Disclaimer:Harry Potter and all recognizable items from it belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Brothers. Supernatural and all recognizable items from the show belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. Anything else that you don't recognize, and is original material, is all mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant additions to pop culture first.
Genre: Action/Romance/Drama/Suspense
Rating: MA (for a reason)
Warning: Will contain major SLASH themes. Canon-Compliant up until Book 6 of Harry Potter, and changes Supernatural to include Harry and that J.K. Rowling never published the Harry Potter series LOL. All lyrics at the beginning of chapters, as well as story titles, belong to their respective authors.
Summary: The war against Voldemort ends and Harry is victorious, but at what cost? Harry passes through the veil after Sirius ends up in a world without any Wizarding society. Harry starts his new life and attends university with Sam Winchester. Harry becomes an intricate part of the lives of the Winchester brothers before his secret is revealed.
Author's Note: I'm so sorry that it's taken so long to get this chapter out there. I did warn everyone that it might take a bit due to my finals. Regardless, I do apologize for my prolonged absence. It shall not happen again.
I'm not sure how many of you check my profile for information (I know I check author's profiles when I'm waiting for an update) but I usually try to keep information on updates there. For those of you who didn't see my message there, I realized that my original version of chapter 9 was going to be quite large (MASSIVE) and take forever to finish. In light of this information, I decided to split the chapter into two shorter chapters. This way it's easier to get through, the story is a little longer, and (most importantly) everyone gets a faster update!
Don't forget to check out the Author's Note at the end of the chapter for more information… and an exciting tidbit on the sequel :)
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
Also, WARNING for INTENSE VIOLENCE in this chapter.
You Leave the World Behind
Moriarty's Minion
Chapter 9:
"Do No Charm"
"I tried to break away, but I didn't stand a chance.
She planned it so well, I was under her spell; I was in a trance.
I call out her name, I turn around to find her; she's a spellbinder."
- Foreigner, Spellbinder
THEN…
Meg checked the shape shifters pulse and felt nothing. She smiled at her now deceased accomplice.
"You stupid fool," she commented mockingly. "I can't believe you thought you'd gotten one over on me after all these years. You were always going to have to take Harry's form. How else would I get the Winchesters to not chase after their little friend? After all, if they think he's dead, why would they look for him?"
Meg grabbed Harry's bag from the corner and hiked it over her shoulder. She channeled her father's power and set the room into a blaze before marching out of the door. She opened the trunk and tossed the duffel bag next to Harry's prone body. Just as she pulled out of the parking lot, an Impala rounded the other corner.
Meg smiled as she watched the Winchester brothers enter the motel parking lot in her rearview mirror, the flames distracting them.
They'd never know how close they came to saving their friend.
NOW…
Dean didn't speak to Sam the entire ride back to Bobby's. No music was played. Sam was barely able to get him to eat at any of the fast food places they stopped at.
Dean ignored the worried looks his younger brother continuously sent his way. Dean knew he should be concerned about how Sam was handling Harry's murder but he couldn't bring himself to push past his own grief. He hadn't even fought when Sam had ordered him to hand over the keys to the Impala. Dean had just held them out limply and climbed into the passenger seat.
All Dean could see were the flames dancing in front of his eyes, the flames that covered Harry's body in thick sheets. By the time they'd arrived back at the motel room Harry's body had already begun to turn black from the intense heat. The sound of approaching fire trucks and police sirens had forced them to flee with whatever was on them. Dean hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.
Now the image of Harry on fire was all he could see. Every memory of Harry that he held dear now ended in an all-consuming inferno. The memory of Harry's wet lips on his own now tasted only of ashes. The feeling of Harry's nimble fingers on his back as Dean entered him for the first time had turned from silky skin to brittle burns. Harry's warm breath tickling his skin as they cuddled at Bobby's was now hot enough to burn. All his memories were ruined now, and Harry was the only one who could make it better again.
"Is this what it was like for you, Sam?"
Sam nearly swerved into oncoming traffic he was so startled by Dean breaking the silence. He'd tried for days to get his brother to even mumble something, let alone speak a full sentence.
"What was what like, Dean?" Sam asked, gaining control of the car and himself.
"When you saw Jess," Dean whispered, his voice hoarse and crackly from using it so sparingly. "When that thing killed her."
