Disclaimer: I do not own neither Harry Potter nor Supernatural.

Episode used: season 5 episode 5: "Fallen Idols".

Warnings: None... I think.


Idyllic Nightmare

They hit the road and the tension finally left his shoulders at the familiar feeling of the Impala's wheel beneath his hands, his back resting on her leather, the open road at his front and The Doors playing softly out of her speakers. Harry was sleeping in the passenger side and he couldn't keep his eyes from sliding from the road to his peaceful form, just to be sure, he thinks, no he was not creepy. He was allowed this sort of behavior after the weekend he's had but Harry was well and good and with him and nothing will ever harm him as long as he was with him. He knows it's a foolish thought cause' he'll probably be more hurt if he stays with them Winchesters but he just wants to be selfish for once in his life, just once.

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Harry was still rather confused and secretly pleased by the desperate hug Dean gave him when the dirty blonde hunter woke him up but he filed it away to think about later on. After all the other man seemed rather rushed and tense so he won't keep him waiting. Packing all his stuff as fast as he could, he went to the parking lot and stopped at the sight that he met there: Dean was stroking and whispering reverently to his car like it was some sort of pet. He let him have his moment but decided to stop him before he got hard at the strangely arousing scene.

"Do you want me to go so that I can let you have your moment with your car mate?" He asked amused, and the jade-eyed man startled, turning quickly around, scratching the back of his head embarrassed.

"Yes, I mean, no, I, just get in for god's sake!"

"Okay, okay, just tell me and-

"Shut up!"

He lifted his hands in the air innocently, glad that he got his revenge from his own personal car moment the other day.

"Alright, alright, getting in."

"That's right."

He woke up at the sound of the Impala parking, looking out the window; he only saw a dirty road and green fields. He shifted his gaze to Dean in question just to see him clenching the wheel tightly, the other's eyes firmly locked on the trees outside the car.

"Dean?" He softly asked so as not to disturb the anxious man. The other swiveled his head to look at him and he meant really look at him, searching his face with a concentration that made him fidget uncomfortably in his seat. He must have come to a decision because he calmed slightly and return his stare to the front window, passing his hand slowly in front of his mouth.

"Listen, there's something you should know about my brother-

"Dean you don't-

"Yes, I do, okay, I do, just let me finish." The man announced in a voice between a plea and an order that shut him up real fast, looking at him from the corner of his eyes waiting for him to nod. He nodded. "There's something, hell, several things you should know about my brother and I. Last year was -God this is hard- last year was a difficult year for us and by our standards what I really mean is: it was hell. We discovered some terrible evil master plan and we hunted the demon bitch behind it for the whole year until my brother got her but… The thing is… her death was the last piece she needed…"He trailed off, lost in memories.

"What was the plan Dean?" He asked fearfully.

"The Apocalypse." Dean answered after a beat of heavy silence looking down at his lap.

What? He can't- Merlin, he's serious. He wanted to ask a million questions, how? When? How did Dean let that happen? What was the angels' role in all this, the demons'? But somehow one question made past his lips.

"What are your roles in this war? Because this is a war isn't it?" He found solid ground though, war he could do, he could help and if it was the Apocalypse, even if it wasn't his world, he will make damn sure he's not put on the sidelines. He won't sit on his ass drinking tea while the world goes down the drain, not if he could help it.

And he could.

Dean snorted, apparently finding some twisted amusement in his question. "Right for the jugular, huh Harry?" he said glancing at him and probably catching his most serious look so far since Dean met him, he sobered. "Well, you see angels need vessels, meat-suits, kinda like demons, to be on earth but the difference is they need the vessel's approval to be able to wear them so to speak. My brother and I, we're the vessels for Lucifer and Michael respectively."

He gasped, his breath caught in his throat because he knew enough about the Christian religion from his aunt and he knew those names. The Archangels. And Sam and De- are, Merlin…

"You can back out now if you want, Sam and me, we're going to see this through to the end but you…" Leaving the sentence hanging meaningfully.

"What? No! You think you can drop a bomb like that on me and expect me to just walk out. If you think that about me then you don't know anything Dean. And don't try to make me change my mind, it's not going to work, I can be right stubborn!" He huffed hackles raised and righteous indignation at the suggestion.

"I was afraid of that." The other let out and started chuckling lowly.

"I don't really see what's funny Dean, care to enlighten me?" He sarcastically said.

"Sorry, it's just you looked like an angry kitten for a minute there." Harry puffed up blushing and was preparing himself for a long rant at the smiling man when said man abruptly stopped smiling. "Guess you're in the team now, you do know what you're signing up for though."

Harry rolled his eyes because, honestly? He may looked young and frail with his fragile frame and innocent face, he used the advantages it gave him often enough on over-confident killers to know, but he wasn't a newbie in dealing with arrogant mad man bent on world domination, war or even impossible odds in terrible circumstances plus he had his magic and said exactly that to the blond male.

"Alright, alright, I'll wait for Sam's approval to say anything more to you-

He was already opening his mouth to protest the statement. Because he won't let another person withhold important information from him, especially in the face of something as grand as the end of the world. The other sensing his ire lifted his hand.

-I know, I know, but this is really personal shit with my brother as the lead star and I can't say anything without him there first." Dean was obviously not going to back down from this and he understood so he nodded in acquiescence. "Second you need to talk about your magic to us because we've been hunting witches all our lives and I know you're not the same but I just want an explanation and Sam will probably find it something new to geek about." The rugged hunter smirked with an amused sparkle in his eyes at that last bit.

They stopped talking and relaxed back into their seats in comfortable silence for a while until the sound of wheels reached them.

"I was wrong."

"I won't let you down."

