ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER: Every content, character, plot etc. that anyone is able to recognize as other's property is NOT mine. I have no intention to get into any trouble involving law and money.
ULTIMATE WARNING: So far most of my stories are turning out to be SLASH and MPREG. So they may contain mature, Male/Male Relationship and not so graphic sex scenes between two men. If you can't stand these or don't want to read them, please leave this story behind!
AU, OOC, SLASH! Hurt!Sam and introducing a new "character" (no, not Castiel as someone asked already, he'll come a little later, I promise).
Hey, guys! Sorry for being late with this. Rough years, no one likes them.
Anyway, this is a little shorter than I hoped it would turn out, but my mind got occupied and it won't leave me alone. As soon as I'm done with that, I'll be writing like crazy. :)
Hope you'll enjoy!
The next couple of days went by uneventfully. Everyone busied themselves with something around the house: Bobby and Dean parked in the garage, repairing and tuning the cars inside, Kyle was hiding behind books in the study, often joined by Harry, while Sam did the chores Bobby ordered him to do for the days, restricted to the inside.
Sam still caught himself brushing his hair either into or out of his injured face. Harry began applying a daily dose of kisses on the red blisters, both in the morning and at night, and even though Harry's treatment seemed to work, Sam was still self-conscious. The throb under his skin vanished completely, replaced by the hum he always felt when Harry was using magic on a rare occasion. He knew then that Harry was trying to heal the blisters in his own way.
Sometimes when Sam was unconsciously brushing his hair into his face, he only caught himself when Harry's hand restrained his and the other brushed the locks away and behind his ear. The boy threatened – or promised, more likely – to cut Sam's hair, if he didn't stop.
Sam couldn't wait for the week to pass already. He was bored inside the house with everyone else so busy. Bobby had even pulled the "Cinderella" card once, as Sam called it, leaving Sam alone in the house to clean while the others had left for a night out. Sam hadn't dared to object to Bobby for the childish treatment, but he had scowled at his back when the older man had stepped out the door. Harry had just given him an apologetic kiss while the others had said goodbye to him awkwardly. He had spent the whole night sulking on the couch with arms crossed, feeling like a teenager again – after cleaning the house, of course.
Five days have gone by since the start of his confinement, when Sam had had enough with Bobby's behavior towards him. He hated how the man just barked out orders like a general, treating him like a little boy after being caught with a hand in the cookie jar. It was even worse than the punishment Dean doled out to him that night. Sam got fed up of all this on the fifth night.
"Samuel, wash up!"
"Why can't Dean do it?" Sam snapped back irritated. The silence could've been cut by a knife. Sam glared at Bobby, but it withered away at the older man's dark look. It looked very much like John Winchester's downright furious look. Sam realized then why Bobby decided to punish him the way he did: Sam hated that look – and feared it.
"Was that backtalk?" Bobby's voice was calm and cool, but Sam knew he was daring him to say the wrong thing. Sam swallowed before finally stuttering out a response:
"N-N-No, sir… Just a question…"
"That's what I thought" Bobby answered. "And he can't do it because he's taking out the trash."
"What?" Dean exclaimed indignantly. "Come on, Bobby! Why can't Sam do that, too?"
"Dean, shut up" Harry hissed and Kyle shifted, kicking Dean's leg, but they were ignored.
"Because I can't leave the house, remember?" Sam said to Dean in a sad, low tone. Dean had the decency to look ashamed of his outburst and he instantly jumped up to take out the trash.
The tension only disappeared when the kitchen emptied, save for Sam at the sink.
The morning after that horrendous week, Sam woke up with a lighter heart. He stretched lazily, one hand reaching out towards Harry, but his fingers met with cold sheets. Sam jolted upright and quickly looked around. The room was the same as the night before, except for Harry's absence. The boy must have been up for quite a while if the sheets have lost all their warmth. However, he caught the time on the clock showing it was well into the morning, so there was no reason to panic and worry about his small lover.
He stood up slowly, stretching once more with a yawn, and took a deep breath to slow his heart down from the scare. He lazily dressed up and went through the usual motions of the morning before descending the stairs. He found Bobby in the kitchen, cooking lunch with Kyle's help.
"G-Good morning" Sam greeted them, still a little wary of Bobby. The older man, however, smiled when he looked up.
"Morning, Sam" he said gently, easing Sam's worry. "Could you set the table for lunch?"
"S-Sure" Sam felt such a relief, hearing Bobby returning to normal towards him, he almost collapsed sobbing on the floor. Bobby rolled his eyes, muttering a gruff 'Idjit' under his breath, which meant he saw Sam's thoughts on the young man's face.
"Where's Harry?" Sam asked as he gathered the plates and utensils.
"Salem" Kyle answered, chopping up vegetables.
"Massachusetts?" Sam gaped in shock. "When did he leave? How did he go?"
"Calm down" Kyle chuckled, shaking his head. "South Dakota. And Dean took him, he asked for a ride."
"There's a Salem in South Dakota?" Sam asked confused.
"There are several Salems all over the whole country. All of them are points of travel to Salem, Massachusetts" Bobby explained. "Wizards and witches use them to go to Salem Magical Institution. And some of them have magical districts, as well."
