Legal Disclaimer: I own my stuff, but not the original source material. That belongs to whoever. Also, the opinions and interpretations I use here may not reflect the same in said whoever that owns the source material. Look, I'm just a poor college librarian. Suing me isn't going to get you anything but tears.
Warning: This work may be offensive to some readers. There is also references to canon child abuse. Feel free to back out if need be.
Author's Note: Yep. I'm starting a new collection just for crossing over SPN & HPverse. Because I realized that I didn't have one already. Also, yes, I reused Castiel's retail persona. What can I say? It's a pretty name.
Submitting Info:
Stacked with: Quidditch League (Season 10); Ministry (Spring Year 1); RAVEN (2023); MC4A (Sp Y6)
Individual Challenges: Pie Day (Y); Quaffles (Y); Xs & Os; Celestial MC; Celestial MC (Y); Hunter MC; Old Shoes; Sandbox (Y); Crossing Over; Reader (Y); Cinematic (Y); Binger (Y); Animated (Y); Gamer (Y); Small Fry (Y); Dreamers (Y); Elder Berries (Y) (x2); Ethnic & Present; Rian-Russo Inversion; Rowl in Her Grave; Neurodivergent; Short Jog; Bucket Listing; Eating Cake (Y); Exchange (Y); Greatest Gift (Y); Two Cakes (Y); Crack Addict; Fuzzy Socks; Bi Bi Bi; Booger Breath; Claimed; Feeding; Hotel Home; Bedtime; Outer; Zed Era; Rainbow Connection; Finders; Gender Bender; Hold the Mayo
Team (Position): Wigtown Wanderers (Seeker)
Round (Prompt): Round 10-04 (n/a)
Other QL Challenges: Part of Another World [05] (Passionate Feeling about Pink)
Ministry Challenges: Portkey Office [Tier 1] (Non-HP fandom) OR Misinformation Office [Tier 1] (Trio Era)
RAVEN Challenges: Settings [21](Car); Items [119](Steak Knife); Colors [91](Marigold)
Other MC4A Challenges: SpB [5B](Rabbit/Hare); TrB [5E](Homecoming); Ship (Mixtape)[SpBig (Pie/Tart; Rain); SpMic1 (Fusion/Crossover); SpMic2 (Green; Pink); 5A (Terrible Ex)]; Chim [Ivy]("God Help the Outcasts" – Hunchback of Notre; Outside; Race Bend); Hunt [Sp Items (Knife/Dagger); Sp Con (Onion Rings); Sp WD (Nonbinary)]
Representation(s): Desi Harry Potter & Dean Winchester; Castiel & Gabriel; Questionably Colored Diners; Genderless Angels; BC Use
Primary & Secondary Bonus Challenges: Persistence Still; Odd Feathers; Pocky Pockets; Wabi Sabi; Demo 1 (Found Family; Spinning Plates; Unwanted Advice; Trickster's Union; Lovely Coconuts; Grease Monkey; Civil Disobedience; Muck & Slime; Queen Bee; Horrible Love); Demo 2 (Fizzy Lemonade; Unicorn; Creature Feature; Toto's Tribute; Misshapen Pods; Machismo; Tomorrow's Shade; Hot Stuff)
Tertiary & Generic Bonus Challenges: T3 (Toad); Once (Moses Supposes; Santa Fe; Inchworm)
Word Count: 3435 words
(^^)
In the Middle of Nowhere
(^^)
Dean had been driving along the rural country road for hours. The headlights of the Impala barely illuminated the dark and dreary landscape in front of him. The rain sparkled like falling stars as the droplets reflected the headlights. Dean tried not to think about how it reminded him of watching fireworks in an empty field with Sammy. The weather was treacherous enough that he couldn't afford the distraction, especially since it had been at least a few hours since he had seen any kind of civilization.
He wasn't headed anywhere specific except away from where he had been. At least, he wasn't headed anywhere that he was willing to admit to. Ever since Dad had started sending him out on his own more often than not, Dean had tried to meander through Palo Alto at least once every couple of months. Sammy had only seen him once, and after the scathing voice mail that had resulted, Dean was more careful about not being spotted.
Suddenly, something caught his eye, something small and dark walking along the side of the road. Dean slammed on his brakes, bringing his car to a screeching halt with only a small amount of fishtailing. He squinted through the thick rain and saw the figure turning to face the Impala. Dean frowned as he puzzled out what he was seeing lit up in the car's headlights.
For all intents and purposes, it looked like a little boy, no more than four years old if on the scarily small side of the growth chart. He had dark hair that the rain had flattened against his head. The dark brown of his skin nearly matched the color of thin coat he wore. Long habit from keeping Sammy in weather appropriate clothing noted that the coat was no match for the November chill, let along with the rain on top of it. It might have been Dean's imagination, but he thought he could see the boy's small frame quivered with the cold.