"Oh, I know it."

"Hi Sam."

"What the hell Dean?!"

Oh, how he missed his little brother.

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They had been searching for the Colt for three weeks now and Dean was at the end of his rope. He needed a hunt, real weird-happenings in a no name town monster hunt; he'd even research if that were what it took. Harry had been riding the back seat since Sam got back in the game and claimed shotgun again and he could see the magic-user struggling to try and reach out to Sammy but his brother was being a mistrustful, cagy son of a bitch who didn't give him the time of day. (The only way he had convinced Sammy to take the green-eyed male with them was because it was the Apocalypse, Cas said he was powerful and they could use him, it unnerved him to use that sort of excuse for Sam to budge). That was normally his job and he didn't like his brother being like him, it reminded him too much of those first few months after Jessica's death five years back, shit, only five years…it seemed like a lifetime ago.

Sam was being a downright bitch.

Him, he needed Harry, wanted him with them with his annoying little quirks, weird eating habits (weirder than Sam…) and his accent that became ridiculous whenever he tried to fit in by using American expressions.

Dean also knew he was being short, too watchful, surveying Sam's every moves but he couldn't help it. He saw the freakin' future and it wasn't a good place to be in, Sam had said the big "Yes" to Lucifer. And it wasn't what it signified literally that bothered him it was all the other stuff it meant: it meant giving up, it meant accepting this Destiny crap, it meant he had failed his little brother and that didn't sit well with him at all.

Not. At. All.

And yes they were gonna make their own future like he had declared the other day but it couldn't hurt to be too careful. Call him paranoid and distrustful, of his own blood nonetheless, but after Ruby, the demon blood drinking addiction and all the other crap his brother had pulled last year that seemed to pile on forever.

He wouldn't, couldn't afford a repeat performance.

He could feel Harry's questioning gaze on his face at all times and it didn't help squat, his confused glances from him to his brother and back again. He could probably feel the undercurrent and omnipresent tension in all their interactions, hell, he felt it and as a matter of fact he was purposefully ignoring it at all cost for the time being. Fortunately he didn't seem to have the courage to ask the questions that were assuredly circling in his head, at least for now (he was under no illusions that it wouldn't come out at one point or another). But still, thank God for tactful people.

Harry's presence with them still lightened the mood more often than not, his cute lack of knowledge on some of the normal things like phones or Sam's computer, his somewhat funny awkwardness that even made his brother smile (and wasn't that a feat nowadays); him being here seemed to also smooth over some of the heavy tension-filled silence Sammy and him seemed to have too many times for anyone's comfort. All in all, he didn't regret telling the young wizard, partially, what was going on.

Speaking of which they still haven't talked to him about Sam's problems or even told him an edited version of last year. He pressed the matter with Sam almost every day but was shot down every goddamn time.

Even though he knew it would only do good for the three of them, Sam could then confide in Harry and get a good response back because the little hunter would know what to say and how, he could only offer dry sarcastic replies and cracked half-smiles and it wasn't enough, he wasn't enough: he was painfully aware of his own shortcomings on this part of life. Their new comrade in arms wouldn't judge, he just knew it. They also never seemed to have had any time for Harry's story yet.

Overall, easy to say that their communications issues had reached a new high (a new low).

This wasn't gonna end well.

Reading the paper on the table in the motel room they had purchased for the night after another unsuccessful lead on the famous gun, his brother being his usual broody self sitting, big shoulders hunched on the bed, and Harry in the room next door doing only God knows what.

Also thank God for this particular arrangement they had, he didn't think he could have stand the dark haired petite male being with them in close quarters with all the morning woods he had sported dreaming of green pools of emeralds. He was getting lost in them all over again and was beginning to feel the familiar lust pooling in his lower regions that he had thought he had gotten rid off in the shower mere minutes ago when an article caught his attention.

Finally.

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Harry was annoyed, angry and confused alternatively or all together at once for the whole three weeks he had been with the reunited brothers. Those three emotions were swirling inside of him until he though he would burst with it. He wasn't blind, he could see all the things they couldn't or more wouldn't tell him and it infuriated him to no end but he understood where they were coming from, they were obviously not used to having a third party so he tried to control himself and not snap.

But Merlin, sometimes it was so damn hard not to.

Sam was a completely different person than in the different reality, not as much as Dean, but still. He was a tall hunched man that radiated guilt, grief, pain and despair, his long hair a defensive curtain in front of his hazel-brown eyes. Harry had tried to reach out to him constantly for the past weeks but was always met with a rebuke and mistrust shining out of those eyes that could be described as doe-like but were really two chips of ice when they were settled on him. But he kept trying, because he was, like he had said to Dean days ago, stubborn and Sam's posture, his situation (well, the little he knew of it) he kind of related, there was kinship there.

He would crack the taller male, he would. He had to, because they couldn't go on like that, it wasn't going to work, Dean was obviously pained by their lack of appreciation of one another, so he would, to help everyone (mostly Dean).

He was also weary of the hunt for the famous Colt that could apparently kill the Devil, he seriously doubted a gun would do the trick it even if it was the angel's plan too but he didn't say anything about his doubts, he could recognize desperate hope when he saw it. All the leads they had followed were unsuccessful which only served to make everyone restless and irritable, not a good combination. He was tempted to just call Rufus and bail on them but even as the though formed he knew he was kidding himself, he couldn't and wouldn't do something like that. It was simply not him, if he was actually like that, his life wouldn't have been the trouble-filled one he had so far.

He just wished they would hunt, save lives while searching for that bloody gun. He knew Dean would explode sooner or later if they didn't, Sam too for that matter and him, surely not far behind.