"I see. And why did Harry go there?"
"Dunno" Kyle shrugged, scooping the vegetables into a pot on the stove. "He said he had to check something. And don't worry" Kyle added, catching Sam's look of concern. "Dean'll protect him."
"When did they leave?" Sam asked after a nod.
"An hour ago, maybe? They must be arriving now, I think."
The Impala rumbled gently as it rolled through the small town of Salem, SD. Harry was sitting in the passenger seat, looking over the buildings they passed on his side, while Dean was searching on his own side, one hand on the wheel.
"Are you sure it's here?" Dean asked as he turned into a smaller street.
"I can feel the magic" Harry answered. "It must be here."
"Is that it?" Dean asked suddenly. When Harry turned to him, he saw the man pointing out the window, as the car pulled to the side.
In between two houses stood a small archway with a black, heavy, two-winged door. As the sun reached it, the door seemed to shimmer and wave as if the air around it was blazing hot. But Harry knew that was not the case.
"Wait" Harry spoke, something jumping out in his mind. "You can see it, too?"
"Yeah, why?" Dean spoke frowning.
"Because Muggles can't see anything warded against them."
"Could it be because of Sam?" Dean asked uncertainly.
"I don't know" Harry shrugged. "Although, Hermione's parents had even been on Diagon Alley, so maybe."
"Who?"
"Friend from England" Harry elaborated, seeing the frown deepen on Dean's face. Dean nodded, not wanting to reopen old wounds for his friend.
They climbed out of the car and approached the gate. It seemed so out of place in the suburbs; Dean was even worried they were trespassing. However, when they walked up towards the archway, they both felt the barrier against muggles and a beaten track appeared in front of them, grass trodden down by many feet throughout the years.
When they reached the door, Harry slowly, cautiously opened it up. The door revealed a dark room lit by torches on the stone wall on one side, illuminating hard, stone steps leading underground. Harry examined the place and squinted to try and see the end of the staircase.
"Looks like I have to lock her up" Dean mumbled next to him and Harry rolled his eyes with a huff and a smile. He waited until Dean took care of his baby, pocketing a gun just in case, then they descended the steps, the door banging shut behind them.
Sam hurried down the steps, his feet sounding like stomps in the silence. He made his way into the kitchen to drink a glass of water. He was dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, his hoodie tied around his waist. Wiping his glass then putting it away, Sam walked out to the garage, where Bobby was lying under a truck.
"Hey" he spoke, bowing down trying to look under the car. Bobby slid out and looked at him questioningly. "Is it okay if I go for a jog?" Sam felt nervous as he asked permission, feeling like a teenager again.
"Sure, but don't go too far" Bobby replied without hesitation, and Sam was relieved to see only worry in the older man's eyes and not distrust. He nodded with a smile and left with a wave to Bobby. When he reached the road, he fished his iPod out of his pocket, plugged the earbuds into his ears and began his exercise, enjoying the freedom after the "house arrest".
Harry sighed as he leaned his head back, wishing he was home with Sam. The marble wall behind his seat was cool but its hardness started an ache in his head. Looking to the right, he saw Dean in the same slumped pose in the chair next to him, only his leg was bouncing in some rhythm that probably matched the song in the man's head. That means Dean was getting so bored, he was not far from humming.
They've been waiting for almost an hour now to be called. Harry was surprised that the American wizards had such a modern-looking bank compared to Gringotts in London. Actually, the whole wizarding quarter was much more modern. It could've been just a part of the muggle city, the buildings had such a present day look. However, the store windows showed magical merchandise, which Dean had gawked at openly, since he was new to this world. Harry thought the man was adorable with the look of a little boy discovering the toy section in the mall for the first time.
Harry looked at the small piece of parchment in his hand – at least that hadn't changed – with the number 324 on it. There were only a couple people now milling around in the entrance hall waiting to be received. A long, red ribbon was swirling in the air above everyone, ready – as Harry already found out – to take up the form of the next number. As he watched it slow down, Dean straightening slightly as his attention was captured, the ribbon stopped as the number 035. Harry slumped back down as a young couple approached a free, open counter.
"What the hell is taking so long?" Dean grumbled morosely. Harry huffed out a laugh, feeling the same way. Dean then turned to the boy. "You want me to go with you?"
"I'd appreciate that" Harry answered softly. He was still wary of wizards, especially authorities. He was glad Dean was by his side with a trusty gun.
A couple minutes later the ribbon slowed down again and announced their number.
"Finally" Harry noted jumping up, Dean following him. Luckily, the only open counter was the farthest from the entrance and other patrons. Harry leaned onto the counter, Dean standing right behind him like a protective shield. The boy only felt safer than this in Sam's arms.
"Good day, sirs, how can I help you?" A brunette witch with a gentle smile greeted them.
"Good day, miss" Harry replied with a nod. "I'd like to transfer my money here from my vault in London."
"Gringotts?" the witch – Veronica, according to the nametag – tapped at the keyboard of her computer. Harry was a little surprised that electronics worked in the presence of magic, although Sam had his laptop.
"Yes."
"May I have the key to your vault?"