Sam visible flinched, making Dean feel even guiltier for breaking his silence. Eventually Sam nodded.
"You were right, Sam, we are cursed."
Both brothers allowed the silence to fill the car again, each lost in the thoughts and memories of lost loves taken too early.
When Harry awoke he was facedown on a dusty stone floor. The stone tablets were cool against his face. His vision was blurred as if he'd been out all night drinking. In fact, the world's worst hangover would be the perfect way to describe the pain in his head upon waking. The metal chains clinging to his skin led him to believe he had not, in fact, been out drinking all night.
As soon as Harry sat up a bright light turned on above him. The light was nearly blinding but formed a perfect circle that spread illuminated a 10-foot area in every direction around him. What lay beyond the radius of the light remained in complete darkness, but Harry could hear someone shuffling about in the darkness.
"Hello?" he asked tentatively, keeping his voice low.
A pair of blood red leather high-heeled boots appeared at the edge of the circle. The owner stopped for a moment, presumably to study Harry, before entering the fully illuminated section of the room. Harry stared up at his captor, a young blonde woman in jeans and a tight t-shirt.
"Hello, Harry," the woman greeted before her eyes turned black. Harry resisted the urge to draw back in disgust.
"It would seem you have me at a disadvantage," Harry said smartly.
"In more ways than one," the woman chuckled, lifting up the metal chains that connected his wrists to the stone floor beneath them.
"I meant that I have no idea who you are," Harry continued, reaching out his right hand in greeting. "Obviously I'm Harry, and that makes you…"
The woman dropped the metal, letting the weight of the chains pull Harry's outstretched hand down with them. "You can call me Meg."
Something in Harry's brain clicked. He remembered Dean being annoyed by Sam's constant talking about some woman he met on the road named Meg. Harry wondered if this was the same woman that Sam had been so enchanted by.
"Dean and Sam will come for me," Harry informed her. "Or is that what you're counting on?"
Meg smirked. "Sadly, you've been misinformed. The dear Winchester offspring believe you to be dead. My condolences."
"They're smarter than that. They'll see through whatever you've rigged up."
"Even if we left behind a dead shifter that was in your form?" Meg teased. "You think they'll see through that?"
"Their smart guys, Meg," Harry snapped. "They'll know it's a possibility."
"Doubtful," Meg sighed, rolling her eyes. "Besides, if they do ever figure it out and manage to find us… well, we have enough fire power to take them out."
"Dean's gonna snap your neck, bitch, and I can't wait to see it happen."
Meg suddenly leaned forward and smashed her lips roughly against Harry's. When Harry didn't respond to the advance she bit down hard on his lip, drawing blood. When she finally pulled away from his bloodied lip, Harry could see the bloodstains on her teeth.
"Your know that you're kind of sick in the head, right?"
Meg smiled brightly. "You'll last longer than the others, I'm sure of it. Too bad for you."
"Last longer through what?" Harry asked.
"That's enough," commanded a stern voice from the shadows.
Meg obediently backed away from Harry. Harry turned to look his second captor in the eyes and found that they were bright yellow. Harry's body surged against his metallic bindings as hatred and vengeance pulsed through his veins.
"I'm going to kill you!" Harry screamed, lifting the chains enough to stand and move towards the demon that had killed one of his best friends. He made it almost five feet before the chain ran out of slack and he was harshly jerked back to the floor. For his part, Azazel merely shrugged as if the threat hardly mattered to him.
"That's a perfectly understandable reaction, Harry," Azazel responded, stepping into the room. Meg procured a chair from beyond the darkness of Harry's prison. Azazel sat almost regally in the cheap, worn out furniture.
From his slumped position on the floor Harry raised a hand and cast a slicing charm directly at Azazel's throat. Harry frowned in confusion when nothing happened to Azazel.
"Problem getting it up, Harry?" Meg taunted knowingly from beside Azazel.
"What have you done?" Harry demanded, already casting more curses at his captors. On his fifth banishing charm the metal around his wrist turned bright red as it burned him.
"It works," Azazel confirmed to Meg. "You may leave us."
Harry kept his teeth clenched as the hot metal scalded the skin of his wrist. He would not give these demons the satisfaction of his screams.
"What are these things?" Harry demanded once Meg had left the circle of light.
