Part Six

Harry blinked the spots out of his eyes as Sam leaned against the door and let a man who had to be his father splash a line of holy water in his face.

"Christo." Dean snapped behind him and Harry relaxed. This had to be the Winchester version of Bobby's shot-test.

He rather liked Bobby's way of interrogation better.

Sam and John stared intently at him, waiting for some kind of reaction but Harry just relaxed in Dean's hold and sighed.

"I really wish you would stop throwing drinks at me. It's getting to be an annoying habit."

Sam cracked up and John sighed.

"He's clean." The old man said to Dean, who slowly eased their intertwined hands away from Harry's neck and stepped back. The ex-wizard missed the heat along his back before he shook the thought out of his head.

"Was that really necessary? Given the choice, I would have liked my holy water in a shot glass rather than thrown in my face."

"He does know Bobby," John said with a wry smile.

Dean made to move around him, smacking him in the back with his shoulder instead.

"Sorry." He muttered, scowling as Sam roared with laughter again.

Harry winced and rubbed the spot painfully. "It's alright."

Dean strode away, scrubbing at his hair tiredly.

John opened his mouth to say something to his oldest when Harry's mobile went off startling them all.

He pried it out of his back pocket and sighed as he saw the name on the front display.

'Caleb.'

The ring tone- some kind of high-pitched chime that Harry could hear no matter where the damn mobile wedged itself- cut off after a few rings. He frowned; usually Caleb waited until his voice mail picked up.

The ring tone sounded again, his friend and mentor's name flashing on the display. Harry resisted the urge to answer the call, shutting off the phone instead and shoving it deeply into his hip pocket.

"Worried girlfriend?" Dean asked, nodding at the mobile.

Harry shook his head. "A friend of mine. Caleb wasn't exactly thrilled when he found out I was doing a job alone."

John frowned. "He's damn well got a right to be concerned if you're out hunting the demon alone. You don't look a day over-"

"I'm twenty-four," Harry said flatly before another Winchester could unintentionally insult him. "Caleb just worries. He'd make a good mother."

"Caleb?" Sam said suddenly, his eyebrows furrowing. "Caleb Morrison?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe he can let Caleb know he's hunting with us?" Sam asked his father. "We could stop hiding your truck around the back that way."

John frowned, tugging his beard in thought. "It could work. It would certainly put Caleb's mind at ease to know his boy isn't out there alone anymore."

Harry felt something warm bloom into life at that- Caleb was like a father to him and Harry felt awful keeping him out of this hunt for his own protection

Dean tossed his mobile over in a flash, Harry's seeker skills the only thing keeping him from dropping it. "He's probably still calling yours."

The former-wizard nodded gratefully and took the phone, quickly clicking out a text message that didn't reveal anything about the hunt or his location.

"Don't mention me." John cautioned. "We don't want word getting out that I'm hunting with my boys again." He paused before adding. "I don't think Caleb's very fond of me at the moment."

Harry looked up from Dean's mobile, eyebrows raised. "Bobby didn't give me a glowing review about you either. He actually suggested I keep away from you."

Sam made an exasperated face. "Is there anyone we know that you haven't managed to piss off in the last four years?"

John ignored him, turning to sit at the cheap desk in the corner.

"My boys say you're hunting the same demon we are. Is that true?"

"Yes, Sir," he answered softly. "I was supposed to head out with Caleb to deal with a pack of Black Dogs up north but we caught wind of demonic activity in Hill City and split up."

Sam and Dean each took at seat as well, leaving Harry to flop tiredly down on one of the beds. "You didn't mention a demon at the bar," Sam said mildly.

Harry shrugged. "It's not exactly my finest moment. It escaped, after trying to kill me and the children of the woman it was possessing."

"Can't get them all," John said with look of gruff understanding. "Was there anything odd about the case itself? What kind of omens sent you up there?"

Harry frowned, thinking back to the file Caleb had given him the night before he'd left. "Cattle mutilations. Freak lightning storm. Dead crops. Three dead bodies with their hearts ripped out."

The three Winchesters shared a look that told Harry they already knew this. It was kind of annoying. "We would have guessed werewolf had the lunar cycle been right. I've never heard of a demon stealing people's hearts before this case."

"It depends," Sam said in the same tone Hermione used to use when she was explaining something to Ron. "Mostly, demons just want to murder and torture and pillage."

"Like supernatural pirates," Dean quipped before catching Harry's eye and smirking slowly. Sam frowned at him tightly before continuing.

"If they're sent up here with a specific mission or goal in mind, they could use hearts to communicate with Hell or each other."

"Didn't you say the crazy lady back in Nebraska had human hearts on the alter she was using to control the reaper?" Dean added, a dark look steeling over his features.