Harry swallowed, leaning back against Dean, who stood firmly in his place.
"I-I was never given a key." Veronica seemed a bit taken aback by that. She pulled a drawer open and got a sheet of parchment out, laying it onto the counter.
"Please, place your hand onto this."
Harry hesitated for a second, but a hand on his shoulder gave him the courage to obey. The parchment started glowing in the shape of his hand before spreading over the sheet then fading away.
"Thank you" Veronica said and Harry lifted his hand up, letting her take the parchment. She tapped a few keys before gazing at the monitor, eyes moving as she read the text displayed on it. Dean's hand tightened on Harry's shoulder, when he noticed the witch's widening eyes. She glanced at Harry in amazement then stood up. "Could you wait here a little?"
Before any reply could've been uttered, she hurried to the back and disappeared behind a finely polished oak door. Harry turned to Dean, his breaths quickening in fear. Dean wrapped an arm around the frail shoulders in a brief hug.
"It's okay, I'll protect you" he whispered, hiding his own nervousness at their situation. Harry nodded then with a deep breath he spun back around to face the consequences. After a few minutes, Veronica returned to them, opening the gate that led behind the counter.
"Would you follow me, please?" she asked politely.
Dean gave Harry a slight push and they were escorted through the oak door, where a middle-aged wizard was sitting behind a desk, suit fresh and crisp-looking, hair finely combed. He stood up and rounded the desk, grabbing Harry's hand to shake it. He only spoke after the door closed behind Veronica.
"Mr. Potter, pleasure to meet you" Harry forced out a smile and began trembling, when the man said his last name, frightened despite the gentle tone of the other's voice. "My name is Andrew Meyers. And you are?" he finally let go of Harry's hand and turned to Dean. He hadn't held out a hand but the wariness in his brown eyes showed not rude behavior, just a wish to seem non-threatening. Dean's tension must've shown on his face if a wizard was trying to stay on his good side.
"Dean Winchester" Dean introduced himself, reaching out. Meyers took his hand to shake it and Dean tightened his hold for a fraction as he pumped it.
"Relative of Samuel Winchester?" Meyers asked, his tone half-amazed, half-scared.
"Yes" Dean tilted his head slightly. How did this man know Sam?
"He's a client of one of our colleagues, who's a good friend of mine" Meyers explained as he stepped back.
"Isn't that information confidential?" Dean asked, ignoring Harry's snicker next to him. Yeah, Sammy was rubbing off on him.
"Of course, absolutely" Meyers answered with wide eyes then pointed to the side. "But since his desk has been next to mine for decades now, I tend to notice his clients if they're here for quick business and don't necessarily need privacy. And your family is quite famous among our circles."
"Where is he?" Dean queried, looking surprised at the revelation of the Winchester fame, noticing the empty seat.
"I asked him to leave while I'm with the next client, you, Mr. Potter" Meyers replied, nodding at Harry. "We heard the nasty business in England, only in a nutshell, but I guessed you would appreciate as little recognition right now and as great privacy as possible."
"Yes, thank you" Harry said with a swallow. What could've been included in that nutshell?
"Please, sit down!"
Once all three of them took a seat, Meyers threaded his fingers together in front of him, leaning onto the desk.
"So, how can I help you, Mr. Potter?"
"I, um…" Harry glanced at Dean hesitantly, "I'd like to transfer my money from my vault in London, but I don't have the key."
"It's not necessary" Meyers held up a hand. "Your handprint gave us your identification. We'll just have to contact the goblins of Gringotts and-"
"Is it possible" Harry interrupted the man hurriedly "to do this without alerting anyone of my identity?" Meyers paused for a second then nodded.
"Would you like to open an account at our bank?" the man asked. "Our offer includes a debit card which can be used in both the wizarding and the muggle world. Our bank gives our clients the choice of withdrawing wizarding money and dollars, as well."
"Yes, I'd like that, thank you" Harry nodded, feeling the knot on his stomach loosen a little. Meyers stood up and walked to the cabinets, pulling out a drawer. A brief search later, he pulled out some papers, which were presented to Harry when he returned to his desk.
"I'll give you some time to read this through" he spoke, as the boy took the papers, gaze roaming over the top page. With that, Meyers left the office.
Harry began reading the contract as Dean pulled his chair up next to his. He re-read a couple sentences as he unraveled the complicated wording and its meaning. It was a standard contract for a bank account going into much detail about the rules, the law and usage. As he finished one page, he transferred it into his other hand, but it was slipped out of his fingers, as Dean captured it, reading it through himself. Harry's heart warmed at that, even happier that he brought Dean along.
The two of them examined the documents carefully, finishing up in fifteen minutes. The contract also included the form for the debit card and a separate form for the currency exchange, both of them already filled up with Harry's personal data. Just as Dean handed the papers back, Meyers returned, taking a seat behind the desk.
"Everything in order?" he asked smiling.
"Yes" Harry replied, giving the contract back to the man. Meyers gave him a pen as he spread the papers out. Harry signed his name on almost every page of the contract. During the monotony of this, he vaguely noticed that he never wrote his name down the same way twice.
