A/N: Thank you all! Seriously, your reviews/follows/favs have been amazing. I really appreciate them all!
Harry was led to a familiar beat up blue truck. One he'd spied only earlier that morning from the diner. Despite the revelation, Harry didn't hesitate in climbing into the cabin. He didn't know where John Winchester planned to take him, but he knew it had to be better than staying here with the crazed black eyed old woman.
Neither of them spoke until John had them tearing down the road, tyres squealing.
Harry was the first to break the silence. "What was she?" He asked, turning to look out the back window at the slowly fading bus terminal.
"Demon." John Winchester told him bluntly.
"Demon?" Harry repeated. He turned back in his seat to stare at John. The older man's face was lined with hardship. His brown hair and the stubble on his face were streaked with patches of white. His lips were pursed with the corners flickering down into a frown every now and then.
He didn't answer Harry's question. Instead the older man flickered his eyes over to Harry and looked him up and down. "You alright?" He asked gruffly.
"Fine," Harry lied. His whole body felt tight and uncomfortably warm, like he was turning into one giant bruise. His ankle was throbbing worse than ever before.
"Right." John agreed disbelievingly. "I'm John. John Winchester." He introduced himself.
"I know." Harry said. "I'm Harry Potter."
"I know." John mimicked with a small smile tugging at his lips. John's eyes flickered back over to him a moment later. "Your Lily's boy?" John asked.
Harry nodded his head mutely.
"You have her eyes." John spoke quietly into the space between them.
"Yeah." Harry gulped uncomfortably. "How did you find me?" He asked instead of asking the question he really wanted to know. Did John know he was Harry's father? Did he know Harry had come looking for him?
"I got word from an old friend that there was a kid asking around about me in Kansas." John told him hesitantly. "And then the boys ran into you. I've been following you all day since the diner." John admitted. He glanced over at Harry. "What's in Chicago?" John asked.
Harry shrugged and turned to look out the window. "I just picked the next bus leaving." He could feel John's eyes on him again but Harry didn't turn around.
"I would've thought you'd have headed back to England after the way the boys treated you this morning." John commented.
And Harry shrunk down in his seat just slightly. "I thought I'd stick around. See more of America." Harry mumbled somewhat nervously. So John had seen something of the conversation between Harry and his sons that morning? Harry didn't know whether John agreed with Dean given the man hadn't intervened.
"Yeah?" John let out a sigh. Harry chanced a glance over at the man. John was rubbing at his brow looking tired and not the least bit stressed.
"Yeah." Harry agreed, turning his attention back to looking out the window. They drove in silence after that. Harry wasn't sure for how long but it had to be approaching nearly an hour later when John next spoke. His voice jolted Harry from the doze he was beginning to slip into.
"How'd she die?" John asked. He was staring straight ahead with his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "Your mom." John clarified when Harry didn't speak.
"She-," Harry swallowed uncomfortably. "She was murdered when I was one."
Harry heard John let out a sigh. "Who did it?" John asked tightly.
Harry turned his attention away from John to look out the windscreen. Darkness had fallen and only the headlights provided light on the stretch of road they were travelling.
"A man named Voldemort." Harry forced the hated name past his lips. "He killed my Dad- err, my step-dad, first and then he came for me. She wouldn't stand aside so he- he killed her." Harry admitted.
"He came for you?" John asked and Harry could hear the confusion in the man's voice.
Harry swallowed and shook his head. This was one question Harry didn't want to talk about. Not when the prophecy was still so fresh in his memories. 'Either must die at the hands over the other… for neither can live while the other survives...' a haunting voice echoed through Harry's mind and made him shiver.
"I'm sorry." John said. And whether he was apologising for his mother's death or for the question, Harry didn't know. All the same, Harry swallowed and nodded his head in acceptance of the apology.
Silence fell on the two of them again and Harry half expected it to stretch just as long as it had before. But John surprised him when he spoke only a minute later.
"Why'd you come looking for me? Why now?" John asked. Harry felt his eyes flicker over to him.
Harry shrugged uneasily. "I only just found out that you existed. I thought, I always thought James Potter was my father." Harry explained softly.
"Oh." John murmured. "So, who's been looking after you all this time?" John asked casually. His attempt to switch them to a lighter, easier conversation was as painfully obvious as it was a painful failure.
"My Aunt and Uncle." Harry replied, his voice clipped.
"You, er, like it there? They're good people?" John asked.