He kind of hated the little brother a little too, he knew it was petty but Dean and him had lost the easy companionship and light flirting that had formed their interactions since the vampire hunt in the face of Sam's dark eyes and permanent frown. Every time it would start, Dean or him would see the clenched jaw and narrowed glare paint themselves on Sam's features and would stop immediately. They were never alone together anymore and he missed it, which was pathetic of him because he still was in his presence but it wasn't enough, it wasn't nearly enough.

He was getting sick of it; they really had to all sit down and talk, quick (his nightmares had come back full force and he was sure it was intimately related to the constant agitation permeating the air, he was somehow glad for his separate room…).

He wanted them all to be more relaxed, well as relaxed as one could be during the Apocalypse, he wanted to ease the heavy weight he could always see on their shoulders, their lives stirred something deep within him, he wanted to help them so badly, he wanted to see Dean's small smile, his bark of loud laughter again, and he wanted to wipe the anxious lines off Sam's face.

He rarely got what he wanted.

He was startled from his light doze by a knock on the door; he quickly grabbed his bag, eager to leave the rundown motel. He opened the door to see Dean smirking and leaning against the wall with a triumphant air about him, "We've got ourselves a hunt."

"Honestly, a real hunt, you're not messing with me right?" He said excitedly practically bouncing on his heels at the news. Dean smiled earnestly at his eagerness, like his joy was contagious.

"Yeah, would I lie?" He said fake innocent mask firmly in place.

Harry smirked at the look and said mischievously "I don't know, would you?"

Dean was opening his mouth to respond at the little challenge, spark in his eyes and lips twitching and Harry was kind of hypnotized by all the shifts of his face when a door slamming was heard followed by two sharps barks of their names.

Dean let out a heavy sigh.

Harry let his head drop looking up at the sky.

Patience.

They had reached Canton, Ohio in the afternoon after another awkward ride in the signature black car, with Sam questioning his brother and Dean having none of it. They talked of "fresh start" and he really was confused, what had happened between the brothers, they were exactly like Hermione, Ron and him during those interactions in the angel world but now… He was piecing all of what he had heard during those hours on the road, of what he had overheard when the brothers fought and argued so loudly he could hear them from his room but still something was missing, there was something he couldn't see to be able to put it all together.

He had always been too curious.

They had stepped out of the car and were making their way towards the sheriff office when the two brothers suddenly both stopped and turned around to look down at him with the almost same identical speculative gleam in their eyes that made him fidget in discomfort.

"You can't go in with us Harry." Sam said with a nonsense sort of tone that made him bristle. Dean nodded in agreement apologetically.

"I'll use a spell that will make me invisible and if you're uncomfortable with it, well, too bad." And he did just that enjoying the slack-jaws and the stunned disbelief displayed by the brothers, they were rather comical.

Dean seemed to be the first one recovering, clearing his throat and elbowing his brother to get him out of his daze, Sam looked at Dean incredulous for letting him do that, "what the hell" written all over his face. Dean made a movement that maybe stood for "let it go, I'll take care of it, go ahead we'll join you", yes he could say all that with just a simple shift of his head. Sam huffed, clearly annoyed but nonetheless walked away.

"Where are you?" Dean whispered into thin air looking around nervously to see if there was anyone in the vicinity that might have thought he was crazy.

He couldn't help it, he chuckled, Dean was kind of adorable when flustered, he was glad it was the older man for once. "I'm here Dean." He said poking the man in the side. Dean jumped practically a foot in the air but got back his self-control fairly quickly much to his disappointment.

"Harry! Harry, you can't do that sort of crap in public or at least warn us." Dean seemed strangely unbothered by the display; he was apparently more worried about his safety. That made him a bit euphoric for a second and the best he had felt in weeks to be honest.

"Hey mate, can I grip on your arm or back, I may be invisible but people can still bump into me, I'd hate to cause that sort of panic." It was true but it was more of a great opportunity to be close to Dean in some way, Merlin, he was hopeless. He was also grateful that Dean couldn't see the blush slowly forming on his cheekbones. He waited anxiously for the answer.

"Dude, of course, put your hand on my back, besides I'd rather know where you are." Dean said winking and turning his back on him as encouragement.

Well, he needed no further prompting and put his palm in between his shoulder blades and came closer to the strong back, Dean was so warm, he radiated it and he could feel all the muscles shifting beneath the suit when he moved, it was incredible, all the sensations he could get from just that simple touch.

They made their way inside.

A car.

A car called "Little Bastard" was apparently the culprit of the crime they were investigating along with the most stupid idiotic sheriff he ever had the pleasure to meet. Dean had scoffed and rolled his eyes so much during the conversation; his eyes would have rolled out of their sockets if they hadn't left so quickly. He was particularly glad they were there, because that poor innocent man would probably rot in jail if they weren't.

They were now in front of the famous sport car that had, according to Dean, belonged to James Dean (who ever that was); he would have asked if he wasn't afraid to be called a heathen by the brothers.

He would research the man discretely later.

He was continuously smiling softly since they had left the station in front of the childish fan boy glee Dean was emanating; it was a nice reprieve from all the awkwardness that steamed between the three of them.

Dean had been adamant about being the one under the hood but was clearly jumpy and adorably anxious though he tried hard to hide it.

He wasn't fooling anyone.

The car moved ominously and his own palms were sweating at the vulnerable position the hunter was in. Finally he had the number, waving it around in their faces victoriously with Sam rolling his eyes and him twitching the corners of his lips amusingly. He was catching a glimpse of what the relationship the brothers probably used to have and he caught himself relaxing a bit at the playful banter.