"Alright" Meyers said, gathering the papers and the pen. "We will notify you in a few days about the transfer and send you the debit card by post." He took his wand out then tapped the pages one by one, producing a copy of each next to it, which he handed over to Harry. "Would you like to withdraw some money right now? We will subtract the amount from your account as soon as it's settled, of course."
"Yes, please."
Meyers tapped at the keyboard a little then a couple minutes later Harry pocketed a pouch of wizarding money. Meyers then stood up, the other two following his lead, and shook their hands. "It was truly an honor to meet you and do business with you, Mr. Potter."
"Likewise, Mr. Meyers" Harry answered, his smile even more genuine than before. "And thank you very much."
"You're welcome. Have a nice day."
"You, too."
Dean nodded his farewell towards the man, who, after the door closed, collapsed into his chair with a sigh. He was just thankful that he survived an encounter with one of the famously infamous Winchesters.
"There's one more place I'd like to visit then we can go" Harry spoke as they stepped out of the bank. Dean followed him, taking a deep breath. He couldn't wait to get home.
They entered a wizarding pharmacy and Dean wandered around the place, while Harry searched for what he wanted to buy. The man raised his eyebrows at a couple of things, tilting his head at some of the gibberish-looking and sounding illnesses written on the containers. He heard Harry's voice as the boy asked for advice from the pharmacist. Five minutes later they were back on the street walking towards the tunnel which would transport them back to Salem, South Dakota. The sky was starting to darken as evening approached and the two were exhausted from being away from home and spending a lot of time waiting in silent places. Dean even took a catnap on the underground wizarding train – and that contraption was probably the most surprising revelation of the day for Harry.
As the sky started darkening to orange, a lone form made its way towards the Singer Salvage Yard. The T-shirt was soaked through with sweat and the long, chestnut-brown tresses stuck to the pale face.
Sam stumbled into the yard, one hand rising to his head as he tried to reach the house. Everything was spinning around him and one of his cheeks was throbbing in pain, the blisters feeling hot like heated iron, as if someone was burning his skin off of his face with a blazing hot iron poker. His breath stuttered as he tried to make his lungs work, and his brain had so much pressure inside, Sam was just waiting for it to explode. His body listed to the side and he stumbled, falling on his side. The fast beat of his heart grew louder and louder in his ears and the pain multiplied with it. His vision greyed out then turned white and he might've screamed from agony, but the thumping was so thunderous, it drowned out everything and he was scared his eardrums would explode.
A cool hand gripped his wrist, feverish receptors sending shocks of pain in reaction, and it pulled his fingers away from his face. The other cold hand stroked the hair out of his face, the temperature difference the best, yet worst feeling Sam had ever experienced in his life. The touch was gentle, though, so anyone showing tenderness towards him in this state must be here to help. So Sam sobbed out a plea:
"Make 't sto-op…"
"Shh, kiddo" the voice somehow penetrated the thrum in his ears. "You need to calm down or it'll get worse…"
Sam, out of reflex, yanked his free hand up, nails trying to scratch the pain out of his face, but it was snatched away before he could do it. He began blubbering, words flowing together in a way even he couldn't understand it. Someone help… Anyone… Harry…
Suddenly, his arm was draped around a slightly shorter man's shoulders – Bobby – and he was dragged to his feet. Sam could barely lift his feet, so he shuffled along, trying not to burden his friend with his weight. Before he could realize that he had a free hand, his other arm was wrapped around a second set of shoulders, and he was practically pulled forward.
It seemed like forever until his back was leant against something soft and cool and someone was undressing him, while the other held his arms down. Now that he was being taken care of, the fear of suffering alone was ebbing away, turning into the fear of suffering only. When he opened his eyes, he caught a hazy shape above him that he recognized as…
"Kyle…"
"It's okay, Sam" the younger man shushed, caressing Sam's forehead lightly after gripping both wrists with one hand. "You'll be alright." Sam just now realized he was lying down. He startled with a whimper, when a shadow flitted across his line of sight behind Kyle. He tried to crawl away, but Kyle kept him still. "Shh, Sam, it's just the ceiling fan."
"No" Sam breathed, now grasping Kyle's shirt. He knew where he was now. The panic room… "Don't leave me, please, don't leave…"
"Hey, kid" Bobby cradled Sam's head to grab his attention. "We're not gonna leave you down here alone again, okay?" Sam needed a few moments to take in the older man's words. He nodded, body relaxing fully in relief. "But I need you to do something for me" Bobby continued, stroking the still frightened boy's tresses soothingly. "Don't touch your cheek, no matter what! Can you do that for me?"
"Hurts…" Sam whimpered, as Kyle released his wrists and Bobby covered his shivering body with a blanket.
"We have to get his fever down" Bobby addressed Kyle and the boy hurried out of the panic room. Bobby sat onto the edge of the cot and Sam instantly grabbed onto the man's shirt. Moments later, Kyle ran back in with a cloth in his hand.
"Here" he gave the cloth to Bobby. "I'll go get a bowl of water."