"The metal chains that keep you confined in this place have a very special history," Azazel explained, eyes resting reverently on Harry's bonds. "They are quite rare and took a number of lives to procure to place them on you today."
"I'm honored," Harry muttered sarcastically.
"They were created by Lucifer during the original uprising in Heaven," Azazel continued as if Harry hadn't spoken. "They were used to imprison Angels in the service of the Lord. You will find that they do not allow the prisoner the use of their non-human abilities against others. In fact, the more you attempt to use them against me the hotter the metal becomes. As I'm sure you've figured out by now."
"I won't tell you anything," Harry informed Azazel, trying not to reveal his panic at not being able to call upon his magic for help.
"I don't expect you to… at first," Azazel said in turn. "The demon that gave you such charming abilities would not have entrusted them to a servant unwilling to die in their devotion; especially not one that would break so quickly under torture. I imagine you will last a long time before giving in."
"I serve no demon."
"I don't suppose I could get you to turn to my cause now?" Azazel asked, before shaking his head. "There are a great many pleasures for serving me. Too many of the others have no respect for their human underlings."
"And you don't?" Harry inquired, disbelief evident in his voice.
"I have enough to employ them against one another," Azazel corrected. "I still believe that the best hope for either of our races is to work together. That's why I'm so interested in you, Harry. I've never before met a human able to contain so many demonic powers without the aid of demon blood. Even with my more potent blood coursing through a human's veins, they still can only hold one or two abilities without causing insanity or death."
"I'm honored," Harry snorted.
Azazel sprung from his seat and backhanded Harry hard across the cheek. The strength of the demon easily broke Harry's cheekbone. Harry spit out a mouthful of blood onto the stone tablet across from him.
"You should not be so petulant about your potential," Azazel barked angrily, "you may very well be the result I've been trying to orchestrate for the last century."
"Is that what this is about?" Harry asked, laughing through his pain. "You're worried some other demon succeeded where you failed?"
Azazel raised another hand to strike at Harry, but he managed to hold himself in check. Instead he caressed Harry's chest with the back of his knuckles in an oddly gentle fashion.
"You could have had such rewards if you'd just cooperated," Azazel said sadly. "Now we'll have to test you the hard way."
Harry grunted as his magic healed the broken cheekbone. Azazel's eyes were glued to the repairing facial injuries.
"Fascinating," he whispered into the darkness.
Harry shuddered at the look in the demon's eyes. Azazel stood and walked to the edge of the illuminated circle that defined Harry's prison.
"If you do manage to break free of your bonds, Harry, I feel it only fair to warn you that in the darkness beyond your prison are your jailors. You would do well not to meet them. They have a very nasty bite."
"I thought these bonds could hold anybody," Harry shot back at Azazel. "Suddenly I'm the exception?"
Azazel grinned evilly. "I think we'll test your endurance first… and that healing ability. I'd get some rest if I were you, Harry. You'll need it for Meg's test tomorrow."
Then Azazel evaporated into the darkness, leaving Harry alone to his thoughts and his pain.
Dean rolled over onto his stomach and automatically let his left arm stretch away from his body and onto the other side of the bed. He frowned into his pillow when all his grab earned him was a fistful of sheets.
Then he remembered. Harry wasn't sleeping next to him anymore.
For just a moment, in that special time between dreams and consciousness, Dean had managed to forget the ache in his stomach. Dean let his outstretched limb grab hold of Harry's pillow and dragged it to his side. Dean buried his head into Harry's pillow and inhaled deeply.
Dean smiled at the faint scent that could only belong to Harry. The smell was a sweet mixture of his lime and citrus conditioner, dusty books that Bobby had assigned Harry to study, and rain. Dean remembered fondly describing the scent to Harry, who in turn had informed him that Dean smelt of gunpowder and grass stains. This discovery had led to an interesting night of lovemaking that involved a great deal of nose to skin contact.
Dean hugged the pillow tighter at the memory of one of the last times he and Harry had ever had sex. Harry had been pure enthusiasm and spontaneity that night, freely groping and positioning the partners. Big Dean came alive at the memory of one of Harry's new "positions" discovered that night.
Dean let Big Dean trap himself between the pillow and the mattress. He kept his eyes closed, just letting himself smell the last of Harry's scent on the pillow. Dean continued his slow movements within the pillow until he felt a climax building.