John nodded. "Most dark alters involve the use of human hearts to control or summon the supernatural. I wonder who your demon was contacting."

"Azazel." The smaller hunter said promptly, not surprised to see that John knew the demon's true name. He seemed like the type to keep information to himself; just like another old man Harry once knew.

"When I arrived in Hill City," he continued. "A few of the townspeople were openly suspicious of the local psychic. You know how people are- they're so afraid of the unknown that anything slightly different feels threatening. Assyria ran a fortune-telling business out of her house so I paid her a visit."

"Never leave a lead unchecked," John intoned wisely.

"Right," Harry agreed. "I was expecting a fraud. Most psychics are but she knew things about me I didn't even know- she even about the demon in town. She gave me the victim's name."

"She told you about the demon?" Sam asked softly, remembering that Harry had called this woman his friend after such a short meeting.

The ex-wizard nodded. "She told me my future; she kept flipping over this tattered deck of cards as she spoke- like she couldn't help it. I was going to leave and exorcise the demon….I thought she was crazy until she told me to beware the yellow-eyed man."

John rubbed his mouth, his eyes distant. "Yes, she was definitely talking about our demon. Did she say anything else?"

"Just that Azazel's plans were coming to fruition and that I should look into the night my parents died."

"You think the demon killed her because she told you," Dean said evenly. Harry looked away.

"Right after she told me, the pattern in the cards changed. Her own future suddenly spat out five Aces of Spade."

Sam shivered. "It's the Card of Death in Cartomancy." He added when his brother frowned in confusion. Dean made a face. "That's just creepy."

Harry rubbed him hands, the ever-present guilt bearing down on him. "I left her there, because I had to get rid of the demon in town. I knew something was going to happen- she knew it- but I still left her there."

There was nothing they could say that would ease his guilt.

"Was there anything else?" John asked after a moment of silence. Harry paused, remembering Darcy's words as the demon in her held him trapped against the motel.

"Yeah, the demon… it was like she was trying to kill him- not just because I was hunting her down either. She knew my name. She even said my mum burned up-"

Each Winchester man looked pained at those words, pale and angry as Harry told his story. He'd forgotten what the demon was capable of, and that maybe his family hadn't been its only victim.

"But you already guessed that."

John nodded, his fingertips caressing the worn golden band still wrapped around his finger. Dean didn't say anything, his mouth pressed into a firm, angry line.

"It killed our mom, when I was a baby," Sam finally explained. "And my girlfriend this past November."

Harry winced in sympathy. "I'm sorry. I- I have a bad habit of saying things without thinking."

Dean cleared his throat, rising from his seat with a tired groan. "It's getting late." He warned his father. John seemed to snap out of what memories held him captive and gave a short nod in response.

"Go get some sleep, Harry and I'll send one of my boys to come get you in the morning."

The former-wizard rose from the bed with a frown. "What are we doing tomorrow?"

Here, the older man's face took on a predatory look. "Tomorrow, I teach you how to hunt this demon."

The Winchesters stayed silent as Harry closed the door to their room. Dean pulled his bag out from under his bed and started digging for fresh clothes. Sam picked at his nails until the quiet click of Harry's door opening and closing told them their new accomplice was out of range.

"So, what do you think?"

John shrugged casually, still going over bits and pieces of Harry's story in his head. "You caught the accent he's been trying to hide? He sure as hell ain't from around here- that at least tells me where the damn thing has been going when it dropped off the map. Right across the fucking pond."

Sam pursed his lip in thought. "Well, topside is topside to demons." He said slowly.

"They wouldn't exactly be confined to man-made boundaries."

"It's just him," Dean said suddenly. "I mean, the demon killed both of his parents. I wonder how he survived-"

"You don't know that," the youngest Winchester said suddenly, feeling the need to defend Harry. The other hunter's past eerily mimicked his own. "That's not a very nice thing to ask, Dean."

"Can't deny it's suspicious, Sammy." John interrupted his boys, before they started tussling on the beds like five year olds. "He's got the good reputation of Caleb and Bobby on his side though. Bobby wouldn't have given him my number if he wasn't who he said he was and Caleb doesn't just take in anyone."

"Which is good news for Dean," Sam said slyly, a bright smile stretching across his face. It just screamed that Sam was convinced he had 'black mail material' His brother stopped separating the clothes in his duffle bag to scowl at Sam.

"Dude, what are you talking about?"

"You're- I don't know! Sweet on him or something."

Dean laughed loudly, posturing in that overly macho way that made his little brother want to subject him to a six hour marathon of Lifetime movies.