Dean couldn't just leave the kid, no matter how much more likely it was that the kid wasn't human. His father might have a thing or two to say about what Dean was about to do, but he wasn't here, just like he hadn't been there so many other times during his childhood. Dean jumped out of the Impala and approached the boy with quick steps. The boy tensed as Dean came closer but didn't run or lash out in any way. Dean raised his hands in the air to show that he didn't have a weapon in either of them.
"Are you lost?" Dean asked. The kid chewed on his bottom lip a few times before glancing over his shoulder at the direction that he had been walking. Turning back towards Dean, he gave a hesitant nod. Dean dared to come a few steps closer. "Want a ride? At least to the next town?"
There was less hesitation to the nod that time. Dean gestured for the boy to come to him. It took no effort to guide the kid to the still-open driver's door and only slightly more to encourage the kid to climb into the front bench seat. The kid huddled at the other end of the seat. He was shivering as much as he was dripping.
And the kid still hadn't said a word.
Dean slid off his leather jacket and draped it over the small boy. The kid looked surprised at the action but quickly curled into a tight ball beneath the additional layer. Dean fiddled with the heater before driving off again. He did turn down the music that had been playing when he had spotted the boy.
"Before we get too far," Dean said after a few moments of riding in silence, "should we be looking around here for your parents? Maybe at a camp site or, I don't know, farm?"
"They're dead," the boy whispered like he was afraid to speak any louder. Even with just the two words, Dean picked up on the British accent coloring the boy's flat tone. His green eyes were big as they watched Dean over the collar of his coat. "Aunt Petunia says they crashed because they were trying to drink away my existence."
"That is," Dean started only to stop in order to choke down the words he had wanted to say because most of them were cuss words that no child should be exposed to. Even Dad wasn't as cruel with his drunken rambling, and Dad could get downright mean when he had been drinking. "That's a mean thing for her to tell ya. But let's revise the question: should we be looking around here for your aunt?"
"They drove off," the kid answered, as if he had no idea that the words hit Dean like a punch to the gut. "Uncle Vernon said that this was a new start for them, and it didn't include me. If I was lucky, a pack of wild dogs would eat me."
Considering that Dean had cleared out a pack of werewolves just a couple towns back, something like that happening was more likely than this Vernon guy probably realized. Again, Dean was struck by the cruelty in the words. The kid sounded like he was reciting the words, almost painfully similar to how Dean had used to quote things when he had started talking again. Something in how the kid watched him also reminded Dean of how he was before Sammy got big enough that Dad had started insisting Dean set a more normal example of how to act.
"You got a name, kid?" Dean asked instead of commenting on what the kid had said. The kid tilted his head to the side like he had to think about it. Realizing that he hadn't offered one for himself, he rushed on to fix that. "Mine's Dean, Dean Winchester."
"Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon just called me 'boy'," he said after a long moment, "but the little book they got for the plane said 'Haridard Potter' by my picture."
He ducked slightly, like he expected Dean to lash out at what he said. Dean was getting the feeling that his aunt and uncle had done a lot of questionable things before they had dumped the kid by the side of the road. Supernatural creatures at least made sense when they did monstrous things. Humans were just all kinds of fucked up.
"Well, Harry," Dean said, "I don't think we're gonna catch up with your relatives. I, uh, I don't think we're gonna even try hard, if you don't mind."
"Are we going to find a pack of wild dogs?" Harry asked, sounding resigned to his fate. Only practice kept Dean from jerking the steering wheel at the idea that he would just kick the boy back out into the rainy night for the same thing that his uncle had told him.
"Actually, I figured we could travel together," Dean corrected, struggling not to snap out the words when his flare of temper was against the kid. Already, he was thinking of changing directions from his meandering path south and west towards Palo Alto and heading easterly towards Sioux Falls. If he was going to be raising a kid, Bobby's support was going to be vital.
But there were certain things that had to be handled first, and as soon as possible. Dean didn't know how long Harry might have been out in the storm or alone in general, but he knew that it had been a good three hours since he had seen any sign of civilization. Which meant that if Harry's relatives had been traveling in the same direction, it would be the same travel time. In turn, that meant that it had been at least that long since Harry had eaten anything.
So first order of business would be finding somewhere to eat, preferably near enough to somewhere to sleep that he could get the kid properly warmed up. If he had learned anything about kids from dealing with Sammy, it was that most children were bottomless pits who could put ghouls to shame with their appetites. Harry looked particularly stick-like, so he was probably extra hungry.