"Harry…"
As it turned out, Meg hadn't waited until the next day to start her testing of Harry's healing abilities.
Within a few hours of Azazel's departure she had returned with a whole bag of items to torture Harry with. It didn't matter how many times Meg claimed the two of them were "just playing", Harry knew what torture was and there was zero doubt in his mind that he was being tortured. Harry could only pray that Azazel hadn't been so careless as to leave him alone with Meg in case she got carried away.
She had started off simply enough, seeming content to enjoy hitting his flesh with just her fists. The books Bobby had provided him on demons had covered the extra strength of a possessed human, but nothing close to Meg's strength. Even after she broke a rib, he still had the gnawing feeling that she was holding back for fear of killing him too early.
Harry's only had two hopes. He either had to hang on long enough for rescue to come or until Azazel's schedule progressed long enough that he needed Harry. Either way he just needed to buy himself as much time as possible. He needed to not break.
Meg seemed happily amused to finally have a victim that healed abnormally fast. She didn't even ask Harry any questions the first few days. Harry continued to let Azazel and Meg harbor the illusion that his powers were linked to a demon. There was no way he would ever reveal that he was a natural born Wizard… it could just be the key to his eventual escape.
Already he'd discovered a flaw in the celestial chains that imprisoned him. Azazel had told him that it prevented him from using his magic on others, but that didn't mean he couldn't use his magic on himself.
Once he figured out how this might help him escape he would only need to figure out how to get past the "jailors" as Azazel had called them. Harry was positive that, if Azazel weren't lying, than his jailors would be a supernatural monster of some kind. At the intervals when Meg wasn't beating the living shit out of him, he heard them moving in the shadows. He still wasn't sure what they were, but he'd figure it out.
Harry just needed to be patient and keep his wits. It was the only way he'd survive.
Meg broke another rib that night.
"It's been a week since you got back, Sam," Bobby pointed out gruffly from behind his newspaper.
Sam shifted uncomfortably from his position across the kitchen table. "You saw them together, Bobby. Dean's never had his heart broken before."
Bobby put the paper down. "I understand that, Sam. But Dean doesn't seem the type to light candles and mope around the house in memoriam. If anything, you'd think he'd be off hunting down that fucking shifter."
"I know," Sam said, nodding in agreement. "But if he needs to do this first than he's not going to get any lip from me about it… or you, Bobby."
"You seem to be handling things, okay."
Sam glared at Bobby. "Harry was my best friend, Bobby. We were just as close as Dean is to me. I loved him like a brother. I am not handling this okay."
"I get it, boy, you gotta be strong for your brother. I ain't knocking it, Sam," Bobby said sternly.
"He was there for me after Jess," Sam replied, "so I can be there for him now."
They were interrupted by the sound of boots on the stairway. Both men looked at each other hopefully before rushing out of the kitchen and into the main hallway. There on the steps, paused at their sudden appearance, was a pale-looking Dean. He was completely dressed, showered, and had a shovel in one hand.
"Going somewhere?" Sam asked cautiously, not wanting to scare Dean back into his room for another week of self-imposed solitary confinement.
Dean nodded. "Harry needs to be buried."
Sam and Bobby shared an uneasy look.
"Boy, you know there ain't nothing left of Potter to bury… right?" Bobby asked without tact.
Dean turned a hard glare on him. "Do I look mentally damaged in some way, Bobby? No? Then, of course, I know there isn't a body to bury."
Dean took out a shoebox he'd been keeping behind him. Dean popped open the top and let the pair look inside. Sam recognized it as a bunch of little knick-knacks from Harry's room.
"You wanna bury this stuff?" Sam asked, making sure they were on the same page. Dean nodded, challenging his brother to stop him.
Dean should have known better than to think his brother wouldn't back him 100%.
"Can we come to the funeral, too?"
Dean found the strength to let his stony-expression falter long enough to grace the two men with a short smile. He nodded his head and led the way into Bobby's junkyard, Bobby and Sam trailing respectfully behind.
It didn't take long for them to find a nice spot for the "casket". Bobby really only had one living tree beyond the junkyard that had a small wooden bench beneath it. Dean decided not to tell the other two men that this had been one of Harry and his favorite outdoor locations to do the deed. It did bring a smile to his face as he thought of their reaction upon hearing the news.
