Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.
Challenges listed at the bottom.
Word Count: 4644
Warning for apocalypse type… things? Idk what to warn for but, you know, it's apocalypse so.
Written for Amber, for Secret Santa. Happy Solstice, babe, ily.
I'll find you (I'll fall for you)
The basement was dank and dark, but it was secure and that was all Dean needed. A place to sleep was far more important than comfort at this point. Despite his relative safety, Dean checked the door again.
He'd warded it and locked it with a complicated locking spell Hermione had taught him before the group had been separated, but he was still a little nervous.
Fear had become a constant companion over the last few months.
The Beings (he refused to call them zombies; these weren't 'reanimated dead people' no matter what anyone said) seemed to be somewhat immune to magic—warding magic at least.
They could be taken out by a well placed blasting charm, but Dean had seen them walk straight through repelling charms like they weren't even there. And they were there. He'd checked them three times, so they'd definitely been there.
Running a hand through his short, currently greasy hair, Dean sighed and returned to the corner of the basement where he'd set his things. He pulled a sleeping bag from his backpack and unfurled it onto the floor.
Lying down, Dean curled in on himself, hoping that he'd be able to conserve some warmth. He tried to tell himself that this was better than sleeping in the woods—but at least when he'd been stuck in the woods, there had been other people.
He hoped that the others were still together, or at least that they'd managed to escape in groups. He hoped Seamus wasn't alone; his best friend had never been great in his own company.
Seamus tended to overthink everything when left to his own devices.
Harry, Ron and Hermione would have undoubtedly stuck together. Dean was pretty sure he'd seen the three of them join hands before they had Apparated away from the small camp they'd made. Parvati and Lavender had run, but they'd been going in the same direction, so hopefully the two of them were together too.
Dean sighed, snuggling in even further into the sleeping bag. It was a chilly night, and the lack of power in the house wasn't helping anything.
He'd messed up. He hadn't wanted to leave his bag behind, but he hadn't expected the Beings to move so fast either. By the time he'd grabbed his backpack, he'd been alone and surrounded and hadn't had much choice but to just Apparate away on his own.
Maybe he'd be able to find his friends, but he doubted it. They hadn't thought to have a rendezvous point—a mistake, Dean acknowledged, now that he needed such a thing.
It had been so much easier when they'd had adults to keep them somewhat organised, but Kingsley had gone to save his boyfriend, and McGonagall and Poppy had both been taken by the Beings, protecting the group.
Closing his eyes, Dean tried to push the thoughts of his friends and their fates from his mind. He didn't expect nice dreams, but he figured that he didn't have to give the nightmares even more fodder.
…
Dean hadn't really thought about how strange it would be, being back in his old neighbourhood. When he'd Apparated from the forest, he'd only been wanting somewhere safe, somewhere he could hide.
The basement of his old house had seemed perfect for the occasion. That the house was abandoned didn't surprise him, of course.
The Beings had affected the Muggle world even more than the Wizarding one. When the 'invasion' had first begun, Dean's mother and sister had been taken to one of the safe-points, and Dean had hoped that they'd be okay without him.
He'd thought about joining them, but his friends had needed him, and so he'd stayed away, writing to them when he could.
The safe spots had since been compromised, but Dean refused to think about that. He wasn't sure exactly which one his mother and sister were in, and he could only hold onto the hope that wherever they were, they were still okay.
But—back to the point—it was very strange being back in his old neighbourhood. He'd only spent his summers there while he'd been in Hogwarts and then when he'd left, it had been straight into hiding because the Beings were already making themselves known.
He slipped from the house, his backpack on his back. The streets were empty, and the ridiculous part of Dean's mind definitely expected a tumbleweed to just roll right on down the road in front of him.
Then again, his life was already too much like a B-movie; he probably didn't need to tempt fate.
Keeping close to the bushes, Dean walked down the street towards the small town center, hoping he'd find a shop that hadn't already been ransacked by those that hadn't evacuated.