He was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

"Looks like I made your afternoon." Dean stated finally and they could see the annoyed gleam getting back into Sam's eyes but it was still playful for the most part so they counted that as a win. Dean quickly sent him on his way and when he was completely gone, turned to him.

"We are going to a bar while college-boy do his thing." Said Dean with finality in his tone.

"But shouldn't we help him, or do something case related, he's right it's a ton of research." He responded tentatively.

"Nah, he'll be fine, he loves it!" Dean exclaimed assuredly looking at him with pleading green eyes and a pout.

How could he resist.

"It doesn't work!" He announced disbelief painted all over his face.

Dean chuckled, "I assure you, it does, you just have to have my body and a business card." He stated confidently with all the cockiness he could muster.

"Okay then, prove it." He said in a blatant challenge.

They had been at the pub drinking for the past hour waiting for Sam to call them with some, hopefully, good news. Bantering back and forth bordering on flirting and it felt good to finally be alone with Dean again, to talk freely of anything that passed through their minds, thankfully nothing too heavy, they had talked about the American culture, Dean indignant and shocked at his lack of knowledge on the subject who then had explained to him all about James Dean's legend with him listening more to his voice and staring at Dean's luscious lips wrapped around the words than the actual explanation.

How could talking about movies could be sinful, he'd never know.

Right now, Dean and him were arguing about the most outrageous ways he could pick up women. He was kind of alarmed about Dean's apparent skills at it but he figured he really shouldn't be surprised, if he was one of those women they had talked about, he was sure he would have said yes to anything the smooth talker could have spout.

Dean, as he had known he would, accepted the challenge with a mischievous smile and secretive mirth in his eyes like he knew something he didn't.

"Okay, watch and learn Brit boy." He watched as Dean made his way to the counter, well, prowled was more the word for it, leaning on the bar and oozing so much sex-appeal it should be illegal. He saw him ailing the barmaid and charming crooked smile in place showed her what he assumed was his "actor agent" card (he still couldn't believe the man had made a card for that purpose only) an excited flirtatious smile made his way on the woman's face.

Jealousy, fierce and burning settled in him so fast he got nauseous.

Yes, it worked and he hated it.

Dean made his way back, all smug and smiling cockily, at their table and he quickly blanked his features the best he could to hide the ugly feeling out of view.

"And it works." He said brandishing the phone number like a trophy.

"Yeah, yeah you win mate. I still can't believe they're that gullible."

"It's my smile, they forget everything I might say in front of that winner." He flashed the aforementioned smile his way and okay, he understood intimately and better than anyone else what that smile could do.

He blinked dazedly but shook himself quickly; he wasn't going to give the bastard more ammo. Dean caught the look anyway and his smile widened significantly.

Harry groaned internally but the phone ringing saved him the teasing that was sure to come. His discreet relief sigh seemed to amuse Dean to no end. Not that discreet then…

He could hear Sam's outrage at where they were on the other side of the line and giggled helplessly, shoulders shaking. Dean shot him a playful smirk, all the while teasing his brother.

So, it wasn't the car.

Great.

Another murder, they needed to stop this thing and quick but they had no idea what was doing it. He loved that kind of tricky hunt, hard to solve, real interesting, he knew it was messed up that he was excited at the prospect of another victim but he had learned to roll with it, those cases reminded him of some of his adventures however painful they might have been; he never fooled himself, he knew he loved it: the adrenaline, the mysteries, the triumph, the rush he got…

Yeah, "adrenaline junkie" (he thought that was the term) could describe him fairly well in those situations. That was how he took so quickly and easily to hunting, even Rufus had been surprised and he was sure not much could surprise the man anymore; this life was perfect for him.

Right now, the brothers were inside checking the crime scene, he had forego the spell he had used earlier, not wanting to test the brothers' jumpiness. He was instead lurking outside the professor's office like any curious town's people, desperate for gossip and a glimpse of blood…

Merlin, how he hated those people, took him straight back to Privet Drive.

Sam and Dean finally got out, he could see Dean shaking his head incredulously, ah, it was probably the oblivious sheriff. He approached the two men, seeing them trying to communicate to the Spanish maid. He repressed his laughter at Dean's pitiful attempts at the foreign language, the man seemed to have felt it anyway because he turned back shooting him a playful glare, he raised his hands and widened his eyes trying the innocent look that only got him a smirk and a shake of the hunter's head.

Sam had probably seen the exchange and deemed them useless as he saw him approached the woman with a harmless somewhat soothing pose and doe-eyes in full force.

He started speaking Spanish.

And, okay, that was hot, well, he wasn't blind Sam was a handsome man, hell, he had seen him bloody naked from the waist up and the guy was packing some serious muscle.

It was clear the Winchesters got good genes.

He hadn't realized but he had his mouth open and was openly staring at the youngest until Dean elbowed him in the side and he snapped his mouth shut with a click turning to look at the other man who was gazing at him with a strange glint in his green eyes…with what, jealousy? No that wasn't- No.

Wishful thinking.

He shook his head and tore his eyes away from the other man's when the maid proclaimed tearfully that it was Abraham Lincoln who did it.

He was glad he knew at least who it was this time.

Ghosts of famous people, really? Well, every thing was possible, he reckoned he should learn to stop being surprised with the end of the world happening he was sure that they will encounter crazier, way more dangerous things, he should be grateful it was only a ghost, even if a weird one.

They were checking out the creepy wax museum when he heard cries coming from the main room, he ran as fast as he could back the way he came and found Sam battling with a very little man in diapers and… loosing, he would have laughed, if the man wasn't strangling the tall man for all he was worth.

