Soul Mates

CONTINUED….

Words: 3,652
Chapter 1
Soul Mates
Sam watched him, black eyes narrowing slightly as Harry’s eyes fluttered. He moved his arm, slowly reaching out to run three fingers down Harry’s cheek. “Why would you want to leave me?” Sam asked.

Harry gave an incoherent reply. A weight pressed down on top of him – Sam. Harry arched, trying to dislodge the weight, but Sam only smiled and rocked forward, pressing his groin against Harry’s. They were both naked. Sam lay between Harry’s legs, his hands touching whatever part of Harry they wished too, while Harry’s were raised above his head tied together with Sam’s belt.

“Dean?” Harry murmured, his arms pulling against his bonds, eyes still closed.

“Why would you leave me for him? He’s my brother, Bella.” Sam whispered, his fingers tightening on Harry’s chin.

Harry’s eyes snapped open. His pupils were wide, dilated with fear. “What are you-” Harry broke off with a gasp, his cheeks flushing as Sam’s hand moved down south. “What are you doing? Stop it!”

(Slash Scene Starts)

Sam didn’t listen, which was to be expected really.

Instead, he slid a finger inside of Harry; pressing passed the guarding muscle with ease. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Bella. I love you.” Sam whispered, his free hand caressing Harry’s throat. “I prepared you while you were asleep.” Regardless, another fingers pressed into his body, curling and twisting as they brushed over his insides. Harry moaned, an involuntary sound, guttural and humiliating and his cheeks blazed in embarrassment. He bucked his hips, trying to push Sam off, but the Hunter just pressed closer again.

“Sam, stop it!” Harry begged, his eyes tearing up. “Please?”

“Bella, Bella,” he breathed, pressing his lips against her cheek and kissing away the tears. “Don’t you remember me? It’s me, it’s Edward, it’s me! I love you, Bella. Why would you leave me?” Soft kisses laid themselves across Harry’s throat and collarbones, Sam’s lips light and warm against Harry’s skin.

The brunette tensed, readying himself to scream, to beg, to plead, to cry, before he resolutely swallowed the sound down. What was happening, what would happen it was horrible. Humiliating. Nauseating. But it wasn’t Sam’s fault. Sam hated being possessed, hated it almost as much – maybe more – than he hated the demon that had murdered his mother.5 The aftermath would be hard enough for the Winchester as it was. Harry was terrified, to be perfectly honest. But he had always been a bit of a martyr. He would rather suffer silently, alone, than risk causing Sam – or Dean by association – any more pain than necessary.

Sam entered him in one thrust, and despite all the resolve Harry had to the contrary, he screamed. The body above him - Sam’s body but not Sam – tensed as well, waiting until Harry was silent.

“I love you, Bella,” he said as he pulled back and rocked forward again. Each thrust was harsher than the last, more forceful, as if he were punishing Harry for not participating, for not begging for less or for more, or for begging at all. When Sam came, he called Harry’s name and not Bella’s, and Harry felt tears on his face. But he honestly couldn’t tell if he was the one crying or not.

(Slash Scene Ends)

When it was over, Sam’s eyes closed and a sad smile settled onto his mouth as he pulled himself away from Harry. Harry turned his head away again, facing the door, mentally begging Dean to arrive and rescue him. Despite his desire to defend himself, his magic refused to attack someone he considered family – regardless of the fact that Sam was obviously possessed.

Sam moved over him again, lying on top of him, but straddling him this time, a leg on either side of Harry’s hips pinning him to the bed. Hand’s encircled his throat and Sam gave him another sad smile. “I’m sorry, Bella. I really did love you.”

Harry closed his eyes, and when they opened again, glossy with tears as Sam began to choke him, she was suddenly there. Standing right in front of him. Isabella.

She was watching Harry, her hands pressed against her heart and she offered him the same sad smile that was on Sam’s face. “Goodbye,” she mouthed and transparent tears made their way down her transparent cheeks. Sam couldn’t see her. Sam didn’t know – Edward didn’t know that Harry wasn’t being possessed, or he didn’t care, either way he continued to strangle Harry and Bella merely watched without remorse.

