(no subject)
Another HP/AB Xover
Beauty in the Breakdown
Summary: When they find him he should have died along with his Master, as all humam servants do, but Harry lived, though his mind is not fully intact. For there are certain things the mind can't handle, and then the mind splits, though his broke many years before. Jean Claude has a strange urge to piece this broken puzzle back together, but it may take more time and dedication than they have, especially when Harry's power starts to show, along with his darker side... MPD/DID
Categories: Crossovers Characters: ABVH Characters, Harry Potter Characters
Genres: Angst, General, Romance
Warnings: past Rape, Slash, Spoilers for DM
Word count: 2180
Disclaimer: owned by Laurell K Hamilton and J K Rowling
Warnings: MultiplePersonalityDisorder/DissociativeIdentiyDisorder, past rape/child abuse, maybe violence later…Warnings will change as the need arises. Oh, and Slash, perhaps only aspects at first, but eventually more I think…
Pairings: Canon, Harry(inc.Raven)/? I was thinking perhaps jean Claude, or Asher or both? Though Jean Claude would still be with Anita. I would work it out somehow. What do you guys think?
Right, this is a bit strange, and probably a bit confusing at the moment. I suppose some people might be disturbed, but it’s not actually that disturbing, especially if you’ve read and understand the warnings. I’ve never written something quite like this either so feedback is appreciated. This is the 2nd of two new Harry/Anita xovers that I’ve posted. The 3rd may be up soon. I don’t know. Updates will be erratic.
~*~
He sat hunched over in the corner, blood covered and smothered in dirt. His knees were clutched tightly to his chest, his head bent over, hair obscuring his face. But his shaking was obvious, and small whimpering sounds left his mouth between sniffles and choked breathing. And still all they did was stare.
He shouldn’t have been alive. Everything they knew about human servants said he should have died when his master had burned. But he hadn’t. He had screamed, yes, convulsions wracking his body as invisible flames had licked his pale, dirty skin. But he was undoubtedly alive.
They made no move to go to him, watching him in amazement and perhaps a little fear. He refused to look at them at all. Eventually, it was Jean Claude who took the initiative and slowly walked forward to the small huddling form, neatly knelling in front of him and holding out a hand.
“Child?” He spoke softly, so as not to scare the boy, but he was given no reaction.
“Child?” He said again, louder this time. The shaking didn’t stop, but the pathetic whimpers did, and though no eyes were visible the vampire got the feeling that he was being watched.
“I’m not a child.” The boy said, and it was definitely not a child’s voice, cold and dead.
“Perhaps not, but all mortals are children when compared to my years.”
“I wasn’t talking about my physical age.” And there was still no emotion; everything was said in a monotonous tone that gave nothing away. But the boy finally looked up, and empty azure eyes stared at them out of sunken sockets. His face was still obscured by hair and grime as he stared at the offered hand, before his eyes flicked up to look into blue orbs.
He cocked his head to the side, a gesture of childish curiosity that totally contradicted his afore statement. “Are you going to kill me?” he asked voice inquisitive and light and not at all scared now.
Jean Claude opened his mouth, to say no, to lie, but something about those eyes demanded the truth. “Perhaps.” He said, gently. The boy studied him openly, before nodding lightly.
“Okay.” And a pale hand reached out, lightly placing itself in Jean Claude’s larger one which closed over it, pulling him up gently.
“Come child,” He said to the boy, who looked only to be 15-and that was being extremely generous-, despite his protestations. And the ex-human servant followed willingly, pressing closer to a bemused Jean Claude, the others following behind as they left the dusty old mansion, and the ashes of a Master vampire and his Kiss.
They went straight back to the Circus, though only Jean Claude, Anita, Asher, Richard, Micah and Nathaniel went down to Jean Claude’s private living room. And, of course, their guest, who trailed along beside Jean Claude, head down submissively, humming to himself, hair still flopped over into his face so that they never had a good view of his features. Not once did he try to escape, and his body wasn’t even tense. The change from how he had been only half an hour before, when he had first spoke, was astounding, and not a bit disturbing. While the boy looked like a child, they got the feeling that he was older, yet his actions…And when had his eyes become emerald? Surely they had been blue before…
Jean Claude seemed to debate with himself before sitting down and gently pulling the boy to sit next to him, as everyone else took seats. And after the green eyed mystery just continued to hum some insanely happy tune, giving no reaction to his surroundings, Jean Claude came to a decision. “Would some one please bring a wet cloth?” he asked, as he turned the boy’s head to face him.
“You have pretty eyes.” The strange, childlike non-child remarked happily.