"Harry! The glasses, Harry!" The alarmingly weak calls of his name put him back in the present,

"Accio glasses, Accio salt!" He commanded and the items flew in his hands at the same time as Dean made his entrance and he put them on fire with a flashback of the first time he did that. The little mean man disappeared but something didn't feel right, he didn't burn out like ghosts usually do, maybe it was even more different than they thought, he put the matter at the back of his mind for now.

"Gandhi, really, you couldn't be fan of someone cool?!" Dean exclaimed looking at his brother playfully like it was a common joke between the two of them. Sam just shrugged but a light was forming in his usually dark eyes.

Harry let out a relieve chuckle and the both of them fastened their eyes on him, he stopped suddenly at the attention and touched his face, "What? What is it?"

"Nothing Harry, thank you." Sam said lowly with honesty and he blushed but nonetheless responded,

"No problem, I have your back you know." He said it with as much sincerity as he could muster for Sam not to have any doubts about this statement even if the man didn't trust him, he should at least trust that. Sam observed him and he had the strange feeling like he was being judged and weighted. At last the little brother nodded with a new gleam in his hazel eyes when he looked at him, he didn't have the time to decipher it when Dean clapped his hands and announced,

"Yeah, thanks Harry, nice tricks you got there, you'll have to tell us about your mojo one day, soon, you know but now, let's get the hell out of dodge." He said pointedly with a certain abruptness that made him look at the tan skin hunter who for his part seemed to have a silent conversation with his brother.

Feeling slightly left out, he made his way outside, for them to have their moment or whatever, he couldn't be jealous of the relationship they had, they were brothers for Merlin's sakes but he was, he couldn't help it.

"Harry! Come on." He startled and made his way to the back seat when he felt a heavy gaze on him, he turned his eyes at the front and caught piercing questioning green eyes, he hold the intense gaze for as long as he could, he smiled a small little smile back in response turning his eyes to the passing scenery. He could still feel the burning gaze boring into the side of his head when suddenly he was free from it; he let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

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His eyes kept straying to the man in the back seat of his baby, he tried to be as discreet as he could be but the calculative gaze he could feel coming from his right told him he was less than successful… But damn, he couldn't very well help it. He knew his attraction was growing and it frightened the shit out of him, he hadn't think about a single woman since Harry and him had been on the road and that wasn't normal at all. He couldn't deny it really but he was trying hard to because he didn't want to fall, he knew himself when he fell, he fell hard and most often than not it finished in hurt, disappointment and disaster.

Case in point: Cassie.

The Winchesters curse, man, it proved to be more and more right.

He knew he couldn't compare Cassie and Harry but she was the only base he had on relationship and it wasn't really glorious…

But God, Harry was difficult not to fall for, the way he had their backs on hunts, the way he had jumped right in with them to save the world, fuckin' everything man…

He had seen Harry's heated look on his brother earlier and twisted irrational jealousy had burned scathing hot in his gut and for a moment he just wanted to grip his face and keep those eyes, this particular gaze only on him, only for him, he wanted to cut his brother, make him ugly, his hands had trembled with hell-fury, his eyes had taken a red hue at the edges and he had had to grip his left shoulder to snap him out of it. He had been horrified at his thoughts and morbidly surprised because it had been a long time since he had had any of what he called, his "Hell urges".

He shook his head forcefully to get this memory out of his mind; going down that particular road was unhealthy and would only end in misery.

He decided he would do what he does best and not talk about it and try not to think about it, continue to hunt and stop the damn Apocalypse, if something good happened between him and the emerald-eyed man then awesome, if nothing, well, he would have to do something, he didn't really knew what but something.

For now, he would wait and see.

Harry was outside getting them some grub, while Sam was sorting their weapons in the trunk and he decided now was a very good time to get Bobby up to speed on Sam and maybe Harry even if wasn't really sure about the latter, he had the strange urge to keep him to himself as best as he could, it was futile, he knew, hell, they were a team he shouldn't keep that piece of info to himself but he couldn't help it.

Apparently that was his motto when it came to the green-eyed hunter.

He heard a click on the other end of the line, "Singer."

"Hey, Bobby it's Dean."

"Dean, back with your brother? Has he stopped being a idjit?"

He chuckled at the term; the gruff accented voice, as always, comforting him.

"Yeah, yeah he's back from his little "monsters and hunters don't exist and the Apocalypse is not happening" trip. We actually just finished a hunt."

"Good, good. No leads on the Colt on my side by the way but I let the words out on the street about it and I'll keep lookin', yours?"

"Nothing, that's actually why we're on a hunt, I was getting antsy just searchin' for that freakin' gun."

"Don't insult the classics boy." The gruff voice responded with a hint of humor, thick accent wrapping around the words and that, that was good to hear, Bobby had obviously not been a happy camper since he was a sitting duck but he seemed more and more able to come to terms with it, "What was the hunt?"

"Famous ghosts!"

"You're kidding me." Booby answered with a deadpan voice that made him smile.

"No, Abraham Lincoln and James Dean, can you believe that?"

"Well, shit."

"Hmmm, maybe the Apocalypse got them all hot and bothered."

"That's no good, I have to warn other hunters if what you say is true."

"Well, we all know whose fault that is."

"Dean…" Bobby said in a warning tone of voice. It didn't deter him.

"Well, I'm sorry but it's true."

The port slamming loudly behind him made him turn to see his brother with a bitch face firmly in place, shit, and Harry with a confused look in his green orbs probably feeling the tension thickening to a stifling level with bags in his hands slightly hidden by the towering form of his brother, that sight made him smile amusedly, Harry barely reached the Sasquatch's shoulder.

"Dean." He heard Bobby on the other side. Oh he had almost forgot about the older man.

"I'll call you later."

"Alright?"

"Yeah, bye."

He hung up before Sam could explode with him still on the phone, he didn't want to alarm Bobby.