"Sweet on him? You want me to pick you up some chocolate at the grocer's Judith?" He teased, always poking fun at Sam's more sensitive nature.

His brother shot him his standard 'unimpressed' expression, crossing his arms for good measure. "Dean, you remember when I was in the tenth grade and had that huge crush on Jenna Sparks?"

"God you were such a dork. Couldn't string two words together that didn't make you sound like a freak and- oh come on!" He protested as Sam smirked at him. "I'm way cooler than that."

"You're really not," his brother said with a fond smile. "I distinctly remember this routine from your time with Cassie."

Dean fidgeted, cocking out one hip as he tended to do when he was nervous. "Dude, we have got to pick you up some balls at the nearest K*Mart or something. Who talks like that?"

John snapped his gun back together with a sharp look. He hoped his boys knew the difference between teasing and sharing more than was necessary. This wasn't something he wanted or needed to hear right now. There were far more important things, in John's opinion, that whoever Dean decided to spent his down time with.

Dean, much to his family's surprise, began to angrily search through his duffle bag.

"Whatever. Can we talk about something else?"

Sam frowned, crossing his arms and rubbing at his chin as he fought back a grin. "Dude, I'm just saying-"

His brother didn't find half as much amusement in the situation as Sam. "I'm going to take a shower," he said sulkily, slamming the door in what was a very good impression of Sam in his teenage angst years.

John quirked a cool eyebrow as Sam chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"You should have seen it Dad," he said with a sigh. "The only way it could have been perfect was if Dean and Harry had knocked foreheads or something."

John hid a small smile from at the very thought of his self-proclaimed Casanova of a son fumbling and stuttering all night. As much as he didn't want to know, John remembered being that young and naïve once. "All thumbs was he?"

Sam's brows furrowed as he studied his father. John had no idea what was going on in his youngest son's head until he spoke. "You're taking this awfully well. I was kind of suspecting shock or…."

"Me to be the stubborn bull you're used to?"

Sam shrugged, not denying the truth.

John adopted a mournful, almost grudging expression. "You see a lot hunting with Dean. Sometimes more than you want."

Sam lost it again.

Harry slept soundly, feeling more at ease with the Winchesters just down the walk. He wasn't a coward by any stretch, but with barely six years of hunting under his belt he was still far from being as prolific as the three men he'd met that night.

He was brushing his teeth when Harry thought he heard someone knock on his door. He listened again, shutting off tap and poking his head out through the bathroom door just to be sure.

Sam's huge shadow hovering outside his window was a dead giveaway.

"God, I've seen arthritic grandmothers knock louder than you," the youngest hunter said, his voice emitting 'eye roll' before he pounded hard on the door.

"Come in!" Harry called, sticking the toothbrush back in his mouth for a last, quick scrub.

Someone- probably Dean- stumbled over the slight rise in the floor level at the bottom of the door and cursed.

Sam snickered and Harry grinned. Yup, Dean.

The former wizard ambled out of the bathroom just in time to see the older Winchester trying to fix the break his foot had made in the salt line around the door.

Dean pulled his foot away hastily, sending Harry his smirky grin. "We're going to get some breakfast, man. Want to come?"

He said it like a five year old, telling Harry that they were going to Disney Land and Sam pulled that already familiar face; as if he was trying to hold back a long, loud laugh.

Harry nodded. "Of course. Just let me grab my jacket."

Sam grinned brightly, hovering outside of the room as Dean waited and made to hold open the door for the smaller hunter. They side-stepped each other awkwardly, treading on each other's toes and huffing in amusement. Finally, Dean pressed himself up against the door and gestured Harry out.

"After you."

"Thank you."

Sam smirked at them from the pavement. "You done?" he asked his brother who frowned sulkily.

"Shut up and get in the car, Sammy."

As he crawled into the back of the impala, Harry wondered if all families were this weird or if it was simply the Winchester way.

John looked up with a slight frown as Sam stumbled in through the door carrying a tray of steaming coffees and the same perpetual grin he'd had on ever since yesterday. The one that told John his oldest had made a fool of himself again.

"Really, it was an accident," Harry said exasperated as he followed Sam in, carrying a bag of what smelled like warm muffins in one hand while he cradled his other hand to his chest.

John could already see the tips of two fingers purpling.

"What happened?" he asked sharply as Dean shuffled in after them, carrying three more bags.

"Dean let the door go too soon and caught Harry's fingers." Sam supplied cheerfully, holding out a large black coffee.

"Sam." His brother said sharply, throwing the bags down on the small table as his father raised a secretly amused eyebrow at his misfortune. Harry smiled at him.

"It's fine. I swear. Give it a few days and I won't even notice- ow!"

Sam covered a wide smile with his coffee cup.