The door banged open. Sam looked up, his grip loosening momentarily as his attention focused on his brother. “She belongs with me. She loved me first.” He breathed out softly, moving his head to gaze down at Harry, who had since begun to struggle frantically. “Relax, Bella. You know better than to fight me.”

“Get the fuck away from him!” Dean hissed, raising his hands. In one hand was the Colt Ruby had fixed. His other hand was clenched into a fist, and Dean looked like he wanted nothing more than to lay into the man lying on top of his lover. Dean’s jaw was clenched and his nostrils flared every time he exhaled, his eyes were narrowed and the skin around his eyes was pale.

Sam didn’t move.

Dean fired the gun. A bullet tore across the room, aiming for Sam’s shoulder and the possessed Hunter launched himself off of the bed just in time. The bullet whizzed passed him, lodging itself in the wall. When Sam stood up again, his hands were raised in front of his chest, held out at arm’s length and his bit his bottom lip nervously. Edward’s ghost drifted beside him. His jaw clenched as Harry stood up shakily. Edward’s eyes narrowed as Dean wrapped one arm around Harry’s waist, pulling the younger man out of view.

The gun was still pointed at Sam.

“I-I’m s-so-,” Sam started, but his throat felt as if it was swelling up. There was just no room for words to pass through. He felt like he was swallowing sandbags whenever he opened his mouth, and in the end he settled for shaking his head slowly at Dean, eyes closed and mouth pressed into a thin, shameful line.

Dean lowered the gun.

“Oh Sammy!” He hissed, teeth grinding in anger.

Harry pressed his face between Dean’s collarbones, and he shook lightly. He didn’t want to be afraid of Sam, and he wasn’t actually angry with Sam either. It wasn’t Sam’s fault. It wasn’t. Sam wouldn’t have done that, not like that, not ever, and Harry believed that. It was the ghost; it was Edward’s fault. But that didn’t mean that Harry wasn’t afraid of Sam. He knew he didn’t have to be, but he was anyway. He had always thought he was a strong person, but really he wasn’t. Not when it counted. When others got hurt, Harry had always charged to their defence, saved and protected them at his own expense. Whenever he was injured, he shrugged it off. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever had worse at the Dursleys, after all. But if he were hurt, and it was by a friend – emotionally or physically – it hurt! The very thought that someone he loved might want to make him bleed or cry was like a sucker punch to Harry’s stomach.

And regardless of whether he had wanted to or not, Sam had hurt Harry. And Sam was someone Harry cared about very much, loved in some way – not as much as Dean – but loved regardless. And it hurt. It scared him to realize how easy it was for Sam to hurt him. It reminded him how easy it would be for Dean to hurt him, to leave him.

He couldn’t bear to look at Sam right then.

When Sam’s hand fell on his shoulder, and the man whispered, “forgive me?” while staring hopefully at him, Harry couldn’t help himself. As much as he wished he hadn’t, he had. He jumped away from the brothers, one hand pressed to his mouth to muffle a scream, and he fell, scrambling on his hands and knees into the furthest corner of the room from Sam.

The youngest Winchester sucked in a breath, and he seemed to deflate entirely. Dean grabbed him around the waist, keeping him from sliding to the ground, holding him tightly. “Dean,” Sam gasped, not knowing what else to say, what to do to make every thing ok again.

“I know.” Dean said squeezing his eyes shut. When Sam wrenched away, threw himself into his jeans and ran from the room, Dean didn’t try and stop him. He kept his eyes closed until the door slammed shut, and then he slowly moved to kneel in front of Harry. “I don’t know what to say, Harry.”

“Don’t say anything,” the boy whispered after a moment of silence. “Just hold me, until it goes away.”

Dean pulled Harry towards him, his arms wrapped around Harry’s torso as the boy’s legs spread apart so that they could press closer together without Dean having to move. “I love you,” Dean said softly, his hands running up and down Harry’s back, and his face pressed into Harry’s hair. Harry’s breath tickled his neck, and the elder man smiled softly, very pleased that Harry could stand to be touched by him after having been raped.

