Title: The Things We Fear
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN. All recognizable characters and situations belong to their respective owners and I make no profit off this.
Prompt: Week 7 Third Verse BtVS/SPN/Harry Potter
Characters: Dean, Connor, Dementors, Dumbledore
Word Count: 1516
Spoilers: Ats post season 5, SPN season 2, HP post OotP
Summary: Dean comes along a young man being attacked by a group of cloaked figures, he rushes in to try to save the day but finds himself a victim.
A/N: Once again thanks to dhfreak who has stayed on YIM with me as I write these stories encouraging and praising and keeping me as creative as I am. Seriously that girl needs a medal or crown, maybe her own Jensen Ackles.
He should have just handcuffed his ass to the Impala. Things had gotten a little rough and once again Sammy had bolted and now Dean was driving across the Midwest looking for his idiot of a brother.
How was he supposed to protect the moron if he kept running?
Dean cut the engine and eased his body out of the car wincing as he stretched. Driving for three days straight wasn’t the most comfortable thing
He didn't even know why he was looking; Sam had made it pretty clear
he didn't want to be found.
He was Dean Winchester though and no matter how many times people
abandoned him, no matter how many times they kicked him away he
would always come crawling back.
He was pathetic.
And without Sam he knew he had nothing left.
He didn't care if they got the demon.
He didn't care if everybody in the world died.
All he wanted as to be able to protect his little brother and Sam was making that damn hard.
He had already called Ellen and she hadn’t heard anything, this time Sam had done the smart thing and not let Ellen know where we was. It just meant he had to follow lead after lead hoping one would pan out and he could drag his coward ass brother back.
The first thing Dean noticed was the cold, night had barely fallen but already Dean could see his breath on the night hair.
When he felt a shiver in his spine as if there was something whispering across his senses he knew there was going to be trouble. He moved to the trunk moving quickly as he unlocked it and reached under the secret panel for a rifle grabbing a handful of rock salt rounds. He loaded the gun as his eyes warily scanned the empty parking lot of the bar.
He was there to get wasted but he could always put it off if he was going to get some action.
He gently closed the trunk pocketing the key and hefted the rifle on his shoulder as he moved away from his car a feeling of hopelessness settling in his gut as he moved closer to the thing that was emitting it.
He turned the corner and that’s when he saw it or them, it was like a cloak of dark smoke moving and writhing on the air as the figures approached a young man with shaggy brown hair and tightly closed eyes. Whatever they were doing to him it hurt like a bitch.
“Hey.” Dean yelled and the creatures turned to him, as plans went it wasn’t the smartest but he had never been one for thinking things through. He lifted the gun and a shot exploded, the thing didn’t even flinch as the bullet hit it and Dean knew he was in trouble but he kept advancing forward letting loose another pointless shot.
As he got closer his grip on the gun got weaker. Something stirred at his consciousness and he could fell his grip on this reality weakening. He gritted his teeth and flung the empty gun at the creature that was advancing one him his eyes going on the boy before that image was replaced by another.
Fire surrounded him and he could hear his dad screaming. The heat licked at his face and something heavy was being shoved into his arms. He could hear his father’s voice above the roar in his mind “Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Don’t look back! Now Dean, go!” that’s when he had saw it, just a glimpse but he had saw it and that image had haunted him. His mother pinned to the ceiling fire consuming her body her mouth open in a soundless scream and yellow eyes smiling at him.
Dean could feel himself slipping away as he collapsed on the ground his body going cold, so cold it felt like he would never be warm again.
Distantly he heard a voice yell “Expecto Patronum” before he blacked out.
He didn’t know how long he was out, all that he knew as he came to was he was cold and tired and the pounding in his skull was killing him. His eyes blinked open slowly and he rose ignoring the rolling in his stomach as he took in his surroundings. He was still outside laid on the pavement and their was a still body next to his.
He looked over at the boy pale fingers moving to check his pulse reassured when he found it steady and strong.
“Ah Mr. Winchester I expected you’d be the first to awake.” Dean jerked startled to see an old man standing above him. He reached for his gun automatically stopping himself from drawing it as he took in the man’s appearance. Long dark blue robes, half mooned glasses, and a flowing white beard. Either the guy was completely insane or he wasn’t from around there.
Dean was betting on the latter because he wasn’t fond of shooting innocent people. “Who the hell are you?” he bit out becoming aware of the stinging cut on his forehead. If that scarred he was going to feel a whole lot less remorseful if he shoot the guy.
“My name is Albus Dumbledore; it is a lucky thing for you and Mr. O’Reily that I came along when I did.” His voice was kind and placating and if it had been any nicer Dean would have been suspicious.
“What were those things?” he asked turning to the gangly teenager noting that he was beginning to stir. He didn’t know the kid but he’d figured he’d look out for him. He turned back to the guy angling his body so he partially blocked the kid.
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled in amusement like he knew exactly what Dean was doing “Those were Dementors, their dark creatures that feed off the souls of mortals, you won’t be running into them again.” He gave Dean a small nod “I believe you have a brother to find.” and vanished right in front of Dean.
The Hunter flinched his hand tightening around the gun.
“I hate magic.” a rough voice commented and Dean turned back to the teenager whose eyes were alert and open as he struggled to sit up. Dean slipped an arm under his and together they stumbled into a standing position the younger leaning heavily in the older.
“I’m not to fond of it myself.” He muttered as he made sure the boy could stand on his own before he backed off. He studied the teen noticing the steady and firm set to his shoulders, the open defiance in his eyes. It was like looking at himself a couple years back, when the hunt had gotten really hard, when Sam was gone and he had felt alone, hell it was like looking at himself now.
“You have a name?” Dean asked him his tongue darting out to lick the cut on his lip wondering how he had got that one. He still felt cold and a little disgusted with himself that he had fainted, he would kill anyone who ever found out.
“Connor.” the boy replied softly looking unsure his hand closing into a fist then relaxing.
“Well Connor.” Dean drawled out his eyes searching the parking lot for his rifle “Hop in the black car,” when the kid gave him a suspicious look Dean rolled his eyes “relax Conny, I need to find my brother and I’m not about to leave you on the streets.”
“You don’t even know me.” Connor replied softly secrets flittering in his eyes.
Dean paused studying him then gave him a smirk “Sure I do, I know that if you don’t hurry and get your ass to the car I’m going to leave you here.” Connor and Dean’s eyes locked and Connor nodded before turning around and heading to the car his back straight his shoulders more relaxed. Dean closed his eyes and wondered why he had to be the one to pick up strays before following the kid wondering if Connor had any decent taste in music or was going to bitch like Sammy did.
Once he got Sammy back he was going to make the lanky giant ride into the back seat.