Harry had probably felt the impending argument and was deposing the food on the table before sitting on the bed, head down and silent. Oh, how he wished he could do that.

He started the conversation like nothing had happened; he knew his brother would bring up the matter anyways.

"Ready to blow this joint?"

"Yeah." Sam said tightly and he was hoping they could leave it at that but this was Sammy he was talking about besides he wasn't big on hope nowadays. "But I think it's not over here, the ghost didn't disappear like they normally do, it was weird."

"Harry salted and burned it and he popped out, I called this a win, now let's go."

"But don't you think it's strange-

"It was a ghost, a famous little dude in diapers ghost but still a ghost, we ganked it, we go, end of story." He said zipping his bag loudly for emphasis, putting it on his back and going for the door. The English voice however stopped him in his tracks.

"I'm with Sam on this one Dean, it wasn't normal, we should just make sure we really did it before going you know?"

Dean turned back and seeing the two resolute faces and puppy-dog eyes staring back at him, he rolled his eyes at his own weaknesses.

"Okay, okay, we'll check for fuck' sakes. But I reserve the right to say, "I told you so.""

Harry smiled widely back at him triumphantly and gratefully, it was a wonder how much this smile could do to him, his stomach churned and turned and a pleasing sensation filled him until his annoying little brother made himself known.

"So first you drag me into town and then you drag me back out?" He could hear and see the anger simmering behind his dark eyes, the demon blood still not completely out of his system and pulsing around him in waves that he didn't want to witness, the incredulity was also sharp in his voice but he wanted to make something clear here,

"You ain't steering this boat." He stated looking him straight in the eyes.

"This isn't gonna work." God he sounded like a whiny girlfriend, his brother was such a fuckin' girl sometimes.

But okay, he'll play dumb for now.

"What isn't?"

"Us. You, me together." Is he for real? That something you say when you break up, Christ, he already doesn't like where this is goin'. "I thought I could, but I can't."

"You're the one who wanted back in chief." He responded voice deep and dark in preparation for the real angry Winchester argument he could feel storming in his brother's eyes.

"And you're the one who called me back in." Of course he did, they're brothers, it's the Apocalypse, it's their fault, they need to make it right together, his little stroll in the future may have helped a little too…

"I still think we got some trust building to do." (Understatement, didn't he understand that?) He stated trying to compromise already, he didn't wanna fight, he was so goddamn tired of fighting his brother, and they had bigger fishes to fry than to resolve their issues and talk for hours with sympathetic eyes.

"How long am I going to be on double-secret probation?"

Until I'm sure you're not going to go off alone to say, "Yes" to the Devil in fuckin' Detroit Sam, he wanted to shout in his stupid face. "Till' I say so." Was what came out instead, good.

The door clicking shut behind him made him look to see Harry was gone, giving them privacy, he thanked him mentally for his insight and envied him cause' he really wanted out of this discussion right about now. He turned back to Sam sighing loudly.

"Look, I know what I did and I'm trying but you're not making it easier. Harry being there is not helping either."

"So what? I am supposed to let you off the hook? And leave Harry out of this, this is between you and me." He exclaimed incredulously cause the guy started the end of the world, that's not a mistake, that's- they are no words for how disappointed and betrayed and angry he still felt towards Sam. And did his brother just brought Harry into this, this has got nothing to do with Harry, if anything he had been nothing but good and agreeable to them even with Sam watching him like a hawk as they dragged him into their mess.

"No, let's talk about Harry, I leave and suddenly you trust a witch, that arrived in one of Zachariah's stunts I might add, you accept his powers but not mine, we don't know anything about the guy, don't you have learned from our mistakes?! From Ruby?"

His brother questioned intensely, moving his big arms in wide circles. And, oh, low blow, he curled his hands into fists feeling his nails digging into his skin sharply, keeping him from punching Sam right in the face for just comparing that bitch to the sweetheart that was Harry.

"Really Sam? You wanna go there? Harry has got nothing to do with that black-eyed bitch and you know it. Now, leave him out of this or I swear Sam I'll beat you black and blue." He growled, his voice a rumble and his words harsh and articulated trying to restrain his fury the best he could.

Sam widened his eyes at his dark tone and narrowed them in a glare into two chips of ice on his tan visage but he nonetheless seemed to reign himself in and nodded his head sharply.

"This topic isn't over but okay, okay…If this is gonna work, if we're gonna be a team you and I, it has to be a two-way street."

"So what? We go back to the way we were before?" Look where that got them.

"No because we were never that way before, before didn't work."

What? He didn't understand-

"How do you think we got here?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" He said breathlessly, his knees weak at the supposition he could see his brother was trying to make and no-

"Dean, one of the reason I went off with Ruby was to get away from you."

The little shit, he thought in barely contained rage, so now; it's his fault that he trusted that damn demon over his own family!

"Are you sayin' this is my fault?" He whispered looking at him with fire in his eyes.

"No, it's my fault, but we have to change the way we do things."

He shrugged helplessly cause' he wasn't good at changes, he was a creature of habits, he knew that. "What do you want me to do?" Here, that was safe. He was aware he had a lot of times made it worse for Sam because of what he said trying to comfort him, he didn't want to make the same mistakes over and over again, see, changes.

"You're gonna have to let me grow up for starters."

Thankfully, his phone rang saving him from opening that can of worms.

Suiting up as quickly as they could and putting their discussion in the back of their minds for the time being, they made their way to the police office.

The stupid sheriff they had been dealing with since the beginning of the case seemed overwhelmed, finally he was starting to see it was strange with no rational explanation, he snorted at the word…people, man.

He guided them to the interrogation room with two young blond girls crying in.