Bobby waved the wet textile to cool it down then lay it against Sam's forehead. The kid moaned at the pain the coldness inflicted on him and curled up against him. Bobby didn't dare to touch the angry red blisters, not knowing what that would do to the younger Winchester and not having the heart to risk it. They spent a long time by Sam's side, Kyle only leaving when Bobby sent him up to make dinner for Dean and Harry. Sam thankfully fell asleep soon, although it was fitful. The hours were spent in monotony.
When the evening arrived in its navy blue cloak, Bobby heard the front door close. After some faint voices, footsteps rattled the staircase then Harry appeared in the panic room's entrance. The boy practically teleported to the side of the cot, hands immediately reaching out towards Sam, one stroking the damp locks, the other resting on the man's heart. Bobby jumped up to give his place to the wizard, who instantly took it.
"What happened?" Harry demanded, turning panicked emeralds to the older man. "What's wrong with him?"
"We don't know" Bobby shrugged, crossing his arms tensely. "He went jogging and when he returned he was already in pain and burning up." Harry's face turned into horror and Bobby knew the boy knew what caused this.
"I'm so sorry, Sammy" Harry whispered as he leant down and pressed a soothing kiss onto Sam's hot forehead, taking the cloth away and rewetting it to help his lover fight the fever, trying to keep him asleep. However, when he carefully pressed the cold cloth to the blisters, Sam cried out, eyes snapping open, as the man reached up to get rid of the pain and its source. Harry quickly grabbed the flailing arms to prevent Sam making things worse. Bobby jumped in, as well, holding Sam down.
"Shshh, Sammy" Harry shushed, pressing the cloth back against the blisters. "It's okay, you're alright, I'm gonna help you" Bobby felt Sam relax slightly at the sound of Harry's voice, a by now usual reaction. He was just happy for any relief the boy could get, although the moans of pain still broke his heart. Harry kept up the soothing words, not caring if he repeated himself many times. After a few minutes Sam managed to fall back to sleep despite the clash of the cold wetness and the painful blisters.
As the darkness receded and the haze cleared up, feverishly glittering hazel-green gaze focused on the slowly rotating ceiling fan, its shadow flitting across his face over and over. Sam tried to look around, even sit up, but something was holding his wrists down, not letting him move. His breaths picked up speed, when as his eyes slid to the right, his vision was half filled with darkness. He began panting in panic, trying to free himself from his shackles...
"Sammy?" came a soft whisper next to him. Sam snapped his head to its source and met with Dean's worried features above him. The older brother had a hand leaning onto the younger man's wrist. A familiar touch carded through Sam's hair, helping him gather himself together somewhat. "That's it, kiddo, just stay calm..."
"Can't see..." Sam whimpered, trying to move closer to his brother, wishing for his comfort. Tears leaked out of his eyes, both of them, the salt even stinging his blistered cheek, but why couldn't he see out of his right eye?
"Both or just one?" Dean's question made him freeze, frowning as he tried to understand it.
"O-One?" he suggested hesitantly, the heat finally registering around him dulling his thinking and senses. Dean visibly relaxed at his answer.
"It's okay" he said quietly. "Harry used some ointment on your face and it's bandaged up." The familiar touch carded through his hair again, loosening Sam's tense body up completely. - How are you feeling?
"Hot... Thristy... Hurts..." Sam replied in all honesty, his eyes beginning to burn with the heat of fever. Dean nodded and stood up turning to a side-table that was put next to the cot. Soon a glass of water was held to his lips, a hand helping to lift his head up so he could drink. He sipped at the cool liquid lazily, his stomach a little upset in his condition. As Dean put the glass back onto the table, Sam looked around.
The panic room still looked the same cluttered mess as usual when it wasn't used. The door was open, letting the air breeze through the room, bringing the cleanness of oxygen with it. Between the cot and the door sat a chair, which was clearly Dean's spot of vigilance over Sam. On the other side, though, sat a small form, curled up around his hand and keeping a firm grip on his wrist even in his sleep. Harry looked pale and his forehead was wrinkled with a frown, meaning his sleep was uneasy. Sam tried to dislodge the hold around his arm, but the boy was very firm and even tightened his fingers around it.
"We didn't want you to hurt yourself" Dean explained, noticing Sam eying his bonds. "You were pretty restless and delusional, we were worried." Sam nodded lethargically, already exhausted from his brief conscious period and the fever overtaking him. "Just go to sleep, Sammy. We'll take care of you..." That last whisper sent him off into blissful darkness, accompanied by a soft little whine from the back of his mind.
One eye peeked out above the wrinkled blanket, taking in the room in its entirety with a curious, innocent gleam. The door was now halfway closed, as if the last one leaving didn't really care about shutting it completely. The two chairs on both sides of the bed were empty. The occupant of the cot slowly uncurled from the middle, soft whimpers escaping him as tired, sore limbs moved against rough materials. It felt like the skin was being scrubbed with sandpaper. Long, chestnut-brown locks fell into his face, damp and sticky with sweat, so he violently shook his head to get rid of them. He lifted one hand to brush at the thing blocking half of his vision, but a painful whine erupted from his lungs at one touch. At least the thing was gone now. A cold waft of air sent a shiver all over his body, even his teeth chattering from the force.