When he'd still been with the others, they'd noticed that every town had had at least a few stubborn people who'd thought they didn't need to leave their homes. Few of them had still been around when Dean and his friends had passed through.
Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any of the Beings around. There was little evidence of… well, anything, really.
It was a little eerie.
When he reached the shops, he was surprised to find that one of the smaller food shops on a side street off of Main Street looked untouched. Pulling his wand from his sleeve, Dean unlocked the door and slipped inside, locking it up again behind him.
The shelves were stacked and unable to believe his luck, Dean pulled his backpack around and unzipped it, thankful that his magic allowed for all the space and none of the weight inside it.
He tipped cans of long life food in as quickly as he could, wrinkling his nose at the fresher produce that certainly wasn't fresh now.
He'd collected almost everything of use when a clatter towards the back of the shop startled him. Zipping his bag up, he slung it over his shoulder and cautiously approached the door to the back, peering through the window.
Three of the Beings—tall, black with yellow spots where their hips should be, and horror movie-esque faces—were leaning over a human boy. He looked around Dean's age, and was scrambling back against the door, trying to get his hand on the handle.
Dean could just leave, he knew, but… he also knew that he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't at least try and help the boy.
He opened the door and let the boy fall inside before he slammed it shut. He didn't bother trying to ward it; there was little point and it would only consume time he really didn't have.
Instead, he helped the boy to his feet and pushed him around the front of the shop. The street outside, which had been empty when Dean had entered the shop, was teeming with Beings.
"Fuckadoodle," Dean muttered to himself, shaking his head. "This… isn't great."
"The shop has a cellar," the boy said, pointing to a hatch. "There's a tunnel from there that leads out into the woods. The Beings don't really go into the woods anymore, since everyone left."
A crash in the back of the shop and the sight of so many Beings in the front made Dean decide to trust the boy. He really wanted to just Apparate the hell away but again, he couldn't leave the boy and he didn't want to use magic in front of a Muggle.
Not that the Statute meant anything anymore, but how was he supposed to explain himself?
He followed the boy down into the cellar, pulling the hatch closed behind him. He conjured a crowbar sneakily and slotted it through the lock. He didn't think it would hold for long against the Beings, but he was hopeful that they wouldn't have the brains to look through the hatch for them, at least for a while.
"This way," the boy said, nodding his head to a tunnel hidden behind a few boxes. "I'm Piers, by the way. Thanks for uh… that."
Dean snorted. "You're welcome. I'm Dean."
"What are you doing here? I haven't seen you around before, and well… I feel like I'd have seen you if you'd been here the whole time."
"Passing through," Dean replied quietly. "I used to live here."
"Oh. Why aren't you at one of the safe points?"
"Missed it. You?"
Piers ducked his head. "I uh, refused to go without my best friend. Turned out he'd already gone but… by the time I realised that, they'd already moved on out."
Dean winced. "Ouch. Your family—"
"My cousin Max was on the bus. I promised him that I'd make it back in time, but… I hope he's okay."
Dean closed his eyes, trying to ward off his own fears. "I'm sure he is," he choked out.
"What's your story?" Piers asked.
Dean noticed that the floor was sloping up, and a few seconds later, they'd reached another hatch. Piers lifted a hand to open it, but Dean waylaid it, gently pushing Piers out of the way. Not only did the boy seem a little… clumsy, but Dean had something of a chance of surviving.
Piers rolled his eyes but didn't argue, and slowly, Dean pushed the hatch up, peeking out. He looked out at the three sides the hatch allowed, and didn't see anything, so he pushed it open and stepped out.
The forest was thankfully, wonderfully, deserted. Dean sighed in relief and moved out of the way for Piers to step out. When Piers stepped out and then walked further into the trees with purpose, Dean followed him, intrigued despite himself.
"So, your story?"
"I don't have much of one," Dean hedged. "I was with friends, but the Beings came and we scattered. I haven't been able to find them since."