Sam helped Dean dig a nice sized hole. It didn't take as long as it would of had they been burying a full-sized coffin the necessary six feet deep. The brothers worked well together having spent their youth unearthing the coffins of spirits that had decided to wreak havoc instead of resting peacefully.
Dean noticed Bobby stand quickly from where he had been resting comfortably on the bench beneath the tree. Dean tapped Sam on the shoulder to alert him that something was off. It was Sam that noticed the approaching figure first.
From the maze junkyard equipment a medium sized figure was slowly approaching. The man was wearing a long jacket and a hat. The rest of the clothes, a button down and slacks, were clean. Dean almost didn't recognize who it was at first.
"Dad?" he asked, frozen to the spot. John Winchester climbed the small hill that led to the impromptu burial spot.
"Hello, Boys," John greeted rather formally, nodding to them. "Thanks for inviting me, Bobby."
Dean and Sam sent Bobby identically betrayed looks. Bobby held up his hands defensively.
"I know I should have told you I could contact him," he defended, "but it wasn't my place. I didn't think you'd mind him coming to this, though."
"Just happened to be in the area?" Sam asked his father, accusation lining his words.
John hung his head. "I'm not here to fight, Sammy. I'm here for Dean and you. I'm sorry about your… friend."
Both Dean and Sam noticed how he stumbled over the description of Harry. Dean sent an angry look Bobby's way.
"You told him about Harry and me?"
"No," Bobby said, jumping in before his sons could rip into Bobby. "Harry told me."
"Harry told you?" Sam asked incredulously. "When did you talk to him?"
"I was here just before he left to join you in California," John explained. "I came to interview him since he survived the demon's attack."
"So, what, you come to the funeral of the guy you met for all of two seconds but not to my fiancée's?" Sam asked, his hurt overcoming his ability to keep his words to himself.
Dean put a restraining hand on his younger brother's arm.
"We can settle those issues later, Sammy," Dean said firmly, allowing no debate on the issue. Everyone grew quiet at his words. Dean had been the peacekeeper in his family before, but this was different. Dean wasn't just diffusing an argument, he was here to pay respects to someone he cared for. It was their job to shut the hell up and be there for him, for once.
The four hunters gathered around the small gravesite. Dean took up a position at the top of the grave and Sam settled across from him. Bobby and John stood on either side of Dean.
"We're here today to remember Harry Potter," Dean said, beginning the ceremony. Sam kept eye contact with his elder brother throughout the eulogy. Dean, never a good public speaker or expresser of feelings, stumbled through the speech but drew strength from Sam standing across from him.
When Dean was done, Sam said a few words about the closest thing to a brother he'd during Stanford. Bobby shared a few thoughts on the potential Harry had and his amazing cooking skills. John gave the same prayer he said at Mary's funeral all those years ago which almost brought Dean to tears.
Sam, Bobby, and John left Dean to close the hole and for a private moment with Harry. Once they were out of sight, Sam felt John's hand close on his shoulder. Bobby continued on past them towards the house, allowing father and son a private moment to air their feelings.
Sam turned to face his father. "What?"
John sighed. "I wanted to make it to your girl's funeral, Sam, but I had a good lead on the demon."
"Obviously not good enough if he's still out there killing my friends," Sam snapped at him.
"No, but it did lead me to something that could change our position in this game, Sam."
"Is that why you're here?" Sam demanded. "You don't give a shit about what Dean and I are going through right now, do you? You're just here to recruit us back into hunting with you!"
"I've been there, Sam," John said sternly, but not denying the accusation. "I lost your mother, you lost Jessica, and now Dean's lost his… boyfriend. We've all got stock in this now, more so than when it was just your mother."
Sam stormed away angrily.
"I've got something that can finally change it all, Sammy!" John called after him, following quickly. "We've got a shot to kill the fucker once and for all."
"Oh, yeah, how?"
John leaned in closer to his youngest son. "You ever hear of Samuel Colt?"
"He's the gun guy, yeah?" Dean asked, joining them in the junkyard.
Sam eyed him carefully. "You okay?"
Dean sent him a grateful smile and a nod.
"He was a hunter, too, though not everyone knows that," John continued as if unsurprised by Dean's sudden appearance.