"Sam?" came a kind voice that helped him forget every pain he was feeling. Looking up, the small form with deep green eyes was standing in the doorway, watching him with concern and hope. He tilted his head to the side, groaning in confusion at the name. Sam? Who's-? But then he realized the answer. He was Sam... yet he wasn't.
Harry watched as Sam sat on the cot, confused by the man's reaction to his name. He looked on, trying to figure out what was going on with his lover, just as recognition lit up the pale features. At least the flush of fever was non-existent now, letting the chocolate-brown eyes shine through-
Chocolate-brown?
A whine broke the silence, snapping Harry out of his amazement. Could it be...?
"Hey" Harry spoke again, his voice soft as he cautiously approached, not wanting to seem threatening. Sam leaned forward curiously, swaying a little and showing his still weakened state like this. Harry slowly reached the cot and sat on its edge, hoping Sam would let him.
And the man more than let him.
Sam roughly landed his hand on Harry's shoulder, pulling him a little closer then buried his nose into Harry's neck, taking a big whiff of his scent. Sam groaned pleased, nuzzling the white skin before leaning back and grinning at the other. Harry smiled at the gesture, stroking Sam's hair tenderly in return.
"And who might you be?" Harry asked more to himself, but the tilt of Sam's head showed that the other heard it. Sam opened his mouth with a frown and a small, softer bark of a dog left him. Harry chuckled in surprise as he continued stroking Sam's hair. Now he was sure what was going on: Sam's animal side broke forward, probably awakened and curious, grabbing the opportunity at the wheel as Sam retreated to the darker recesses of his mind... just like Harry had done. Does this mean Sam's animagus form would be a dog? Well, the loyalty was there, not to mention the lethal puppy-dog eyes... This will be interesting.
"Do you have a name?" Harry asked and Sam seemed to wilt, his eyes big and round in sadness. "It's alright" Harry continued, heart breaking at the sight. "We'll think of something later." Sam whined sadly then leaned forward unsteadily, trying to burrow into Harry. The boy grabbed Sam's shoulders to steady him then shifting to the head of the cot so his back was against the wall, he pulled the other into his arms. Sam's body was shaking as the man moved around to find the comfortable pose to lie in, finally deciding on laying his uninjured cheek against Harry's chest, resting his weight on the boy, who wrapped him in a loose hug, stroking his back leisurely. Sam let out a huge sigh that brought a smile to Harry's face: it sounded so much like a dog's final sigh before falling to sleep in the sun. The shivers persisted in Sam's body, barely subsiding from Harry's fingers rubbing gently at them, which meant that Sam was still suffering from a small fever and the leftover strain of the fight inside him.
Harry, knowing the man needed sleep, began humming softly, attempting to lull Sam into sleep. The man yawned with a very dog-like groan then rubbed his face into Harry's chest, settling down. Soon small snores fluttered up to Harry's ears as the innocent creature in his arms sank into the ocean of dreams.
The small creak of the panic room's door startled Harry back to the land of the living. He wiped the sleep out of his eyes, trying to remember when he had fallen asleep. Soft, snuffling breaths reached his consciousness and when he looked down, he saw Sam still curled up against his chest, one hand resting on Harry's heart. The man was shivering even in his sleep, goose bumps littering the paler skin.
"How is he?" came the whisper from his side. Dean had crept into the room, checking on his brother. Harry pulled the blanket up to cover Sam's trembling body, creating a cocoon out of it for his freezing lover.
"Fever seems to be down" Harry mumbled, carding his fingers through the finally dried brown locks. Sam sighed in contentment but otherwise stayed still. "He can be an Animagus." Dean's eyes widened and he plopped himself down onto the edge of the cot.
"What makes you say that?"
"This is not Sam" Harry said, nodding his head at Sam in his arms.
"Then who is it?" Dean asked, stroking his brother's head. The still sleeping man gave out another sigh with a small groan. The look that crossed Dean's face was comical: an interesting mixture of shock and 'He's so adorable'.
"D'no" Harry shrugged. "I don't think he has a name yet. He's just a puppy."
"Puppy?" Dean asked confused.
"He must be some dog-like creature." Dean snickered, shoulders shaking as he kept his laughter controlled and quiet, not wanting to wake his resting brother. "Not surprising, eh?" Harry grinned as Dean shook his head no.
"Guess he had it coming" Dean joked. The two sniggered some more at this before the mood grew somber. "You think Jade could help?" Dean asked hesitantly.
"He should be able to" Harry sighed. "He's still pissed, though… But I'll try to convince him."
"Thanks" Dean stood up, watching as Harry closed his eyes and settled down. He snuck out of the room noiselessly, not wishing to disturb Harry's concentration.
Chocolate-brown eyes blinked sleepily as their owner woke slowly. He looked around, feeling quite comfortable wrapped up in the soft, worn blanket. However, when he looked up, sharp, angry jade-green eyes stabbed into him, watching him. He whined and cowered in fear, recognizing the features instantly, except for the eyes. Who is this?
