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Angela's sweaty hands were gripping the wheel of her SUV as they raced through the traffic. John was casually sitting beside her, flipping through the Black Bible, while a terrified Harry sat in the back seat. He was seriously considering changing his religious commitment.
"The myth says Mammon was conceived before his father's fall from grace but was born after." John spoke calmly while Harry cursed the moment he agreed to sit in the car. He'd pick a broom or even floo any time over this. He almost whined when Angela evaded another near collision. 'God, Demon, whoever listens, please let me survive this! I'll never do stupid stunts on a broom after this ever again, I swear!'
"But unlike his old man, he's never been in the presence of the Creator so he has no fear of him; no respect either." John stopped there and raised an eyebrow. "That goes double for us." He drawled and Angela threw him a sideways glare. John pursed his lips at her slightly and shrugged before he went back to the book. "Mammon would be the last demon we'd ever want crossing over." He muttered into his chin.
"But you said – shit!" Harry cursed in the middle of his sentence when Angela took a sharp turn and he hit his head against the side mirror. "WATCH IT!" he snapped and Angela shot him an apologizing look through the rearview mirror. "You said demons can't come and go!"
"Unless they found a bridge." John said and cast a sideways glance at Angela. "Some psychic with the chops to reach all the way to Hell and the grit to withstand whatever shit she'd pull out."
"Isabel." Angela concluded and John hummed. In the back seat Harry almost whined when they swiveled between honking cars.
"Just a bridge wouldn't help Mammon," John continued and snapped the Bible closed. "To cross over, the myth says he'd still need the one thing he could never get; divine assistance." He looked at Angela. "The help of God." Angela hit the breaks and they screeched to a stop in a small alleyway. They heard a gasped 'thank Merlin' from Harry but chose to ignore it.
"So it's impossible." Angela said and leaned back in her seat.
"Impossible? Sure it's impossible." John said with a note of irony. "That's what makes it so dangerous. These things exist to break the rules, to find the loopholes. If the past is any indication, then the future isn't on our side." He sat back and looked at the roof of the SUV.
"She knew." Angela said. "That's why she killed herself." She frowned and looked out. "But it doesn't make sense."
"Makes sense to me." John said and looked out the window.
"John, she sacrificed herself to beat him." Angela insisted and looked back at Harry in search for support.
"Your point?" John asked dryly. Angela looked back at him and brown met lake blue.
"Why is she in Hell?"
And for the first time in a while John had no answer.
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Harry practically jumped out of the car and resisted the urge to kiss the solid ground. John rushed to the back of the building of the bowling alley they had parked behind, and Angela and Harry caught up with him the moment he unlocked the door. They ran to the back and stopped before the door that led behind the pin area. A few flies flittered from somewhere. All three were silent and a shiver passed down their spines when they heard a low buzzing sound coming from behind the door.
"Beeman?" John called and grabbed the door that led behind the pin area. It was locked from the inside.
"Hey, Beeman? Beeman?!" he called and knocked hard a few times.
Harry felt bad. He felt really, really bad, and it had very little to do with the ride of his lifetime he just survived. His sensitive nose was picking up on the weak stench of sulfur and something else that was covered by the sulfur's stench.
"Maybe he's not here." Angela said and John shot her an annoyed glance.
"He's always here." He grumbled and spared a look at Harry. He frowned immediately when he saw Harry's pale skin, his dilated eyes and shaking hands. His breathing was slightly strained and small beads of sweat appeared on his brow.
"Harry?" he called and Angela looked at the wizard.
"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked and grabbed his hand when Harry's breath started to come out in short gasps.
"Can't - can't you feel it?" he gasped out and looked at John. When their eyes met John felt a sense of dread grip at his heart. He moved back a little and kicked the door open. He saw a few more flies fly by them and then he spotted the source of the hum. Down the metal way, behind the pin area he saw a cloud of flies. Angela followed his gaze and her eyes settled on the same buzzing cloud.
"What?" Angela murmured in wonder. John started to walk down the metal way. Each step was a bit faster than the last one. Angela followed him and neither noticed how Harry hesitated or how he turned chalk white within a second.
Soon enough John and Angela saw the source of the swarm; a solid mound of flies and a hand protruding from under it.
"Oh Jesus, no." John ripped his coat off and flung it at the mound, and millions of flies scattered around to reveal the body of a man.
Beeman.
Flies were pouring out of his mouth and ears.
"Oh God." Angela gasped and turned away while John suddenly went ballistic.
"Who are you?" John screamed.
In the back Harry whimpered when that huge pressure came back with a vengeance, and his knees met the floor. His magic woke up and lashed out. The panther inside him roared to be set free but the pressure made it impossible for Harry to move.
"John!" he whimpered, but it went unheard.