Piers side-eyed him but said nothing, and Dean was grateful for the reprieve. He'd forgotten how exhausting it was, being around people who didn't know about magic—who didn't know about a whole part of who Dean was.
"Where are we going?" Dean asked, when they'd been pushing through the woods for about ten minutes.
Piers smiled at him and then nodded to an opening in the trees. "This is where I stay when I'm not trying to get food from town."
Dean looked around. He had to admit, the cover was pretty good. It was enclosed at all sides by thick trees and bushes, and it was quiet enough that Piers would probably hear anyone—or any thing, as the case unfortunately was—that approached.
"You can stay a while if you'd like?" Piers offered, gesturing awkwardly to a log. "I, uh. Haven't managed to make fire yet, but you seem survival-y, so maybe you'll have better luck."
Dean bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. If only he could use his magic, there would be a smokeless fire in seconds. Instead, he just nodded.
"I'll find some kindling and logs for it then."
Piers nodded. "Uh. Did you manage to get any food?"
Dean thought of the many tins in his bag and nodded. "Yeah, I got some. Let me find some wood and we'll be able to warm something up, okay?"
Piers' lips tilted up and then he fully grinned. "It's nice to have some company. I've been on my own for ages."
Heart going out to him, Dean only nodded. He hadn't been on his own for very long at all, but he understood the want for other people. Loneliness was a horrible friend.
…
Lighting a fire without magic was harder than it sounded and almost two hours later, Dean had only just gotten the flames to do their thing. He warmed his hands with a small smile.
He was tired, but he felt something like accomplishment at being able to do it without a wand.
Still, making sure that Piers wasn't watching, he created a dampening shield that would keep the smoke from drawing any unwanted attention. Hopefully Piers wouldn't notice the way the smoke was disappearing just before it hit the treetops.
He closed his eyes, leaning back against the log Piers had been using as a bench.
"Uh, Dean?"
Dean opened his eyes, startled. "Shit, sorry," he murmured. He hadn't meant to take an impromptu nap, and he checked the fire. Thankfully it was still burning cheerfully, so he couldn't have been napping for long.
"Sorry, I'd have let you sleep, but I didn't wanna go into your bag, and I'm uh, really hungry."
Dean shook his head. "It's fine, I didn't mean to fall asleep."
Reaching into his bag, he pulled two tins out at random, not wanting to dig around in there and raise any questions.
"I have… beans and ravioli? You have a preference?"
"Ravioli please," Piers replied eagerly, and Dean chuckled. He pulled the can lids off, and placed them close to the flames to heat up. Technically, he supposed, both could be eaten cold, but… ew.
"Can you, uh, tell me a story?" Piers asked, biting his lip. "Something… totally unrelated to what's happening right now. I just… need to not think about it for a while, and I really need a distraction from how hungry I am too."
Dean chuckled but nodded. "I uh… sure. Do you want a real life story or a made up one?"
"Tell me what life was like growing up for you," Piers requested.
"Oh, okay. It was… pretty simple honestly. I grew up with my mum and my little sister on the estate. She's a librarian, so we spent quite a lot of time after school at the library while she finished up her shift, and that was pretty cool.
"I uh, learnt to draw in that library. That was what I always wanted to do, draw. I thought I could be an illustrator, you know? Maybe see some of my own art on the covers of the books in the library when I went to visit my mum?"
"You don't want to do that now? Or I mean… before the Beings?"
Dean shrugged. "Life happened. I went to school in Scotland and met new people, had new experiences, you know? I had no idea what I wanted to do, to be honest, but then the Beings happened… and you didn't want to talk about that, so we'll not go there."
"What's your mum like?"
"She's amazing," Dean replied with a soft smile. "She brought me and my sister up on her 's the strongest woman I know. She's… she's great."
"And your little sister?"
"A pain in my arse," Dean said, his smile turning into a grin. "She's a little menace, always in my stuff, trying to steal things, always on my case to play with her dolls or… well, more recently, she wanted to try her make up skills on me so… that happened."