“Don’t stop?” Harry asked, in barely more than a whisper.

“I won’t.”

“Ever?” He breathed again.

“I won’t ever stop loving you.”

Dean couldn’t see it, but he felt Harry’s face moving against his neck. His cheeks pulling up as the Wizard smiled. “Good.”

XXX

Dean had driven back to the Riverside Casino and Golf Resort. Harry had promised that he would be fine on his own; it was only for a little while after all, just until Sam was found. Dean had left the room, but only after Harry was locked in the bathroom with the shower running. He didn’t want to stay away for too long. Harry seemed to be taking everything so well. But that was Harry. The boy could be on fire and missing a leg but he would still say ‘i’m fine’ if anyone asked. Dean didn’t trust Harry not to have a breakdown or a panic attack and then tell him. Harry would keep it a secret, pretend he was ok, for Sam and Dean’s sake. But Harry’s needs would be left out of the equation.

“Come on, let’s head back to the room.” Dean said, dragging Sam impatiently after him.

Sam had climbed out of a cab, outside of the Resort, just as Dean was pulling back up in the Impala. The elder brother had paid the cab fare and dragged the younger back into the hotel.

“We need to talk.” Dean made an impatient sound, but stopped walking. “I’m so sorry, Dean, so sorry. If you both want me to leave I completely understand. I do. I’ll leave.”

“Sammy, no one wants you to leave.” Dean let go of Sam’s arm, using his hand to rub at his temples instead. “Harry isn’t mad. I’m not mad. We’re both just… afraid. He’s terrified and he’s afraid to admit it. I’m afraid for both of you, and I’m so goddamned angry at the spirit! But no one is angry with you.” He reached out and squeezed Sam on the shoulder.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go up there. I’ll get a different room for the night. We can head back to San Francisco, take a little down time. I’m sure being around Blaise would be good for Harry. He’d have to spend less time around me then.” Sam gave a rather self-deprecating smile, and it made Dean’s heart hurt to think about choosing between his Siren and his brother.

“You don’t have to leave. Harry is resilient. He’s a warrior, like us. He’ll bounce back. We just have to be there for him, listen to and trust him, love him. He’s going to be just fine. I’ll make sure of it.” Dean promised, narrowing his eyes at Sam. “Now let’s get back to Harry.”6

“Ok.”

When they got back to the hotel room, Harry wasn’t there. The room was empty and the door was locked, with no sign of forced entry. Harry had left of his own free will, and that worried Dean, especially considering that there was a raping-murdering-human-possessing spirit on the rampage that already proved he had it out for Harry.

“What the hell!” Dean cursed, punching the wall.

“Harry wasn’t possessed,” Sam said suddenly. They left the room, walking briskly through the corridors, keeping their eyes peeled for Harry. Black eyes stared at their backs, watching silently as they passed the hallway he hid in.

“Why?”

“Maybe the woman knew Edward was wrong? Edward was convinced Harry was leaving me for you, Dean. Which is bullshit. Maybe she knew he was wrong, and refused? Or maybe she couldn’t possess Harry because he wasn’t having an affair? He might have been immune?” Sam guessed.

“Split up,” Dean snapped, running off in one direction without waiting for a reply.

Sam watched him go and rolled his eyes. He turned around and his eyes widened. “Harry, there you are!” He reached out for Harry, forgetting for a moment that Harry had flinched from him earlier.

Harry didn’t move an inch. He stared at Sam, a small smirk on his face. “Or maybe,” Harry said, continuing on Sam’s theories, “you’re the one in the wrong? It should be you I punish. Why would you leave me, Sam? Don’t you love me?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed and he took a step back, raising his hands to defend himself.

“I LOVED her! I loved her, you piece of shit. And you took her away.” Sam didn’t bother to defend himself. He knew that nothing he said would get through to Harry. Edward was in charge right now. Hands moved for Sam’s throat, but before they could touch him, Dean’s voice filled the corridor.