"Answer me!" John shouted over the millions of buzzing flies and Harry covered his ears with his hands. He curled into himself. Whimpers passed his lips. It felt like he was drowning at the bottom of the ocean. His lungs felt like they were filled with lead, and it felt like the pressure would crush him.
'John. Stop. Please!'
"God, damn it! Reveal yourself!" John screamed not caring about Angela who stared at him with wide fearful eyes or Harry whose own magic was turning on him. "I summon you!"
He angrily ripped his sleeves up and revealed two distinct tattoos on his forearms. He slammed them together and a wave of incredible power spread over the room.
And Harry screamed in pain.
The panther within him roared. He wanted to shift and run away but his magic was uncontrollable. It was responding to the power in the air and it added to the pressure that was slowly drowning Harry.
He was suddenly left without breath and he could only gasp as he started to choke. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and his sight faded to black, but the blessed unconsciousness he was praying for just wouldn't come.
Angela gaped and stepped back in awe as the air around John started to warp and tear a faint hole from the bowling alley right into another darker, burning world.
Hell.
"Into the light I command thee!" John roared. His eyes seemed almost demonic with rage, and a wave of burning hot air washed over them. "Into the light I-…" the rest of the sentence was lost in a choked cough. His arms separated and he fell on his knees.
Angela rushed to his side and tried to help him up but hesitated when she saw fresh blood on the floor.
"This is my fault." He blurted out. "I sent them in. I sent them right to their deaths; a damn one-man plague." John spat out while he tried to gain some breath.
"John, you need a doctor." Angela hurried over to him. "Harry!" she called out and gripped John's arm only for him to swat her arms away.
"I've seen a goddamn doctor!" Angela glared at him.
"Harry!" she called again and gave John a pointed glare when the man tried to push her away when she kneeled beside him to help him stand up. "Damn it, where is he? HARRY!" Angela called again and John realized Harry wasn't with them.
"Harry?" he breathed out as dread overtook his heart. In a second he remembered how pale Harry was the last time he crossed over when the younger man was near. John's heart started beating faster and he started hyperventilating.
"Harry!" he shouted and pushed away from Angela. He walked back as fast as he could with Angela close behind.
What they found made both of their hearts stop.
"Oh, God, no." John and ran forward. Harry's prone body was on the floor.
His eyes were milky green and down his cheeks ran what seemed to be bloody tears. Blood was coming out of his nose and ears and a small trail of blood came from his mouth.
John fell on his knees beside Harry, immediately checking Harry's neck for a pulse.
"Oh my God," Angela gasped and stumbled back.
"It's okay! He's alive!" John snapped and leaned over Harry's head. He gently slapped Harry's cheek and called for him.
"Harry? Harry, snap out of it!" for the first time in a while he felt actual fear. "Harry! Snap the fuck out of it!" he roared and slapped Harry's cheek a bit harder. "HARRY!"
With a sharp intake of breath Harry lurched forward and started coughing. John turned him over to his side and rubbed his back soothingly. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard that Harry managed to breathe in. The smaller man was still gasping for breath, he was shaking almost frantically and his whole body was cramping up.
"Thank God, thank God, thank God," he heard Angela rant under her breath but his eyes were on Harry.
"Angela, call the police."
"I'll call the ambulance-…"
"No!" Harry stopped her, and Angela and John looked at him. "Don't call the ambulance for me. They can't help me." His voice was broken and raspy; as if he screamed for hours. His skin was cold and clammy, and his lips were blue.
"You call the police and I'll take him up to Beeman's apartment," John said and lifted Harry up with a bit of an effort. Angela nodded with her phone already in her hand.
"John?"
John hushed him. "You idiot. Why didn't you get out? Why didn't you use that fancy teleportation thingy and leave?" Harry chuckled weakly in his arms as John looked around for Beeman's bedroom. The place wasn't exactly clean but it would do for now.
"It's called Apparation, John," Harry's eyes were closing slowly. He was on the verge of falling asleep. "And I couldn't. It happened too fast." John lay him down on the bed.
"Don't fall asleep on me, Harry, you hear me?" John spoke in a warning tone. He was breathing hard, but he didn't know if it was his sickness, tiredness or worry for Harry. "You can't go to sleep just yet."
"Mm-okay." Harry mumbled and turned his head up to stare at the ceiling. John exhaled as he rushed out of the room and ran into the bathroom. He found a clean basin and a few clean towels. He filled the basin with cold water and brought it into the room. He saw Harry's eyes were still open and ran to the kitchen for a glass of water. 'At least the water's clean.' He thought as he returned into the bedroom.
"Harry?" he called when he placed the glass of water beside the basin and towels. John frowned when Harry didn't answer. "Harry!" he snapped and Harry blinked tiredly.
"Sorry." He mumbled and John heaved a sigh of relief.
"Let's get some water into you." He said and took a seat beside Harry. Harry helped him as much as he could as John pulled him up. He settled behind Harry and pulled him back so that he was leaning into him back to chest.