Paris Hilton…Seriously?! What the hell? This was getting more and more ridiculous by the second. And fuck, he had been worried about Harry since he hadn't seen him at the motel's entrance but with the thing that was probably not a ghost still out there, he was beginning to feel dread pooling in his stomach and deep-seated worry fuzzing his brain.

They were rushing out of the building when the sheriff stopped them in their tracks; they turned back, him on the phone trying desperately to reach Harry.

It wasn't working.

"Just wanted to say a young British man came by just before you got there saying he was the girl's cousin, I think he went for…huh…well, Paris Hilton." He stuttered out at their impatient glares. That made his heartbeat doubled and fear enveloped him, that stupid, stupid beautiful but mostly idiotic man. God, he could be anywhere, he could be with the thing right now, dyin' and he could do nothing to stop it, they didn't even know what it was, he could even already be dea-

"Dean, Dean, calm down, we're going to find him, okay? Just snap out of it dude."

He closed his eyes tightly, breathed in and out slowly, that's it. He needed to keep it together or he'll never found Harry.

"Okay?"

"Yeah." He croaked, "Yeah, okay."

"Good, now, we missed something, we have to go to the morgue and go over what we have."

"Right…Go to the morgue, I'll be researching what else it could be in the motel."

Nodding, they went their separate ways.

He was driving like a mad man down the road to the wax museum with the brass axe, a comfortable weight next to him, pagan god, of course, they should have known, fuckin' hated them as much as demons and maybe even soccer mom witches.

Sammy was trying to calm him down but it wasn't working in fact, his reassurances only made it worse. If he had the time he would have stopped to consider why he was reacting like that, but now wasn't the time for chick-flick thoughts.

Fuckin' Paris Hilton had kidnapped Harry and he was so going to love chopping her bleached blond head off the moment he had the chance.

They arrived at the wax museum and he jumped out of the car, barging in with Sam hot on his trail, they finally arrived at a sort of reproduction of the White House or whatever when he stopped in his tracks, there, in the middle was Harry with blood on his head bound to a fake rock. He barely heard Sam telling him the girl was alive. He ran to him, breathing hard and labored checking frantically for a pulse muttering repeatedly, "Harry, Harry, sweetheart it's Dean, you hear me, I'm sorry, so sorry but it's gonna be okay, I'm gonna get you out of here, why did you even come here alone in the first place you freakin' idiot?! Never mind, I'll get you out, you're alive right, yes, unconscious, that's nothing, right, you're fine Harry, yo-"

A, by now, familiar blow to the head.

Darkness enveloped him.

He groaned and woke up slowly, his sight fuzzy, the unpleasant sound of a knife sharpening and the bitch doing it so close to Harry was like a bucket of ice and he straightened himself up fully testing the ropes holding him in, huh, they were a bit loose, looking to his left he noticed that Sam was fully aware, good. Plan quickly forming, he decided to go with simple, god loved themselves and she seemed to be no exception so they'll make her talk, goading her into a monologue like all bad guys like to, giving them the time to free themselves and kill the bitch.

He just hoped, she wouldn't decide to eat the still unconscious Harry (why wasn't he waking up already, he wanted to see his green green eyes now) first.

"Super. We wouldn't want to miss it."

He was right, she was gone after, talking and talking about worshippers and the good ol' days of sacrifices and cannibalism, Sam having understood the plan with just the glance he gave him, keeping her from acting, his bounds were already almost loose enough.

He tuned back in when she prowled on those stupid high heels towards him.

"You can't eat me. See, I'm not a Paris Hilton BFF, I've never even seen House Of Wax." He stated cockily.

When she started to insinuate she was going to change into his father, he was getting beyond angry and his rage fueled his desire to get his hands on her stupidly thin neck. When she approached Harry, letting the knife glide on his cheek, blood welled up, dark red on his white skin. He saw red but he still couldn't get out of those fuckin' bounds.

"But sorry, you'll have to wait to see your Daddy's face again. This one's coming first; all that pure white power beneath his skin, it smells delicious."

"I'm pretty sure he's not a fan of Paris either, he didn't even know who James Dean was." He said derisively.

"Oh I know, his idol is his Mommy. One dead mother, coming right up."

Seeing Harry waking up during her rant and immediately fastening his green eyes filled with fear on him gave him what he needed and getting out, he lunged for her, putting her on the ground and punching her, she retaliated and damn, she was strong. He was getting plummeted, hearing Harry's desperate cries of his name and he had the sudden thought that it would be pretty lame if he died by Paris Hilton when his brother finally appeared and downed blows after blows on the blonde celebrity.

"Dean." The relief in the English voice made him tears his eyes away from the gruesome sight and he got back up quickly running to him and freeing the still bound hunter. Supporting him when he slumped against him.

"Don't do that again." He ordered wearily.

"Okay." He heard the whisper, breathe warm against his neck, he shuddered but the blood on the other's face made him forget about any unsavory thoughts replaced by protective instincts.

"She must have hit you harder, we'll get back to the motel and patch you up. Just don't go to sleep."

"Yes Dean then we get out of here." Was the sleepy reply he got.

"Couldn't agree more." He responded staring at the lithe pale man who had his arms loosely around his neck looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, God…He groaned.

A cough broke him out of his reverie to see his brother gazing at them with an indefinable look in his hazel eyes from a bloodstained face. He flinched at the reminder that gave him, his brother drinking from a demon like an animal in front of him, his brother screaming in the panic room, his brother licking blood on the corner of his mouth.

No, no, no demon blood, it's fine, they're good.

The pained groan coming from the bundle in his arms reminded him that no, they weren't all alright.

They quickly left the museum of horrors.

