The Path

AN: Sorry this took so long, but everything I tried to write I didn’t like. So after multiple rewrites, this is what I finally came up with that made me halfway happy. Thank you so much for the reviews! Fifteen for the first chapter made me extremely happy!

Chapter 2

Well, Harry thought, the man sure likes tattoos.

Tilting his head to the side, Harry finally took the time to look them over now that he had patched the man up. The muggle’s body was in perfect condition - other than the bullet wound - and without a shirt on, Harry could see every muscle even in their relaxed state. The man was bigger than he was, but not by that much - Harry judged that the muggle was at least five inches taller and a few inches broader in the shoulders.

Harry didn’t really care though, he had grown used to the idea that most males would always be taller than him, but with his workout sessions and training, Harry had developed a good bit of muscle mass himself and that helped him feel a lot better about himself over the years.

Green eyes swept over the man’s chest and down to his bare stomach, and Harry couldn’t help but wonder if the stranger had tattoos any lower than the ones on his abs. Being curious by nature - and sometimes too curious for his own well being - Harry’s fingers itched to take a peek just to see. But in order to satisfy this need of his, he would have to undress a helpless man. It would be a violation, indecent, and morally wrong...

Waving his hand, the man’s pants disappeared and Harry had to raise an eyebrow. Apparently, the man disliked underwear as much as he liked unmarked skin. And yes, the tattoos went below the man’s waist line.

Curiosity satisfied, Harry stood up from his chair that he had drug to the side of the bed, only to flop back down again. Running a hand through his shoulder length hair, he averted his eyes away from the skin show and let out a puff of air. Green eyes gazed over the room, avoiding the wounded man. Really he shouldn’t...but, he could have sworn that was a snake...

Growling in annoyance - since when had he ever not just done what he wanted to? - Harry leaned forward...and yes, that was most definitely a snake wrapped around the man’s...

Harry froze, his eyes going wide and slightly to the left just in time to see the man’s penis twitch once again.

Okay, so not all of him is totally unconscious.

Backing up, Harry pulled his eyes away and gently pulled the white sheet up and over the man’s torso. With a sigh, he turned and exited the extra bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind him before he left the house. He needed to run again.

Pity though, Harry thought as he let his body change once again into that of his animal form, I really wanted to know where the snake’s tail went.

oOOoOOoOOoOOo

The cool, damp sand parted easily underneath his feet, pushing the grains up between his toes as he slowly dug them deeper and deeper. The wind was slow and lazy, just barely ruffling his black hair and he gazed out into the sea. The crashing waves became his focal point as he let his mind drift.

He had been sitting here for a little more than an hour, letting his mind go over the few things he had found out - like how a muggle got through his wards. In the end, he found the answer was simple enough and he really had no one to blame but his own laziness and nature, but he had no control over that.

Not having foreseen the problem of time, weather, and good old fashioned ‘mother nature’ he never once thought about checking on his wards and erosion took its toll. Since his wards were dome shaped and didn’t extend more than a couple of feet in the ground or have a ‘floor’, they left a huge gaping hole when the cliffs fell away due to storms and wind.

Now while this wouldn’t have normally been a big problem for most muggles - seeing as how the beaches were pretty much off limits to all but a few - a parachuter, like the man currently passed out in his home, could have easily slipped underneath them. The fact that the blue cloth of the parachute was scorched at the top suggested that it had brushed the bottom of his hanging wards - and this was what caused the man to make a tumble to the beach below.

Standing up, Harry brushed off the seat of his pants, getting rid of the clinging sand, and then shoved his hands in his jean pockets. Setting off at a slow walk, Harry’s mind tried to work out what he needed to do about the muggle that was currently lying on the bed in his second bedroom - a room he normally used to house a few of the injured wildlife while he took care of them.

The male had absolutely no identification on him - no license, no passport, not even a credit card. He didn’t think the muggle had been robbed, the man didn’t seem like the type that would be easily crossed or taken advantage of, but there didn’t seem to be any explanation for the lack of ID.