Harry stiffened slightly. "Where are we going, anyway?" He asked. The attempt to change the conversation was more than a little on the nose but John allowed it all the same.
"I have a friend that lives in South Dakota." John explained. "He used to look after the boys when they were younger. You'll be safe there." John added.
"Oh." Harry said. He turned slightly in his seat so he could press his forehead against the cool glass of the passenger side window. The position had the added bonus of sheltering his expression from John's quick glances.
Harry couldn't stop the sting of pain in his chest. Here he was, once again, being placed somewhere like some unwanted burden. His eyes stung with the sharp prickle of tears but there was no way in hell Harry was about to let them fall. Instead he blinked them back.
"I'll call the boys when we arrive, have them meet us there. I'll talk to them and set 'em straight." John said into the oppressive silence. He glanced over at Harry when the teen offered no response. "Harry?" John called softly, his voice sounding somewhat worried.
"I'm tired." Harry murmured softly. He didn't move his head from its position.
"Oh okay." John agreed. The man sighed lightly. "You get some shut eye, then. We're still a few hours out yet."
Harry didn't respond. He just watched the darkness zipping past with eyes that were still stubbornly misty.
Despite himself, Harry did end up slipping into an uneasy sleep at some point during the drive. When he awoke next it was to the grey of early morning outside his window. Harry looked out the window and realised they were stationary at what looked like a petrol station. Sitting up, Harry felt something slip from his shoulders. His seeker reflexes had him reaching out and catching whatever it was before it could slip fully to the floor. It took Harry several long seconds until he realised what he was holding was John's long leather jacket. Apparently at some point in the night, John had covered Harry with it.
Harry looked up as the driver's side door was pulled open. John climbed into the cab offering Harry a tired smile. The man held two cups in his hands and a plastic bag. He held one of the cups out for Harry.
"Hope you like tea." John said as he handed it over. Harry took the cup and although he would have preferred a refreshing cup of coffee, he couldn't deny the tea was comforting.
John held out the plastic bag. After a hesitant moment, Harry took that as well.
"I didn't know what you liked, so I got a couple different things." John told him as he started up the engine again.
"Thanks." Harry murmured. He pawed through the selection of hot baked pastries, fruit and cereal bars with little interest. After only a few moments, Harry set the bag down onto the seat between them without having taken anything.
"Not hungry?" John asked. Harry shook his head in the negative. "Not much of a morning person, are you?" John commented lightly. To this Harry offered no response. "Right." John sighed.
Harry returned to gazing out the window as he sipped at his tea.
"So Harry, tell me something about yourself." John instructed idly after the silence between them had stretched for several kilometres.
"Like what?" Harry asked with a sigh. He barely glanced over at John before returning his attention back to the passing scenery.
"Er, I don't know. What kind of hobbies do you have?" John floundered after a moment.
Harry shrugged. He could hardly tell his father that his one true hobby was flying on his broomstick, now could he?
"Well, what about school?" John asked.
"I go to a boarding school in Scotland." Harry told him.
"Oh? That must be hard. Do you miss your aunt and uncle?" John wondered. The man was simply happy he'd finally gotten the boy to talk, even if his tone was flat and lifeless. John was sure he'd messed up at some point last night although what he'd said wrong, he didn't know.
Harry snorted humorously at that. "No." Harry said simply.
John flickered a look over at the boy but Harry was still staring stubbornly out the window. "What about friends then? You have any of those?" John asked.
Harry turned to face the older man. He stared at John for several disquieting seconds. "What do you care?" Harry demanded.
"Excuse me?" John flickered his gaze over at the teen beside him.
"If you're bored just turn the bloody radio on." Harry bit out at last. He turned back to face out the window. "Stop asking me questions. Stop… Stop pretending to care." He grumbled.
"I'm not-," John broke off to sigh uncomfortably. "I'm not pretending to care, Harry." He told the boy. "If this is about me not being there, I think it should be obvious I didn't know about you." John awkwardly said.
"I know that." Harry grunted. In truth, Harry was feeling oddly numb. He was so very tired of being the unwanted burden. It seemed Harry was cursed to watch all the relatives that loved and wanted him, die.
In that regard, maybe Harry should be pleased his father didn't seem to want him around. Maybe that meant the man might actually survive.
"Was it something I said, then?" John asked.
Harry let out a sigh. "How long until we reach your friends?" Harry asked instead of answering the man's question. He could feel John's eyes on the back of his head.
"Only another hour or two." John eventually answered, sounding resigned.