"So?"
"So he made a gun that can kill a demon, Dean," John explained slowly. "As in utterly destroyed, no chance of a return trip from Hell, do not pass go, do not collect $200."
Dean saw the disbelief in Sam's eyes, but he also spotted the hope there. He knew that once John showed his younger sibling some historical proof that Sam would be on board. Dean felt the last vestiges of grief fading away, and in its place the growing need for revenge. Dean wanted to kill every last supernatural thing between him and his grave.
"So what are we waiting for?" he asked.
John grinned at him.
Harry estimated that another week had passed. He could also see that Meg was quickly tiring of merely using her physical strength to abuse him. More and more her eyes trailed longingly to the bag of tricks she had brought to the room during their first torture session.
As it turned out, it was Azazel that was keeping her restrained. He returned at the end of the week and asked Harry two simple questions.
"Whom do you serve?" Azazel had inquired.
"I serve no demon," Harry responded limply, his throat dry from dehydration.
"Are you ready to serve me?" Azazel then asked. Harry spat in his face.
Azazel wiped the spittle from his face, and nodded to Meg. Meg clapped in excitement and reached into her bag of tricks. Harry inhaled at the sight of a long leather whip being pulled from the bag.
"I've made other demons cry, Harry. Do you really think you can hold out longer than a demon?" Meg asked, sounding honestly curious about his answer.
Harry offered up a mediocre glare but said nothing, choosing instead to remain silent and gather his strength. He would show as little weakness as possible in front of the sadist demon in front of him.
"No commentary, eh? We'll see how long you can stay silent before I'm done with you. I have all the time in the world, Harry. And thanks to that healing ability of yours, we can both keep this up for a good while."
Meg moved behind him and Harry tensed himself. A single cold finger caressed the small hairs at his neck. Then there was a whistling sound in the air and the whip sliced into his skin. Harry gasped once before biting down hard on his tongue. A second slash was added to the one already on his back, then another.
"Does it hurt, Harry?" Meg asked from behind. He felt her licking the tip of one of his wounds. Harry suddenly had a thought and sent an electric shock through his body. Even though he was shocked as well, he took great pleasure in the startled surprise of Meg's tongue connecting her to the treatment.
Meg cursed and raised the whip angrily. There would be no forgiveness for his actions. Meg would punish him brutally for his one moment of defiance.
Harry managed to shut his eyes before the whip cut again into his skin. The blows were coming harder than ever now, breaking skin with every swing of the leather. Harry felt the small rivulets of blood running down his back.
Again and again Meg cut into him, only seeming to be angered by the sight of healing skin. As time continued to pass, she seemed determined to make the cuts reappear again and again. Each continued effort, sapping away at Harry's ability to effectively heal him.
At one point tears of pain welled up in Harry's eyes. He did his best to ensure they did not fall, but some escaped him. He thought of Dean making love to him and the tears stopped.
When the first gasp of pain broke through his lips, he thought of joking with Sam. He thought of the pranks he and Jessica had played on their roommate.
When Meg moved to whip his front, he thought of the rescue the brothers were surely planning. His first dry scream was kept at bay by imagining just how much he was going to enjoy killing Meg and Azazel.
The whip continued to fly and his skin continued to be shredded.
The Winchester Family had always had a reputation for being skilled hunters. However, years had passed since they had last hunted together. Dean may have been in his late teens but Sam had left for college. At that time John had been forced to carry the bulk of the hunting burden.
However, both Winchester brothers were grown men now and more than capable of taking care of their hunting responsibilities. Between the three of them, they were slaughtering the supernatural left and right. Ghosts, Poltergeists, Demons, Witches, and one very unfortunate Shifter had met their fate at the hands of the hunting family.
The past days had been a bloodbath between the Winchesters and a thought to be extinct vampire clan. John had taken their hunt for The Colt straight to the vampires they thought responsible for killing its previous keeper.
It had been a close call but Dean now held The Colt cradled lovingly in his hands.
As Dean drifted off to sleep, he repeated the mantra that had been his driving force in his hunts the past few weeks…
"All for you, Harry…"
Harry always waited for Meg to slip up. Sometimes it would take days of patient compliance before she would make a mistake. They were never too large of a mistake for him to try an escape, but they were enough to enact a little revenge.