"Jade!" a deep voice barked out and he snapped his head towards it at the same time as the other. He immediately recognized the older blonde man standing in the doorway. He had a tray of delicious food in his hands that he placed next to them. "That's not Sam." His mate – 'wasn't he named Harry?' – turned a shocked gaze back at him then nuzzled his neck timidly, asking for forgiveness. When… Jade? … pulled away, he leaned into him, nuzzling back and licking cautiously at the revealed skin. A deep purr began droning on, as the small hands rubbed his back. So his mate is a cat? That's strange…
"Take care of him, kitty" Dean spoke again, stroking Jade's black tresses. Jade smiled before leaning his head onto Sam's, who was blinking sleepily up at the man. Dean carded his fingers through Sam's hair with a gentle smile and his brother groaned contently. With that, he left them alone.
Jade turned his gaze onto the pup in his arms. He felt the anger bubbling furiously in his gut at the sight of Sam, but the innocent, once again terrified brown eyes prevented it to burst. He just couldn't be mad at the young pup for his human's mistakes. Not that he could ever be truly furious with the man, either…
With a sigh, he nuzzled the pup's neck, flinching inwardly at the whimper of terror that escaped out of the youngling. He had to make him understand that his anger wasn't aimed at him… An idea sprung into his mind. Pulling away, he gripped the pup's head and with a gentle look he rested his forehead against the others.
Pictures of the past days rushed by him and towards the pup, who whined at the sudden intrusion before settling into silence, giving his attention to Jade's message. Only the swish of the fan filled the room, the two locked in their own, and each other's, minds. As the shadow of the spinning blades moved to the side, the pup collapsed against Jade with a yelp, panting from exhaustion. Jade cradled the youngling in his arms, not caring about the size difference between them, purring soothingly to calm the other down.
The pup needed long minutes to get his strength back and when he did, he promptly sat upright and pushed his forehead against Jade's.
'We're sorry, so so sorry, p-please, so so so sorry-' the pup sent him the words through his mind in Sam's voice, but it wasn't the deep timbre of an aged, mature hunter of decades, but the higher pitched tone of a freshly born, innocent creature. Jade could just hear the desperate whines over the pleading words. Tears suddenly filled his eyes. He could never be angry at this poor pup, nor his human. He began purring, even as the tears flowed down his cheeks. He tried to shush the youngling, but the connection was severed as the pup pulled back and tenderly licked at Jade's tears in an effort to calm him. Soon the pup bumped his forehead back against Jade's and the next words rushed through the link:
''s okay, take care o'you, 's okay, 's okay, love ya, loveyaloveyaloveyaloveya-'
Jade pulled the pup even closer, fastening his lips against the other's for a human kiss, the only way he could think of to project his complete love, devotion and adoration for this youngling… and Sam…
The pup froze in shock, but it soon passed, leaving him boneless and dazed with happiness. Everything Jade was feeling was pouring through their mental link, overwhelming his innocent mind. His limbs soon grew limp and only then did he understand the magnitude of the love towards his human the kitten was harboring. When they separated, he could only gaze up at Jade, barely seeing him through the haze. Jade stroked his head and resumed his purring, rocking him slightly. As he fell back to sleep yet again, he felt the touch of Jade's forehead on his as their mental link opened up once more.
When Harry woke up, he felt the usual residues of fatigue from Jade's appearance. He shifted, wincing slightly from the ache in his back. It seemed Jade had fallen asleep sitting against the wall on the cot. He felt strangely light, a weight off of his body…
He jolted so suddenly, he fell off the cot. Sam was nowhere in sight.
He knew the pup had fallen asleep in his arms, but he wasn't here now and now that he looked around, the panic room's door was open and what if Sam got hurt or taken or killed-?
He only caught up with himself on the top of the basement stairs and he began running to the living room… where he stopped abruptly, his heart skipping a beat in the process.
Dean was on the couch, the TV gently humming its contents to its audience.
And Sam was curled up on his side, head pillowed on Dean's thigh, looking so fragile, thin and adorable, especially since Dean was stroking the brown locks tenderly, ruffling them affectionately, yet absent-mindedly.
"You okay?" Dean asked, noticing Harry's disheveled state and clearly trying to hide his grin. His voice, though, was soft, mindful about the sleeping pup with him.
"Yeah, sure" Harry panted out, finally relaxing when he found everything and everyone intact. "Aside from a ruddy heart attack." His nonchalant response brought a snicker forth from Dean.
"He wandered upstairs" Dean explained when Harry joined him on the couch. "He looked scared and lost, so I took care of him." Harry smiled gratefully, a knowing look flashing across his features. "I fed him and he pursued me to relax with him here."
"Still no Sam?" Harry asked and Dean shook his head slightly. "I'm curious what he is."
"I thought you said he's a dog" Dean remarked confused.
"No, I said dog-like" Harry rebutted. "He could be a dog, but it's possible he's a wolf, or even a Crup for all I know."
"A what?" Dean's eyebrows ran so high up his forehead that Harry thought they would disappear in his hair.
"A dog-like creature with a forked tail" Harry waved, dismissing the idea. Dean looked down at Sam with a contemplating look then nodded in the usual sign of 'Guess you have a point.'
"Hey" came a voice from the entrance of the room. The pair on the couch looked up and found Kyle in the doorway, the boy's eyes, wide from surprise, pinned onto Sam. "Is he alright?"