“As do you.” The Master of the City replied, as he pushed the grimy hair away from the filthy face, porcelain white appearing as he rubbed at a spot with a gloved finger. “What is your name child?” He enquired mildly.
“They call me Baby.” Baby answered cheerfully.
“They?” Anita asked, “Who’s they?”
Baby opened his mouth to answer, before he seemed to freeze, and an internal struggle
was visible in his eyes. Then his mouth closed as his eyes hardened and bled into cerulean blue, a shadow passing over his face, and he jerked away from Jean Claude, standing suddenly, eyes flitting from one person to another.
Anita stood, a hand straying to her gun, as the boy tensed.
“Baby?” Jean Claude asked, voice smooth and melodic, intertwined with a thread of enthralling power. But the boy seemed to shake it off and he stepped back, away from them.
“I’m not Baby.” He sneered, fists clenched.
“But you just said-“ Micah started, but was cut off.
“No. He said.”
“Who?” Micah asked.
The boy frowned in annoyance. “Baby of course.”
“Then who are you?”
“It’s none of your fuc-“
Then it happened again, a visible change, and the eyes were expressive emerald once more as full red lips pouted.
“Be nice Raven! Harry wouldn’t be happy if he heard you being rude.”
It was then that Nathaniel walked back into a room carrying a cloth. But he stopped as he saw the confused and slightly fearful looks on the group’s faces. “Have I missed something?” He asked. There was no answer, so he walked over and handed the cloth to the Master Vampire before curling up next to Anita.
“Come here Baby.” Jean Claude demanded, and the boy looked up at him through long dark lashes, eyes beseeching.
“Are you mad at me?” He asked sadly. Jean Claude softened and held out his hand.
“Non enfant, je ne suis pas fâché.”
Baby smiled brightly and grabbed his hand. “Okay.” Seeming to perfectly understand the vampire.
“You speak French?” Asher asked surprised.
“I guess.” Baby said, shrugging, and he let himself be pulled to Jean Claude as the vampire proceeded to wipe the filth off of his face.
“Beautiful…” the vampire whispered as the last of the muck came off. The were a few shallow cuts, and a strange scar on his forehead, but they took nothing away from the utter perfection. Jean Claude cupped Baby’s face in his hand, fingers stroking smooth skin, and Baby nuzzled against his hand, craving the touch. Then the Master frowned, brow creasing, as a thought struck him.
“Who is Harry?”
Baby gasped and pulled away, stumbling backwards. “You’re not allowed to ask that!” He exclaimed, scandalised.
“Why?” The Master vampire asked, as Baby eyed him warily.
“Because…because He said so.”
“And who is He?” They expected another change, and they could see the mental fighting played out across an exquisite face, flashes of blue in the green eyes, before it stopped, and they found it was still Baby with them.
“They don’t want me to tell you.” Baby said, though it was rather obvious. “They don’t trust you. But they don’t trust anyone…”
Jean Claude sat back down, and watched him, internally uneasy. “Who is He?” He asked again, tone soft and inviting. Baby slowly inched forward, subsequently climbing onto the vampire’s lap, knelling on the sofa in between the legs that had opened to give him room. The boy put a hand on Jean Claude’s shoulder as he leant into him, rising up so that his mouth rested against the vampire’s ear, warm breath ghosting against the Master’s skin. Jean Claude put his hands gently on the boy’s hips to steady him, and for the first time noticed he was wearing nothing, but small, tight shorts, leather by the feel. Baby’s top half was bare.
“He…” Baby started, shaking, voice trembling. “He’s mean, I…I don’t like Him very much, He scares me. We try to keep Him locked away, but He’s too strong sometimes.”
“And who is he?”
“Midnight.”
And the weres could smell his fear now, taste it as it became a tangible thing in the air. Jean Claude ran a soothing hand through Baby’s hair and the boy changed his position so that he was curled up in the vampires lap, a position he was small enough to manage, despite not being the size of the age he was acting.
“How old are you Baby?” Richard asked, speaking for the first time. The boy turned to him, angelic face thoughtful as he seemed to muse over the question.
“I think….I’m 6. The others are older than me though. Raven’s…um…15 I think. And He, Mi…Midnight… well, we don’t know how old he is. He’s always been there.”
“And Harry, how old is he?”
Baby coked his head, and frowned. “We don’t know. He was 16 last time we was asked. But that was before they made us bond with him, the dark one.”
“You mean Dresden? Your Master?”
Baby scrunched his nose up at the term, but nodded anyway. “I didn’t meet him much. Mostly Raven did. Though I think Harry did sometimes. Raven told me about him. He sounded scary…”
Then he suddenly looked at Jean Claude. “Are you really dead?”