Either way though, he couldn’t take the man to the hospital with a gunshot wound. Too many questions would be asked and not to mention the small bit of guilt he already felt for shooting the poor man. This was part of the reason he had left his friends behind - they didn’t need to see him turning into a young Mad Eye Moody just because he couldn’t let go of the war he had fought in.

Fear of hurting them just because they didn’t make their presence known in enough time, or make rowdy sounds like they used to do as kids, caused him to run and hole himself up on a practically deserted piece of land. And while he hadn’t hurt a friend, he had shot an innocent muggle. So, as far as he could see, the only option he really had was just to tend to the man himself and then obliviate any memories of this place once he was healed up and then send him on his way.

oOOoOOoOOoOOoOOo

Why me? Xander thought as he came out of his sleep and began to take stock of the pain his body was in. First it was darts, then it was missle canisters filled to the brim with deadly green stuff, and now it’s bullets. At least this time it was a bit more manly.

Xander groaned as he tried to lift his shoulder to get a better look at it, but he found lifting his head a lot less painful and opted to do that instead. Seeing the white gauze bandage just slightly stained with blood that was now colored an ugly brown, he let his head flop back down to the pillow.

Exhaling, he gazed around the rather small and sparse room, raising an eyebrow at the empty cages that were stacked against one of the walls. Sunlight poured through the only window and he was curious as to why it didn’t even have blinds, much less curtains to block it out.

His eyes finally sought out the door, eyeing it warily. He wouldn’t put it pass Gibbs to have him tested again - this was right up his alley to have him shot then dumped off in some remote cabin. First it was some Yuppie in a diner, then a mentally fucked up drug lord, so he couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to be up against some shotgun toten’ redneck.

Deciding that he needed to know exactly what state his body was in, Xander rolled over to his side and then used his good arm to push his body up, raising an eyebrow when the sheet slid down to reveal his naked body.

Well, he had never been tested naked before, but that wouldn’t stop him from getting out of here as quickly as possible. Standing up, Xander got a better look at the room and was happy to find that his clothes were folded up neatly on top of a small bedside table. Picking up the top article of clothing, and noticing that it was his shirt, tossed it back on the bed, knowing that it would hurt like hell right now if he tried to put it on.

Picking up his pants next, Xander had little trouble getting them on, ignoring the twinges that run across is back and down his arm as he wrestled his way into them. As he zipped up the fly, he looked for his shoes, frowning when he didn’t spot them in the room. Curious as to why those would be gone and just a little bit annoyed - those were good boots damnit! - he sat back on the edge of the bed and pulled on his socks which had been neatly paired up and under his folded pants.

The socks were a bit more difficult as he could really only use one arm, but he eventually managed it and stood back up, casting on last glance around the room. Not seeing anything that could be used as a weapon, he makes his way to the closed door and opens it as quietly as he can, peeking his head out, narrowing his eyes when he doesn’t see anything but a small empty hallway.

There was one door directly across from him, and since the door was open, he could easily see that it was a bathroom. Another door to the left of it was closed but he didn’t pay that one much attention and instead turned to look to the right and saw an open room he assumed was the living area. Silently, he made his way down the hall, his sock-clad feet making hardly any noise as he walked on the wooden floor.

In just a few steps, Xander found himself standing at the edge of the room, and took in the sparse space - just a couch, a couple of straight-backed chairs and a desk. It was the last piece of furniture that drew his attention though, but not because of what it was or what it could possibly hold, but rather the fact it was to the left of what could only be the main door.

Making his way across the room, he barely paid attention to the small kitchen - he was not on a dinner date - and couldn’t help but feel as if whatever lay behind that door was going to be a huge pain in his ass. Steeling himself, he laid his hand on the knob and turned it, flinging the door open, only to stifle a rather girlish scream when he came face to face with the biggest black horse he had ever seen.