"You let her do it?" Piers asked, a grin of his own brightening his face.
"Sure," Dean replied with a shrug. "Washed it off before I left the room and stole her camera so I could delete the evidence, but it made her happy, you know? Because I went to boarding school, I didn't get to see her growing up, so whenever I did see her, she pretty much could get me to do anything."
"It must be nice to have a sibling."
"You don't have any?"
Piers wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "My parents were uh, not great. They died when I was eight, and my cousin Max took me in. He adopted me when I was eleven but he's never had kids of his own. Think I put him off, to be honest."
"I'm… sorry?"
"Don't be," Piers replied. "Max was the best thing to ever happen to me, honestly. He's great… really great. And he makes the best cookies."
"Don't talk about cookies," Dean complained. "I don't have cookies."
"If we find him, I'll get him to make you some," Piers offered. "You'll never want to eat shop cookies again."
Dean didn't point out that getting the ingredients would likely be a struggle even if they did find Max. If hope was cookies from his cousin, Dean didn't want to burst Piers' bubble. Instead, he nodded to the cans of food and said, "I think they'll probably be nice and warm now, if you want to eat."
Piers reached out to pick the can up, and Dean snorted, batting his hand away. "At least use the sleeve of your jumper, you'll burn yourself."
Piers bit his lip sheepishly. "Oops?"
…
"Okay, we need a better plan," Dean said, when they'd been in the same spot for three days.
"Any plan would be a good start," Piers pointed out, and Dean rolled his eyes.
"Okay, so we need a plan that is better than sitting here on our asses," Dean said. "I think… I think we need to head towards the coast. Every whisper I heard about safe spots were on the coast, because coastal areas are easier to protect."
"Hate to tell you this, pal, but we live on an island," Piers said with a shit-eating grin. "So that doesn't really give us a direction."
Dean stared at Piers for a long moment. "Are you being deliberately unhelpful?"
"Little bit," Piers said, nodding. "I just… don't really want to move? I've been safe here, you know?"
Dean softened a little. "I get that, and you can stay, you know? You don't need to come with me, I won't try and force you or anything. I just… can't sit around and wait for nothing, I suppose."
Piers sighed. "I know, you're right, really you are. And I want to find Max, and it's probably better if I'm not on my own when I go looking because honestly, I can get lost on a one way street; my sense of direction is non-existent."
Snorting a laugh, Dean shook his head. "Okay, so maybe we leave the navigation to me then, huh?"
"Can you like… tell north by the stars?"
"I guess. The north star is brighter than the others, I think," Dean guessed. He really should have paid more attention in Astronomy class.
"So… we're just going to head for the coast and hope for the best?" Piers asked, wrinkling his nose.
Dean grinned. "It's a better plan than no plan, right?"
…
They were doing okay. Moving in good time, though to where, Dean still wasn't sure. Was there any point heading for a safety that he didn't know existed? Honestly, while Piers was searching out the safe point in the hopes of finding his cousin, Dean was more interested in finding his friends.
Not that he'd said as much. He figured that he could drop off Piers—if they were lucky enough to find people to drop him off with—and then he could carry on searching.
Maybe he could even find a witch or wizard at the safe spot that could point him in the right direction.
Piers, clumsy bugger, slipped on a piece of wood that had been resting in the mud and tumbled down the hill in front of them. Dean chuckled, until he realised that the noise had brought about some unwanted attention.
He'd known they were travelling too close to the roads.
He sprinted down the hill and without care for the consequences—he'd quite like to be alive to deal with them after all—Dean slipped his wand from the holster up his sleeve and the blasting charm fell from his lips again and again and again.
With his free arm, he kept Piers behind him, blocking him in against a tree until the Beings were gone.
"Holy shit, you're a witch," Piers gasped out, staggering back when Dean dropped to his knees, utterly exhausted and breathless.