The Master frowned. “I suppose so.”
“Oh…” Baby said softly, “I thought Raven was lying. He does that sometimes, lies.”
“Don’t you?”
”Nu uh!” Baby exclaimed, shacking his head empathically. “Lying is bad, Harry said I shouldn’t lie. Raven lies for us. He’s good at it.”
“And Harry?”
Baby froze, and tried to draw away, but Jean Claude was holding him tightly, and in the end he gave up struggling.
“Baby…” And the vampire’s tone was a warming that Baby seemed to know well, for he shuddered and pressed himself closer to jean Claude, burying himself in the blue satin shirt.
“Harry doesn’t come out much. He used to, before the vampire, come out most. He didn’t like hiding. But he doesn’t wanna come out anymore. It’s safer in there.”
“So you come out for him.”
“Ya huh, me and Raven and sometimes Him, but rarely Harry.”
“May I speak to him?”
“Na uh! Maybe later…”
Then Baby’s short attention span was caught by a glittering trinket sat on one of the side boards, and he slipped off of Jean Claude’s lap and pranced happily over to it, staring at it in awe. “Can I touch it? Please?”
“If you wish.” The Master vampire answered, smiling slightly at the childish curiosity. Baby picked it up reverently, and the circular box just fit in the palm of his hand. He lightly traced the inlaid jewels with a finger, and if they had seen his eyes they would have noticed a ring of blue around the green, but they didn’t and Raven retreated, content for the moment to let Baby play. As long as there was no threat Baby could stay, otherwise Raven would take over. Harry would not come out either way.
Inspection finished, baby turned back around to face the room and pouted.
“I’m all dirty…” He whined, lips pursed. “I don’t like being dirty, it feels yucky.”
“Venez mon enfant, I will run you a bath.” Jean Claude said, standing up gracefully. He took Baby by the hand and led him into the bathroom as the boy chattered contentedly, leaving the other occupants of the room behind. He was hoping that when he came back into the room, someone would have an answer. Though the child was strangely endearing, he was dangerous, and the vampire had not forgotten. He would not risk his people. But, he had an odd reluctance to kill the boy as well.
Yet if the need arose, the dark haired, pale skinned, eye changing angel would be dead before he felt a change in the wind.
Beauty in the Breakdown
Summary: When they find him he should have died along with his Master, as all humam servants do, but Harry lived, though his mind is not fully intact. For there are certain things the mind can't handle, and then the mind splits, though his broke many years before. Jean Claude has a strange urge to piece this broken puzzle back together, but it may take more time and dedication than they have, especially when Harry's power starts to show, along with his darker side... MPD/DID
Categories: Crossovers Characters: ABVH Characters, Harry Potter Characters
Genres: Angst, General, Romance
Warnings: past Rape, Slash, Spoilers for DM
Word count: 2180
Disclaimer: owned by Laurell K Hamilton and J K Rowling
Warnings: MultiplePersonalityDisorder/DissociativeIdentiyDisorder, past rape/child abuse, maybe violence later…Warnings will change as the need arises. Oh, and Slash, perhaps only aspects at first, but eventually more I think…
Pairings: Canon, Harry(inc.Raven)/? I was thinking perhaps jean Claude, or Asher or both? Though Jean Claude would still be with Anita. I would work it out somehow. What do you guys think?
Right, this is a bit strange, and probably a bit confusing at the moment. I suppose some people might be disturbed, but it’s not actually that disturbing, especially if you’ve read and understand the warnings. I’ve never written something quite like this either so feedback is appreciated. This is the 2nd of two new Harry/Anita xovers that I’ve posted. The 3rd may be up soon. I don’t know. Updates will be erratic.
~*~
He sat hunched over in the corner, blood covered and smothered in dirt. His knees were clutched tightly to his chest, his head bent over, hair obscuring his face. But his shaking was obvious, and small whimpering sounds left his mouth between sniffles and choked breathing. And still all they did was stare.
He shouldn’t have been alive. Everything they knew about human servants said he should have died when his master had burned. But he hadn’t. He had screamed, yes, convulsions wracking his body as invisible flames had licked his pale, dirty skin. But he was undoubtedly alive.
They made no move to go to him, watching him in amazement and perhaps a little fear. He refused to look at them at all. Eventually, it was Jean Claude who took the initiative and slowly walked forward to the small huddling form, neatly knelling in front of him and holding out a hand.
“Child?” He spoke softly, so as not to scare the boy, but he was given no reaction.