“Get the fuck away from him!”

“I loved her.” Harry whispered, turning away from Sam. He took one look at Dean, the Colt in his hand, hanging by his side, and charged. Arms caught Dean around the middle, a shoulder slammed into his ribs. The breath was knocked out of him, and he fell to the ground, wheezing. He didn’t struggle as Harry pulled the gun from his hand. The Colt rose as his hand did, aimed at his own head. “Goodbye, Bella,” Harry whispered, his eyes looking over Sam’s shoulder where Isabella’s ghost watched on in silence. “I loved you once.”

He squeezed the trigger, but Sam grabbed his arm and Harry’s hand jerked. The Siren screamed, high-pitched and agonized, as the bullet tore through his shoulder. Blood soaked his shirt, the small hole disappearing under the colour red. And Sam watched the wound in horror.

Sam grabbed Harry just as the boy’s legs gave out. The loss of blood made Harry’s vision swim and Edward’s ghost watched him gasp for breath from beside Bella. “Don’t die,” Sam whispered, hugging Harry’s against his chest, begging him. “Please don’t die. Heal. Heal yourself. Please don’t leave.”

Tears fell unchecked from Dean’s eyes as he walked unsteadily closer, before sinking to his knees beside his brother. He reached out for Harry, but stopped before he touched him. It wasn’t real, he told himself, it couldn’t be happening. “Harry?” He asked softly, looking at Sam instead.

“Come on Harry, heal yourself. You need to break the pattern, you can do it. Don’t die. Don’t let them win. Please don’t leave us.” Sam begged, his mouth pressed against Harry’s ear.

The boy’s eyes were closed, his shoulder still bleeding. “He needs a doctor.” Dean muttered.

“There’s no time. He severed the clavicle vein. He’s going to bleed out.” Sam’s voice shook as he spoke.

Dean’s hands came out, both pressing down on Harry’s shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding, but the blood just seeped out from between his fingers. “Please don’t die.” He whispered, adding to Sam’s pleas.

Harry’s eyelids fluttered. He turned his head slowly, staring at Dean. His lips quirked, just a little, but it was enough of a smile for Dean to return. Dean reached down and took hold of Harry’s right hand, raising it to shoulder height and holding it down on the wound. Harry closed his eyes, focusing all of his strength, what remained of it, on the wound. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to leave Dean, or Sam, or Blaise. He didn’t want to be alone forever.

Something warm touched him, starting in his shoulder and travelling all the way down to his toes, but it made his chest particularly warm. Harry felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. His hand dropped to the side, but that was ok. Dean let it fall, not trying to grab it or stop its descent. Harry’s magic had done its job, and the Winchesters allowed Harry to slip into unconsciousness.

“He’s going to be fine?” Dean asked, to be sure.

The wound was closed. “He’ll be fine.”

As Sam spoke, both ghosts lit up from the inside, glowing a blinding shade of white. The boy’s winced, shielding their eyes from the light and turning their heads away. When they looked back, Isabella and Edward were gone.

Dean stood, bending down to scoop Harry into his arms. “Come on, we should get cleaned up.”

“I’m surprised no one came to investigate the gun shot.”

“Lucky break.” Dean said with a grin. “We don’t get near enough of those.”

XXX

When Harry woke up, he was dressed in pyjamas and tucked into his hotel bed. Dean wasn’t in the room, but Sam was sitting on his own bed, watching Harry over the top of his laptop.

“Dean went for coffee.” Sam told him without prompting.

Harry thought for a moment, deliberating over what to say. In the end, he settled for something simple. “What was Edward’s damage?” He sat up, propping himself against the headboard.