Dean raised his head to look at Piers. "And you're a walking disaster, but I didn't mention it because I have manners. Also, I'm a wizard, bloody hell, did you never read fantasy books when you were growing up?"
Piers only gaped at him for a long moment and then he started laughing hysterically. Dean wasn't sure what to do. He didn't know how to deal with hysterical people apart from the time he'd seen Hermione slap Ron and that had seemed to help, but was that a people thing or a Ron-and-Hermione thing?
Piers seemed to settle after a few minutes, and Dean propped himself up against a tree, ignoring the bark in favour of the support, and pulled water and a bar of chocolate from his bag.
"You have chocolate?" Piers asked, looking over with interest.
"Little bit," Dean replied. He grabbed another bar—the last one by the looks of it—and threw it over to Piers.
Piers caught it, but instead of opening it, he played with the edge of the wrapper. "So, uh. You're a wizard, huh? Magic is a thing?"
Dean nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I am, and yeah, it is."
"Jesus. Magic, wizards, Beings. What other bullshit movie horrors are going to jump out of the shadows next?" Piers asked.
Dean debated explaining about acromantulas and quickly—wisely, in his opinion—decided against it. Instead, he said, "Don't jinx us. Look, if you don't want to be around me, I'd understand. I know it's… different. I know I'm different."
"Are you mad?" Piers asked. "Travel with the wizard, who can shoot pretty deadly lights from his stick—don't say it, that didn't come out well—or travel on my own and probably get dead within an hour? What do you think I'm going to do, genius? You're practically a killing machine."
Dean winced, but he supposed he couldn't exactly deny Piers' words.
Piers must have seen the look on his face, because he sighed. "Look, I uh. I'm not sure what peace is supposed to feel like, but I think it may feel a lot like you. You're calming, you know? And… I guess I kinda like you."
Dean's lips tilted up. "I guess I kinda like you too, clumsiness and all."
…
Later that night, when they'd found a patch in the woods to sleep in, Piers broke the comfortable silence between them.
"You should have a fancy fighting name."
Dean rolled over in his sleeping bag, his eyes finding the moon in the otherwise cloudy sky. "What?"
"A fancy fighting name? I mean, the way you took those Beings out earlier… it was like something out of a video game or something, and they all have cool names, right? Zelda Warrior Princess, man, you know? 'Dean' seems a bit dull compared to that."
Dean snorted. "Piers?"
"Hmm?"
"Go to sleep."
…
"This is probably going to make you puke," Dean warned, his hand tightening around Pier's arm as he concentrated on the south coast of England. He'd heard tell of a safe spot in that general area, and being able to Apparate would save them days—possibly weeks—of walking.
"Puke?" Piers asked, but Dean was already turning on the spot into the uncomfortable feeling of being squeezed through a tube.
When he landed, it was on his feet, though Piers wasn't quite so fortunate. He landed on all fours, retching into the grass as Dean checked their surroundings carefully.
There were no signs of recent habitation, but he wasn't ready to lose hope yet.
"Point me Seamus Finnegan," he murmured, focusing as hard as he could on his best friend. When his wand only spun on his hand, he sighed.
"Point me Harry Potter," he tried instead, only to get the same result.
"Harry Potter?" Piers asked, frowning as he cautiously pushed himself to his feet. "That's Dudley's cousin. Are you telling me he's got magic too?"
Dean snorted, thinking of the boy wonder. "You could say that, yeah."
"But… we beat him up all the time when we were kids. Why would he let us if—"
"Magic doesn't… we don't learn it until we're over eleven, and even when we do, we're not supposed to do it in front of non-magical folk, you know? I told you, you can't tell anyone about this, about me."
Piers nodded and bit his lip. "We were shits to him, and he could have just blasted us all to bits."
Dean just nodded, and ran a hand through his hair. If he wasn't picking up Seamus or Harry, then it was unlikely he'd pick up any of the others.