“Child?” He said again, louder this time. The shaking didn’t stop, but the pathetic whimpers did, and though no eyes were visible the vampire got the feeling that he was being watched.
“I’m not a child.” The boy said, and it was definitely not a child’s voice, cold and dead.
“Perhaps not, but all mortals are children when compared to my years.”
“I wasn’t talking about my physical age.” And there was still no emotion; everything was said in a monotonous tone that gave nothing away. But the boy finally looked up, and empty azure eyes stared at them out of sunken sockets. His face was still obscured by hair and grime as he stared at the offered hand, before his eyes flicked up to look into blue orbs.
He cocked his head to the side, a gesture of childish curiosity that totally contradicted his afore statement. “Are you going to kill me?” he asked voice inquisitive and light and not at all scared now.
Jean Claude opened his mouth, to say no, to lie, but something about those eyes demanded the truth. “Perhaps.” He said, gently. The boy studied him openly, before nodding lightly.
“Okay.” And a pale hand reached out, lightly placing itself in Jean Claude’s larger one which closed over it, pulling him up gently.
“Come child,” He said to the boy, who looked only to be 15-and that was being extremely generous-, despite his protestations. And the ex-human servant followed willingly, pressing closer to a bemused Jean Claude, the others following behind as they left the dusty old mansion, and the ashes of a Master vampire and his Kiss.
They went straight back to the Circus, though only Jean Claude, Anita, Asher, Richard, Micah and Nathaniel went down to Jean Claude’s private living room. And, of course, their guest, who trailed along beside Jean Claude, head down submissively, humming to himself, hair still flopped over into his face so that they never had a good view of his features. Not once did he try to escape, and his body wasn’t even tense. The change from how he had been only half an hour before, when he had first spoke, was astounding, and not a bit disturbing. While the boy looked like a child, they got the feeling that he was older, yet his actions…And when had his eyes become emerald? Surely they had been blue before…
Jean Claude seemed to debate with himself before sitting down and gently pulling the boy to sit next to him, as everyone else took seats. And after the green eyed mystery just continued to hum some insanely happy tune, giving no reaction to his surroundings, Jean Claude came to a decision. “Would some one please bring a wet cloth?” he asked, as he turned the boy’s head to face him.
“You have pretty eyes.” The strange, childlike non-child remarked happily.
“As do you.” The Master of the City replied, as he pushed the grimy hair away from the filthy face, porcelain white appearing as he rubbed at a spot with a gloved finger. “What is your name child?” He enquired mildly.
“They call me Baby.” Baby answered cheerfully.
“They?” Anita asked, “Who’s they?”
Baby opened his mouth to answer, before he seemed to freeze, and an internal struggle
was visible in his eyes. Then his mouth closed as his eyes hardened and bled into cerulean blue, a shadow passing over his face, and he jerked away from Jean Claude, standing suddenly, eyes flitting from one person to another.
Anita stood, a hand straying to her gun, as the boy tensed.
“Baby?” Jean Claude asked, voice smooth and melodic, intertwined with a thread of enthralling power. But the boy seemed to shake it off and he stepped back, away from them.
“I’m not Baby.” He sneered, fists clenched.
“But you just said-“ Micah started, but was cut off.
“No. He said.”
“Who?” Micah asked.
The boy frowned in annoyance. “Baby of course.”
“Then who are you?”
“It’s none of your fuc-“
Then it happened again, a visible change, and the eyes were expressive emerald once more as full red lips pouted.
“Be nice Raven! Harry wouldn’t be happy if he heard you being rude.”
It was then that Nathaniel walked back into a room carrying a cloth. But he stopped as he saw the confused and slightly fearful looks on the group’s faces. “Have I missed something?” He asked. There was no answer, so he walked over and handed the cloth to the Master Vampire before curling up next to Anita.
“Come here Baby.” Jean Claude demanded, and the boy looked up at him through long dark lashes, eyes beseeching.
“Are you mad at me?” He asked sadly. Jean Claude softened and held out his hand.
“Non enfant, je ne suis pas fâché.”
Baby smiled brightly and grabbed his hand. “Okay.” Seeming to perfectly understand the vampire.
“You speak French?” Asher asked surprised.
“I guess.” Baby said, shrugging, and he let himself be pulled to Jean Claude as the vampire proceeded to wipe the filth off of his face.
“Beautiful…” the vampire whispered as the last of the muck came off. The were a few shallow cuts, and a strange scar on his forehead, but they took nothing away from the utter perfection. Jean Claude cupped Baby’s face in his hand, fingers stroking smooth skin, and Baby nuzzled against his hand, craving the touch. Then the Master frowned, brow creasing, as a thought struck him.