Today, for example, Meg had strayed a little too close to him. The moment she did, he smashed his forehead against her right temple. Meg staggered away in shocked pain.
"I didn't think you had that much defiance left."
Harry merely smirked at her in response, his proud grin saying it all for him.
"Why would you do something so foolish? You must know I have to punish such behavior?"
Harry's arm hung helplessly at his sides, too drained of energy to block further physical blows. He had lost all track of time. He had given up of every being rescued.
There was no escape from this madwoman.
"What difference does it make? You are going to hurt me anyway. I can't imagine what further harm you could do to me."
Meg's lip curled upwards into a nasty sneer. "Oh, my sweet Harry, then you have a very limited imagination."
Harry felt her grab the tongue of his belt and yank the buckle open. Meg gritted her teeth into a dazzling and yet ferocious smile. "It's time we found some new places on you to hurt. It's time to see what you are really made of."
The frenzied look in her eyes made Harry's blood run cold.
"Tonight," Meg whispered lovingly into his ears, "neither of us will be getting any sleep."
Meg charged into Azazel's chambers.
"We have a problem, father."
Azazel glanced at her thoughtfully. "The boy?"
Meg shook her head. "No, father, my sources tell me the Winchesters have found The Colt."
"The Colt?" he echoed in disbelief. "John Winchester is indeed a formidable enemy."
"We have to get it back," Meg said immediately.
"Obviously," Azazel said condescendingly. "What do you have in mind?"
"I was going to suggest hunting down their little hunter friends one by one until they gave in, but…"
"But?" Azazel prompted her to continue.
"I think I have a different idea," she said, grinning wickedly. "Something that will be much more efficient."
"You don't think the boy will break?" he asked.
"I can break him," Meg said defensively. "I just might not be able to do it in time."
"In which case he'll be useless to us," Azazel concluded.
Meg glanced down the hallway where Harry was being kept.
Azazel followed her eyes towards Harry's torture chamber. "Get your brother to do it."
Meg scowled but nodded her acceptance of her father's mission.
Harry didn't even bother trying to cover his surprise when Meg brought someone else with her to the next torture session. Azazel had yet to make a return appearance since his first offer to serve him.
"Another torture master?" Harry asked warily, too tired to try to annoy the pair.
"I'd like you to meet someone, Harry," Meg said excitedly. "This is my brother."
Harry just glared at the man. In another situation, Harry would have thought the man was attractive. He had long dark curls and thick cheekbones. His sense of fashion was much stronger than Meg's. His entire demeanor screamed "ruthless killer".
"So this is him, huh?" Meg's apparently nameless brother asked his sister. "Doesn't look like much."
"You think Father would provide you with a body that didn't offer significant advances compared to your current one?" she asked pointedly.
Harry frowned at her words. Provide you with a body?
Meg's brother picked up Harry's chin and surveyed him. "I suppose he'll do."
"I'll do for what?" Harry asked warily.
Meg's brother clamped his mouth over Harry's. At first Harry thought the man was brought in to torture Harry with poor kissing, but then he felt the push of something strange at his mouth. Meg clamped a hand over his nose, suffocating Harry until he had no choice but to open his mouth.
It was at that moment, when the demon's dark presence was being forced into his throat, that he realized what was happening to him.
Harry was about to become a meat suit for Meg's brother.
Author's Notes: As promised, here is a bit of exciting news about the sequel. In the reviews and PM's I received, people seemed to be pretty psyched about the sequel so I thought I'd give some more information on it. Basically it will pick up where the epilogue leaves off and carry us into new and uncharted territory. The sequel will be titled When The Lightning Strikes from the Aerosmith song.
I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter! The next chapter, "Bait Is Such A Strong Word", will be up in a matter of days. That's my approximate goal for writing, editing, and releasing chapters while over winter break. If I can keep that pace going then "You Leave The World Behind" will be all done by the time I go back to school mid-January.
Finally, you guys are THE BEST at reviewing! I think there was just shy of 100 reviews for last chapter. Honestly, if I didn't have your support I wouldn't have been able to get even half as far as I have already. I wish there was more I could do to show my gratitude for sticking with me through this besides saying THANKS!
…and don't forget to leave another one of those fantastic REVIEWS!!!