"Wait, does that mean that Kingsley is—"
"Kingsley Shacklebolt?" Dean asked, interrupting Piers. When Piers nodded, eyes wide, Dean asked, "How the hell do you know Kingsley?"
"He's dating Max," Piers said softly. "He's always seemed a little… eccentric, but, well, he really loves my cousin, you know?"
"The boyfriend," Dean murmured softly. When Piers made a questioning noise, he elaborated, "Kingsley left us to make sure that his boyfriend was safe. He never made it back to us, but we were forced to move the day after so… maybe he's still with your Max."
"Can you try your pointing thing with Kingsley?"
It was a long shot, Dean knew. He didn't have enough to focus on with Kingsley really, but it was worth a try. If he was nearby…. Maybe.
"Point me Kingsley Shacklebolt," he murmured, his wand on his flat palm once more. It spun a few times before wavering, and Dean's eyes widened when it stopped, the tip glowing bright white.
"Bloody hell, it worked," He murmured. "Come on, let's go."
"Do you think Max is with him?" Piers asked, almost jogging to keep up with the suddenly energised Dean.
"There's only one way to find out."
Dean reached back and grabbed Piers' hand in his own, tugging him along gently.
They walked about two miles before Dean started feeling a resistance. "We've found them," he murmured.
Piers frowned. "There's nothing here."
Dean smiled. "That's what they want you to think."
With his wand, he tapped the wards three times in the echo of a knock. Moments later, and Kingsley appeared, shadowed by Harry and George Weasley.
Dean's legs almost gave out. "Oh, I am so glad to see you guys."
…
Dean was deep in thought when a playing card hit him in the face. He blinked, and then rolled his eyes at Piers, who was grinning widely at him.
"You know there are easier ways to get my attention, right?" he asked, shaking his head.
"You're going with them, aren't you?" Piers asked, nodding to the red tent just a little ways down the field.
The wizards—apparently the Muggles here had been given the barebones of knowledge about magic—were planning to head back out into the country in squads, to rid the Beings once and for all. It was going to be dangerous but…
Someone had to do it, right?
Dean followed his gaze and then sighed. "I… yeah. I can't be a coward, Piers; it's not who I am."
Piers nodded. "I knew that. I wasn't really expecting anything else. I just… needed confirmation, I guess."
"I'll come back," Dean said softly. "I'll find you, when it's over. I promise."
"Shouldn't make promises you can't keep," Piers pointed out.
"Maybe not," Dean agreed. "So I guess that means I'll have to try extra hard to keep it, hmm?"
"If you don't come back, I'm going to come and find you and kill you for abandoning me."
Dean snorted. "What are you going to do, fall on me?"
"Fall for you, maybe," Piers muttered, and then blushed brightly, looking away.
Dean found himself transfixed by the pink in Piers' cheek for a moment and then he reached over and cupped it, the contrast of their skin colours beautiful from an artist's perspective.
"I'll find you," he swore. "And then you can fall for me everyday, okay?"
Piers' lips trembled slightly as he nodded and smiled. "I'm gonna hold you to that, Dean."
Written for:
Character Appreciation: 13. "I'll find you."
Book Club: Queen of Hearts: Playing card / Red / Favour
Showtime: 14. "We need a better plan."
Empire: 16. "Tell me a story."
Sophie's Shelf: 6. Breathless
Loft: 3. "You should have a fancy fighting name."
Scamander's Case: 5. Causing a distraction
Film Festival: 6. Killing machine
Snow Globe: 28. Lunascope: Looking at the moon
Advent Calendar: Action: Napping
Naughty or Nice: Nice: 29. Dean Thomas
Snowball fight: 21. Dean vs Seamus: Yellow
Christmas Party: 3. Happy Xmas: Peace
Resolutions: 6. Exhausted
Stickers: Alduin: 3. Apocalypse
Talent Show: Water Glass Music: 1. Apocalypse!AU / 2. "I'm not sure what peace is supposed to feel like, but I think it may feel a lot like you." / 5. Down
Insane: 179. Starting a fire