John reached over for the glass of water and slowly brought it to Harry's lips.
"Easy now, sip by sip." He instructed gently. Harry's right hand twitched as if he wanted to reach up but he was too weak to move. "That's it," John spoke warmly. His heart was slowly calming and he felt a wave of fatigue wash over him. 'He's fine. He didn't die.'
Harry finished the glass of water and leaned back against John's chest with a sigh. John placed the glass beside the basin and took a towel.
"Sorry for this," Harry muttered and a steel hand gripped John's heart. His hand, the one he was squeezing the excess water from the towel with, shook and he bit his lip.
"You have nothing to feel sorry about. This is my fault. I noticed you were somehow affected by the crossing. I should have been more careful." John said and gently started to wipe Harry's face with the towel.
"I should have told you the first time it happened." Harry's voice was not louder than a breath, and John closed his eyes for a moment. His hand with the towel stopped on Harry's forehead while John buried his face in Harry's hair and breathed in Harry's unique scent.
"Rest now. We'll talk when you're feeling better," he said.
"Okay," Harry breathed out and relaxed against John. After a moment John went back to cleaning Harry's face and neck. He did his best to concentrate on Harry as to stop himself from thinking about Hennessey and Beeman.
He lost himself in the gentle cleaning of Harry's pale skin and the scent which seemed to pull him in.
He would think later.
For now he allowed himself to focus on Harry and everything he wanted, but will never be allowed to have.
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Angela peeked into the one room she had yet to look in only to find John and Harry on the small, one person bed. John was sitting against the headboard and Harry's head was in John's lap. Angela noticed Harry's face was clean but the water and the towels on the bedside table were stained with blood.
Lake blue met brown, and Angela offered John a small, sad smile.
"Beeman's body was taken. I said I took your report and sent you home. I'll write it down when I get to my own report." John nodded although Angela could see in his eyes he was distracted. "How is he?" she asked and entered the room. She took a seat in a chair which she pulled to the bed.
"He's asleep. His breathing is still a bit strained, but at least he stopped cramping up and shivering." John said. His eyes never left Harry's sleeping face. Angela cleared her throat and looked at her hands. John brushed a strand of Harry's hair behind his ears when Angela spoke and his hand stilled.
"You see something in me. Something Isabel saw as well." John sighed.
"Go home, Angela," he said tiredly.
"I need to understand, John." John shook his head but never looked away from Harry.
"Why not?" Angela asked, obviously distraught.
"Because you open up to that world, you're inviting whatever's out there back in. That's what happened to Isabel," John replied.
"I'm not Isabel," Angela stressed out.
"No," John said and looked at her. "She embraced her gift while you denied yours – don't look at me like that!" John hissed when Angela gave him a shocked look. "You denied it and that denial's exactly why you're still alive. Stick with me and that'll change." He looked down at Harry again. "And I don't need another ghost following me around." He ended with a clear dismissal but Angela wasn't about to give up.
"Damn it, John!" she shouted but pulled back what she saw Harry frown and when John shot her a warning glare. "They killed my sister! I can't let them get away with that. Even if it means going down the same path she did. Now, if you won't help me get there, I'll find my own way. But I won't run; ever again." John looked at her with a frown when tears gathered in Angela's eyes.
"When we -when we were little I used to pretend that I couldn't see." She whispered and tears started to trail down her cheeks. "She never pretended like I did! She would always say what she saw and our parents were afraid of it! Afraid of her!" she stressed out. "And then one day, when father and mother had enough of her stories she turned to me and she said 'Tell them, Angy! Tell them you see it too!'" she gasped and wiped her tears away in anger. "And I - I denied it! I betrayed her trust! I left her alone with the demons! Soon enough I stopped seeing them and Isabel never spoke another word." For a moment the two just stared at each other.
"Please. I need to understand." Angela said imploringly and John sighed. He looked down at Harry again. Color was slowly returning to his cheeks and his lips weren't blue anymore. It looked like he was recovering pretty fast. 'Must be his magic,' he thought with fondness that surprised him. He looked at Angela again and their eyes met straight on.
"You do this, there's no turning back," he said firmly. "You see them - they see you. Understand?" Angela nodded.
"We'll do this later. Harry is very sensitive to crossing. I'd rather do it when he's not around. And if we'll go demon hunting we'll need weapons. When Harry wakes up I'll explain everything to him and send him to my apartment for weapons." Angela gave him a grateful smile.
"Why do you think it affects him?" she asked and looked at Harry's sleeping face.
"I don't know. I never heard of wizards being affected by crossing. He must be somehow connected to nature or maybe even have some suppressed power that makes him sensitive to it. Either way it hurts him." John said and Angela nodded.
"And that's why it's better he's gone for whatever we'll do?" John nodded.
"Yes. So go and get some rest. It'll be a bumpy ride."
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DAWWWWWWWWW!
He DOES care!