He woke up warm and content, that was probably one of the best night he had since he came back from the pit last year, not a nightmare in sight. Felling the bed shift he suddenly realized, he wasn't actually alone in the bed, he had his right arm around a thin waist and a mess of dark hair contrasting beautifully with the white sheets turned in his direction…Harry.

Ah, yes, he had fell asleep next to him after having tended to his wounds…

He understood the warmth better now.

A sleepy green eye opened and he smiled softly at the cute sight the other made, "Hey." He said in a rough sleep induced voice.

Harry blushed and fuck, could he stop doing that, it was really testing his self-control. "Alright dude?"

"Dude" was a good word to use when talking to Harry, it somehow managed to distance him from the intimate embrace they were in.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine Dean, thank you."

"Good. Go pack and we're out of here okay?"

"Hmmm." He looked down to see Harry was already burrowing himself back into the covers, taking his pillow and his side of the bed…Holy crap, fuckin' adorable.

The tent in his boxers was prominent this morning and he quickly made his way to the shower for what was becoming fast a daily morning ritual, he was pathetic.

Getting out, he saw nobody was in the room and put some clothes on, his brother must have gone to get them some breakfast, his stomach growled at the thought, god was he hungry.

The door opening made him turn eagerly and he twitched his nose to scent if there was pancakes involved when Harry and his duffel passed the threshold.

He stopped in his tracks and look at him for a second, before chuckling lowly, "Expecting something else Dean?"

That got him out of his daze, "Yeah, breakfast man, I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry, I swear you're worst than Ron."

The familiar emotion of jealousy flared and he asked tightly. "Who's Ron?" Trying to blank his expression as much as possible.

A sad faraway look itched itself on Harry's features and he regretted the question immediately, he knew that look, he hadn't wished to see it on the smaller hunter. "He was my best friend, in the world I came from, he used to eat like a pig." He smiled wistfully at that last bit.

"Hey, I'm no pig." He exclaimed in fake outrageousness, he wanted to wipe that furrow off the other's brows and the only way he knew that worked instantly was bad jokes.

The other looked at him mirthfully and said in a obviously as fake serious tone, "Of course not Dean. How could I even say that?" Putting a hand to his chest for emphasis, he smiled widely, chuckling happily, forgetting about Sam, demon blood, vessels and the Apocalypse for just a moment, however short it was he was down right grateful.

"Hmm, Dean?" The British accent called for his attention that he appeared to always have this days.

"Yep?"

The other sat himself down and sensing the impending serious conversation he sat on a chair and looked at him questioningly, a little bit afraid the younger male would talk about the obvious, at least to him, attraction, bond, thing, whatever they had between them.

"First thank you."

"For what?" He asked bewildered at the staggering gratefulness he could see in the intense orbs fixing him and holding him in place.

"You know, just taking care of me last night, saving me, letting me stay with you…" He trailed off.

"You don't have to thank me Harry, that's normal, like you said, you've got our backs, and we've got yours, simple as that. For saving you, you're welcome, I guess; just don't pull shit like that again. Go in smart or don't go at all, that's our sayin'. Okay?"

"Alright, I'll try, just know that I was known in my old world to be impulsive, you know acting before thinking, that's me, plus trouble seems to follow me so…"

He sighed because of course they would be with another one.

"Well, I'll say, it's no wonder you fit right in."

He received a blinding white smile in response.

"Dean?" He'll never get used to his name coming out of this mouth, the way the accent wrapped around it should have been illegal.

"Hmm?" He prompted hearing the wobbling uncertainty added to his name.

"I… This is none of my business but maybe you should leave Sam some space or I don't know, let him decide what we're going to do from time to time-

"You're right, it's none of your business, and you don't know squat about my brother." He said more harshly than he intended but clearly Harry could see through Dean Winchester's bullshit.

"I know but if we're gonna stay the three of us together for the foreseeable future, it can't go on like this, I'm not asking you to tell me all of your secrets, I'm not telling you to hug your brother or anything. I'm just saying I'm not stupid and I've felt all the dodged conversations, all the avoided arguments, the tension between you two is bloody awful and half the time I'm not sure if me being here help or not. If you or Sam want, I'll go. Just, talk to him or make a gesture, action is more your style after all. But the way you treat him… it's not long before it's going to blow up in your face and consequently in all of our faces." Harry rushed all of it out like he was afraid he was going to interrupt him again. But he had no intention of doing that.

And it appears he was right, Harry knew how to talk and how to use those eyes. He was right, hell, Sammy was right, he would have to let out a bit on the leash or else it was going to be last year all over again, he needed to trust his brother to do the right thing like he used to.

Nodding determinedly to himself. "Okay. And don't go…Please." He murmured, admiring the slowly forming relived smile on Harry's pale face. The other suddenly bounded out of the bed and to him, wrapping his thin arms around his waist and tucking his head beneath his chin.

The silky hair tickling him, Harry's scent around him and electrifying, he kept him like that one arm around his waist the other thrown on his shoulders for more than was necessary when the other detangled himself with the blush he had been expected. He smirked flirtingly down at him.

"Sorry." The other petite male mumbled, red in the face.

"No complaints on my part sweetheart." He clicked his mouth and closed his eyes shut at that, cursing himself; the term of endearment had just slipped out with him being none the wiser… He prayed the other hadn't heard but from the slightly wide eyes, even wider blush and mouth partly open (and God, close your mouth, please.), his prayer hadn't been answered.

His brother entering the room with food saved him from what would have been a disastrous explication on the word he had used.

Sam was the one who drove his Baby out of town.

The little smile and more relaxed shoulders of his little brother and the proud gleam he could see coming from the back seat made it all worth it.