After another hour of driving through the rain, Dean finally spotted the signage for a motel with a small diner attached. By that point, Harry had been dozing in his little ball. His dark hair had dried enough to take on the first hints of springy curls. No doubt they would be even harder to take care of than Sammy's had been.
As Dean pulled into the parking lot near the diner part, the change in their speed made the boy begin to wake. Under the new amount of light Dean noticed that there was a jagged scar in the middle of Harry's forehead. It shone like silvery pale lightning against the brown of his skin. That was as distinctive a feature as Harry's eyes were.
Of course, Harry's eyes being green worked in their favor. Green eyes weren't something a lot of people had. The fact that Dean had them as well would give credibility to a claim that Harry was his son. It was the easiest story to spin. The biggest hurdle was their different races, and even that was easily explained as Harry's mother having been Indian. Families were mixed all the time, even before taking into consideration any step situations.
Honestly, Dean had been with women of enough ethnicities to have a kid of mixed race out there. Pretending to have one wasn't even that much of a stretch. Trying to explain a kid to people who actually knew him would really be a roller coaster of fun. Bobby would probably be fine; Dad would be an entirely different bucket of fish.
"I'm thinking of carrying you in," Dean announced as he parked the Impala. Harry blinked at him, clearly not quite awake enough to have an opinion. So Dean got out and quickly rounded Baby to open the passenger side door. Harry barely weighed anything in his arms. He also seemed to melt into Dean's chest as if the simple hold was the best thing ever.
The cheery bell that announced their entrance did nothing to make the interior of the place any more fit for humanity. The walls were the exact shade of bright pink that Pepto Bismol was. As if that was not enough to put people off their food, the seating was all lime green vinal. Shiny chrome edging around the counter and table ends reflected both horribly bright colors. Dean had seen packs of highlighters with less neon.
"Yeah, it's bad," agreed the waiter as he came out of the swinging door that led to the kitchen. He was wearing a marigold yellow uniform with a frilly white apron to cover the front of his knee-length skirt. He had white running shoes on his feet that lit up with every step. "Counter or booth?"
"Booth, if it ain't too much trouble," Dean answered.
The waiter nodded and grabbed two menus (which were edged in tangerine orange but thankfully an off-white otherwise) before showing them to a corner booth. Dean had to swallow a couple of times as he followed, because the guy (his name tag said Steve, even if that name didn't seem to fit him) was hitting a lot of what Dean found attractive in guys. Not to mention that Steve had come close enough that Dean caught the scent of apricot body lotion wafting off his skin. Dean shook his head to clear his thoughts and forced himself to focus on getting Harry settled into one side of the booth.
"So, the kid-friendly options are in the back," Steve said as he set the menus down. He tilted his head to the side consideringly when Harry immediately turned to the back to read the options. Dean gave Steve a smile that he hoped didn't look as uncertain as he felt. He had suspected that Harry could read, despite his age, but he had no clue how well and was hoping that Steve wouldn't ask. "See anything you like, honeybee?"
Harry startled at the question and looked up from the menu. He blinked owlishly at Steve. (Dean made a mental note to get the kid's eyes checked once they got settled somewhere.) Harry quickly closed his menu and put his hands beneath the table as he shook his head rapidly. Dean resisted the urge to sigh even as he could guess where Harry's reluctance was coming from.
"He'll have the chicken tenders," Dean answered after a quick look over the menu section in question. "For sides, he'll have tater tots and, um—"
"The veggie dippers are fresher than the mac and cheese at the moment," Steve interrupted smoothly when Dean started to flounder. "I was doing the prep when you arrived while this batch of mac and cheese is left over from the dinner rush a few hours ago."
"You have a rush?" Dean asked before he could stop himself. "Here?"
"Trust me," Steve replied dryly. "I'm just as surprised as you are. Not only are we a good half hour out of the nearest town, but I keep telling Gabriel that it looks like a highlighter pack exploded in here, but he thinks that's a compliment."
"Does he also think the Pepto Bismol look is soothing?"
"Enough that he has travel-size bottles available for sell by the register."
"That's smart," Dean said.
"I will be sure to pass that along to my brother." Steve held up his notepad and pen. "So, tenders, veggies, and tots for the little one." Steve tapped his chapped lips with the foam bee on the top of his pen before writing something else down. Then he turned his blue, blue eyes towards Dean. "And what is Daddy having?"
Dean's mind went completely blank. He had forgotten every single food he had ever eaten in his entire life. He wasn't even certain that he even knew what food was. All he could think about was if the waiter would be willing to call him that word in an entirely different context.
Harry shoved his menu against Dean's hard enough to knock it into his chest.