"He's fine" Harry answered, stroking Sam's hair lovingly. He didn't see that at his touch Sam woke up, but Kyle frowned when chocolate-brown eyes blinked up at him. Suddenly, Sam jolted and shot upright, his eyes wide as he watched Kyle, as if he had just woken enough to realize the boy was standing there.
"Easy" Dean murmured, wrapping his arms around Sam. "It's okay, he won't hurt you." Sam tilted his head, taking in Kyle's form then sniffing the air. His eyes widened then slid onto Dean with a curious glance.
The man promptly jumped out of his skin when Sam leaned in to his neck, sniffing deeply. He glared at Harry, who had the audacity to silently laugh his ass off. Sam pulled back with a grin and made use of his long arm by grabbing Kyle's hand and dragging him closer. With the strength of his pull, the boy landed in Dean's lap, who could only wrap his arms around him in his surprise. Sam then reached over and yanked Harry into his own. The wizard only laughed before letting Sam nuzzle his neck and snuggle into him.
"Good work, love" he whispered as Dean and Kyle shared a loving kiss, enjoying the contact Sam 'forced' upon them. Sam, or more like the pup, watched curiously the exchange between the other two then turned big, brown eyes onto Harry. The boy smiled endearingly, chuckling when Sam's cheeks colored in a long-time-not-seen blush. He leaned in and pressed his lips onto Sam's in a chaste kiss.
The clearing of a throat brought the two couples out of their pink love-cloud and they found Bobby standing in the doorway with his arms folded, a genuinely amused look on his face. Harry and Dean could see, though, that the man was happy to see them so in love.
"Am I interrupting something?" Bobby asked jokingly. His voice instantly brought a bright grin onto Sam's face. Harry quickly scooted off the pup's lap and just in time: Sam jumped up and tackled Bobby in a hug. The older man's breath was shoved out in a rush, making everyone laugh. But when Sam nuzzled his neck with a pleased groan, Bobby returned his enthusiastic hug tightly.
"Good to see you, too, kid." Sam pulled back with a shy smile and Bobby could finally see the deep brown eyes. "Huh" he said.
"Strange, isn't it?" Dean helpfully added then turned to Harry. "Will he have brown eyes when he changes?"
"Well, he must have a distinctive feature" Harry replied thinking. "His eyes are an interesting color, so he may have his original hue. But it could be something else… Can you change?" he addressed his question to the pup. Sam's cheeks grew darker before he nodded then hurried up the stairs.
"Where'd he go?" Bobby asked, taking a seat in the armchair.
"To change into his animal form" Harry answered once again. "Some wizards and witches tend to lose their clothing after the change." The others nodded, Dean a little embarrassed. They fell silent when the patter of claws floated into the living room. They looked towards the entrance door to wait.
The muzzle of a chestnut-brown wolf poked around the doorframe, clearly shy like his human. Harry smiled and slipped off the couch onto his knees, beckoning the creature closer with his fingers. The wolf cautiously treaded into the room, revealing its slim body, long fur falling in soft waves down on its torso, the color darker at his spine and slowly lightening towards the end of the hairs. It had chocolate-brown eyes, though, not hazel. The right side of its muzzle was furless and blistered now, since Sam was injured.
"I think we have the distinguishing feature" Kyle said as Harry stroked down the wolf's back when it got close enough. The wolf looked at him, eyes glinting happily then lay onto its
belly, resting his head in Harry's lap.
"And he's a bit bigger than the average wolf" Bobby supplied, taking in the creature. He, however, noticed the pain flitting across Dean's features as the green eyes stuck onto the blisters on the wolf's muzzle. Harry's grin faltered, when, gaze roaming over the others, he caught Dean's anguish.
"He'll be fine" he assured him softly. The wolf blinked up at his mate then followed his gaze towards Dean. He whined sadly at the suffering of his human's brother. Dean just nodded with a swallow, forcing his gaze away from the blisters and taking in his little brother's animagus form. He couldn't speak, though, from the lump in his throat, the sight of the blisters seared into his brain forever.
"We should name him" Kyle suggested as a subject change. "After all, Jade has a name, too." Harry seemed to consider the wolf, trying to pick something that fit him.
"Whatever you decide, just don't name him Two Socks or Maugrim" Bobby piped in.
"You read the Narnia books?" Dean asked incredulously.
"Can't a guy have a hobby?" Bobby returned with a shrug. Dean just shook his head.
"I know" Harry spoke softly, his gaze saddened by memories. "Romulus…"
Dean wanted to ask why Harry chose that name but then his brain supplied the answer: Remus… Remus Lupin…
"I think it's great" Kyle said, smiling adoringly at the wolf when it licked Harry's chin to cheer him up.
"Yeah" Dean agreed. "Makes him sound cool." Everyone laughed and Harry hugged the wolf's neck tenderly, letting Romulus snuggle into him once more.
TBC...
So, hope you likey!
Isn't Romulus a cutey? ^-^ He's the only canine I planned to involve... except maybe for someone else. Like I said this story will be feline-centered, unlike Puppy Love (andimgonnaupdatethatsometimesoonpromise).
Hope to see you back at the next chapter!