Sam put the laptop on the floor and leant forward, smiling softly at Harry. “Uh,” he started, then cleared his throat, “Edward and Isabella were married in the late 1800s, when it was still legal to beat your wife as long as the stick wasn’t more than two inches thick. He used to beat her horribly, according to the accounts I managed to dig up. In the end, she begged his family to help her since her own were powerless to do anything. Edward’s brother, Jasper, offered to take her away with him when he left for France. Edward found out, jumped to the conclusion that Isabella had been having an affair, but instantly forgave his brother. He raped and beat his wife, strangled her to death, and she was so used to the treatment that she didn’t even fight back. He shot himself, just after, when his brother found him and Isabella’s corpse.”

“Has anything like this happened before?” Harry wondered out loud.

“Twice. There were two murder/suicides, aside from the ones we already knew about, but they occurred about mid-1900s.”

“Well out of our time frame,” Harry said grinning. He stood suddenly, moving across the room, from his bed to Sam’s. Before the other brunette could protest, Harry was sitting in his lap, his leg’s straddling Sam’s. “It’s not your fault. I don’t hate you. I don’t want you to leave. I’m not angry with you, or afraid of you. I just need some time, ok?”

Sam nodded dumbly. Harry’s lips pressed against his, but by the time he had the sense to respond, Harry had already pulled back.

“I love you.”

“I know,” Harry whispered.

“I’d never try and do anything to hurt Dean. Or you. At least, not when I’m control of my body. I don’t want to hurt him. Or you. I love you, but Dean loves you too, and-” Harry’s lips were against his again and this time Sam was quick to return the kiss.

They broke apart as someone cleared their throat. Dean stood in the threshold, leaning against the doorframe. He had a grin on his face, and one of his eyebrows rose up as he drawled, “and here I thought you’d never try and steal my boyfriend. Sammy, Sammy, Sammy,” Dean tsked, “you bitch.”

“Dean, I-” Sam began but Dean just shook his head, still smiling.

“It’s fine. Harry and I sort of talked about it, and I don’t mind. It’ll be weird, and I never want to see the two of you having sex, ever, because that would be gross. You being my brother, and what not. But I don’t mind. I don’t think we can save my soul, Sam, and this way at least neither of you will be alone. You’ll have each other when I’m gone. And I’m happy with that. Knowing that you’re both going to take care of each other makes me happy.”

“Dean!” Harry hissed. He moved to Dean’s side, and pressed a soft kiss to the Hunter’s cheek.

“No. Harry. I’m going to Hell, and when I’m gone it’s going to be your job to look out for Sam, ok? Promise me you won’t let anything happen to him. And Sam, take care of Harry too, please?”

“We’re going to save you.” Sam said stubbornly, refusing to promise Dean anything.

“If you can’t…” Dean let the sentence trail off.

Harry pressed a kiss to his lips this time. He pulled back with a smile, before repeating, “We’re going to save you.”

Dean believed him. Honestly and completely, he believed Sam and Harry would save him, do anything possible to save him. And even if they failed, it was the thought that counted. The knowledge that they wanted to save him made Dean happier than he could describe.

The End


5 – At the start of the Prequel I mentioned that someone (unnamed, unimportant) had died at Sam’s hand because he was possessed. Sam obviously doesn’t like being possessed! Pretend they have yet to get the nifty tattoos on their chests.
6 – Harry will need a lot of time to deal with everything, but this story won’t really cover it. Perhaps I’ll allude to it if I do another sequel. Until then, just accept that Harry is made of sterner stuff than an average human being. He can be a Vulcan! That would be cool!

A/N: I have never been to Riverside, IA. I looked up some stuff on the Internet, and twisted it to suit my needs. Half of the stuff I said probably isn’t true. But there really is a model of the USS Enterprise there… As Spock would say, ‘Fascinating’.
A/N 2: I got to the rape scene, and lost my will to continue. Sorry. This would have been posted so much sooner but then I discovered Child of Grace at FFNet. I recommend.

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Thanks for reading, please consider leaving a review. I don’t know if I’ll be doing more SPN/HP crossovers, but if I do it won’t be until school starts up again. I haven’t seen Season 4 cause I’m waiting for the complete season to come out on DVD. When I’ve seen it, I’ll see what kind of spin I can put on things.