"Bacon cheeseburger with onion rings," Dean blurted out, thankful that it wasn't something inappropriate for the child who was present. Speaking of child being present, he decided to try to set a good example. "And those veggie dippers sound awesome. I'll have some myself."
"And to drink?" Steve asked, his eyes twinkling like he knew where Dean's mind had gone. Keeping in mind that Harry was watching as well as the late hour, Dean decided on lemonade for both of them over soda or coffee. Steve wrote it down and sashayed his way back to the kitchen.
It takes less than ten minutes for Steve to come back with a tray of food. In addition to the items that Dean had ordered, there was two slices of blueberry pie and a glass of something brightly purple. Steve sets the strange concoction in front of Harry and smiles at the boy's obvious surprise at being given a treat that was just his.
"Purple milkshake," Steve said, as he tucked his serving tray against his waist. "A house specialty that's popular, and all natural, if you'd believe it."
"It's very purple," Dean said just as cautiously as Harry was poking the surface of the drink. Dean pulled Harry's place close enough that he could use the steak knife that came with his own burger to cut the tenders into bite-size pieces. Steve gave a huffy laugh.
"Better than what the strawberry shake ends up looking like. It's almost the same shade as the walls."
"That sounds horrifying."
"It truly is," Steve agreed. As if sharing the thought, both of them gave full body shudders. Then a low whine drew their attention back to Harry who had his eyes scrunched shut. His hands were clutching his head hard enough that his knuckles were a brownish-gray from the pressure. In front of him, the milkshake was already half gone. "Oh, honeybee. Did you give yourself a brain freeze?"
"Hey, if you rub your tongue against the roof of your mouth, it helps," Dean instructed. Harry cracked open one eye in obvious assessment of how truthful Dean was being. "Yeah, I know it sounds weird, but it works."
The kid's face contorted as he struggled to follow the suggestion. Dean was having a hard time not cooing at how adorable it was. Steve didn't seem to have the same desire to not because he was doing nothing to hide how he felt about the way Harry was twisting his face. Dean nudged Harry's plate.
"Warm food helps, too."
Honestly, Dean was just happy that the kid was eating. He was sure that the anxiety Harry had displayed about ordering food would rear its ugly head again, but at least for now, he seemed to be devouring his food. Dean tucked into his own food, knowing from experience with Sammy that kids got antsy if they had to wait on someone else to finish eating once they were done. Worst case scenario, Dean could have Steve put any leftovers in a to-go box.
All too soon the little boy's eyes began to droop, and Dean realized he had been up for far too long. He waved over Steve for the bill. Steve just winked and waved away Dean's attempt to pay the bill. Dean frowned at the gesture.
"Perks of being related to the owner," Steve explained as he bagged up their boxed pie and what was left of the veggies. "Also, it's an apology in advance for Gabriel. You'll meet him when you check into the motel."
Dean looked around the very pink décor and figured that the apology might be for more than just the mysterious man's attitude. Clearly, this Gabriel was either colorblind or still living in the late sixties or early seventies. Though, the idea of being on a permanent acid trip shouldn't be dismissed quite yet.
Gabriel was not as bad as Dean had been expecting from Steve's warning. The short man wouldn't have been out of place in a porn video, especially one shot in the seventies. He had given the sucker in his mouth a suggestive lick when Dean had entered the office. Then his gaze had dropped to the small boy who was half-asleep in Dean's arms. His hazel eyes had widened briefly.
After that, he had been nothing but warmly professional. He did produce a stuffed rabbit the same shade of pink as the diner's walls. Dean would have said something about the atrocious color but Harry had already looked like he couldn't believe that he had been given the toy at all. He didn't have the heart to risk the kid rejecting it because of something that Dean had said.
Dean carried the little boy up the stairs to their rented room, his heart heavy with worry in the way that was normally reserved for Sammy. What was he going to do with this little boy? He couldn't turn him over to the authorities. Their first step would be to seek out the asshole relatives who had dumped the kid by the side of the road in the first place, and it didn't seem like there was anyone else who would be looking for him. The system was not kind to kids with no one to advocate for them. It would be just another abandonment.
He had no choice but to bring the little boy home and take care of him until he found someone who might be more suitable. He couldn't continue hunting, not unless he wanted to become his father. He might love his dad, but there was still plenty that he wouldn't emulate with his own kid. And that was what Harry was now, wasn't he? He was Dean's kid, even if it was only temporary.
Dean settled the boy into a bed farthest from the door and tucked him in, watching him drift off to sleep. He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through the little boy's hair, wondering what had happened to him. Why would his relatives pick the middle of nowhere to leave him? Why now of all times? Dean had no idea what he had gotten himself into, but he knew one thing: he was determined to protect Harry no matter what.
