looked up slowly just to see a red "SAM" flash on the display and then someone started talking. The wizard needed a minute to get over his initial shock to actually listen to what the voice-mail said.
"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry." Sam's scratchy voice greeted him and Harry sank his nails into his armchair to restrain himself. He didn't know if it was because he'd go over and talk to Sam or because he would smash his phone into the nearest wall.
"…I'm sorry that I nearly hit you and I'm sorry for the all those little things I should have known but didn't. I'm sorry for causing you so much pain. You don't know how sorry I am."
Harry's face pinched and his nails dug deeper. Sam wasn't sorry he just wanted somethi-
"I'm sorry for everything I didn't tell you. How amazing you are an-…"
The voice cracked and Harry caught himself asking if it was because of the Trans-Atlantic call or because Sam really was sorry. Maybe he learned something and really wanted to change things…
"I'm sorry for not caring enough to really meet all your friends and your godson. I'm sorry for always being away on hunts and leaving you all alone, waiting if I make it back or not. I'm sorry for all of my lies and…."
A wet-sounding cough abounded over the phone and Harry started to worry. Maybe Sam had been injured and now wanted to call Harry to make things right or something like that. But still, he kept on sitting. Because Harry knew as soon as he would stand up from his chair with Sam still on the phone, he would be irreversibly lost.
"And I'm sorry for not telling you how much I love you every single day. I'm sorry for all of those things and I really hope that you can forgive me some time in the future."
There was a slight pause as Sam hesitated and Harry asked himself if it would be really so bad to go back.
"I love you. That's what I'll always do."
Harry froze. His mind couldn't comprehend what was being said and his face was contorted in shock. In all of their years together Sam had only said the three words a couple of times and they never had sounded that…that…
Harry was lost for words.
When it looked like Sam would hang up any minute jolt went through Harry's body and he had stood up and gone over to the phone before he even knew what he was doing. He stared down at the phone for another second and then lifted the speaker to his ear with shaking hands and wide eyes. Harry then hesitantly asked, hoping it wasn't too late:
"Sam?"
A/N: Guess I just wanted to see Harry getting "over" Sam and then addicted all over again. Sheesh I wrote so much angst in the last week that I'm seriously asking myself if it's a side-effect from my new school…whatever, the next crossover is already planned out and its going to be angsty, too….Oh Oh…:-D
Thanks for readin'!