“Who is Harry?”
Baby gasped and pulled away, stumbling backwards. “You’re not allowed to ask that!” He exclaimed, scandalised.
“Why?” The Master vampire asked, as Baby eyed him warily.
“Because…because He said so.”
“And who is He?” They expected another change, and they could see the mental fighting played out across an exquisite face, flashes of blue in the green eyes, before it stopped, and they found it was still Baby with them.
“They don’t want me to tell you.” Baby said, though it was rather obvious. “They don’t trust you. But they don’t trust anyone…”
Jean Claude sat back down, and watched him, internally uneasy. “Who is He?” He asked again, tone soft and inviting. Baby slowly inched forward, subsequently climbing onto the vampire’s lap, knelling on the sofa in between the legs that had opened to give him room. The boy put a hand on Jean Claude’s shoulder as he leant into him, rising up so that his mouth rested against the vampire’s ear, warm breath ghosting against the Master’s skin. Jean Claude put his hands gently on the boy’s hips to steady him, and for the first time noticed he was wearing nothing, but small, tight shorts, leather by the feel. Baby’s top half was bare.
“He…” Baby started, shaking, voice trembling. “He’s mean, I…I don’t like Him very much, He scares me. We try to keep Him locked away, but He’s too strong sometimes.”
“And who is he?”
“Midnight.”
And the weres could smell his fear now, taste it as it became a tangible thing in the air. Jean Claude ran a soothing hand through Baby’s hair and the boy changed his position so that he was curled up in the vampires lap, a position he was small enough to manage, despite not being the size of the age he was acting.
“How old are you Baby?” Richard asked, speaking for the first time. The boy turned to him, angelic face thoughtful as he seemed to muse over the question.
“I think….I’m 6. The others are older than me though. Raven’s…um…15 I think. And He, Mi…Midnight… well, we don’t know how old he is. He’s always been there.”
“And Harry, how old is he?”
Baby coked his head, and frowned. “We don’t know. He was 16 last time we was asked. But that was before they made us bond with him, the dark one.”
“You mean Dresden? Your Master?”
Baby scrunched his nose up at the term, but nodded anyway. “I didn’t meet him much. Mostly Raven did. Though I think Harry did sometimes. Raven told me about him. He sounded scary…”
Then he suddenly looked at Jean Claude. “Are you really dead?”
The Master frowned. “I suppose so.”
“Oh…” Baby said softly, “I thought Raven was lying. He does that sometimes, lies.”
“Don’t you?”
”Nu uh!” Baby exclaimed, shacking his head empathically. “Lying is bad, Harry said I shouldn’t lie. Raven lies for us. He’s good at it.”
“And Harry?”
Baby froze, and tried to draw away, but Jean Claude was holding him tightly, and in the end he gave up struggling.
“Baby…” And the vampire’s tone was a warming that Baby seemed to know well, for he shuddered and pressed himself closer to jean Claude, burying himself in the blue satin shirt.
“Harry doesn’t come out much. He used to, before the vampire, come out most. He didn’t like hiding. But he doesn’t wanna come out anymore. It’s safer in there.”
“So you come out for him.”
“Ya huh, me and Raven and sometimes Him, but rarely Harry.”
“May I speak to him?”
“Na uh! Maybe later…”
Then Baby’s short attention span was caught by a glittering trinket sat on one of the side boards, and he slipped off of Jean Claude’s lap and pranced happily over to it, staring at it in awe. “Can I touch it? Please?”
“If you wish.” The Master vampire answered, smiling slightly at the childish curiosity. Baby picked it up reverently, and the circular box just fit in the palm of his hand. He lightly traced the inlaid jewels with a finger, and if they had seen his eyes they would have noticed a ring of blue around the green, but they didn’t and Raven retreated, content for the moment to let Baby play. As long as there was no threat Baby could stay, otherwise Raven would take over. Harry would not come out either way.
Inspection finished, baby turned back around to face the room and pouted.
“I’m all dirty…” He whined, lips pursed. “I don’t like being dirty, it feels yucky.”
“Venez mon enfant, I will run you a bath.” Jean Claude said, standing up gracefully. He took Baby by the hand and led him into the bathroom as the boy chattered contentedly, leaving the other occupants of the room behind. He was hoping that when he came back into the room, someone would have an answer. Though the child was strangely endearing, he was dangerous, and the vampire had not forgotten. He would not risk his people. But, he had an odd reluctance to kill the boy as well.
Yet if the need arose, the dark haired, pale skinned, eye changing angel would be dead before he felt a change in the wind.