Dresden Files Fic
Series: Song series
Title: Lullaby (1/3)
Author: Beautybecks
Characters: Bob, child!Harry
Rating: G, maybe PG for mild language
Fandom: the Dresden Files, TV verse
Summary: Harry can't sleep.
Warnings: no big spoilers but one or two small ones might have snuck in, I've also taken artistic license with Bob's past but I'm not sure if it's AU, just to warn ya.
Word Count: 1322
Notes: written for moonchildetoo who wanted singing!Bob
Disclaimer: I'm just a poor University student. I own nothing so please don't sue. I don't even own this plot!bunny, it owns me.
Lullaby
“Hello Harry.” Bob's voice makes him freeze in his tracks. He slowly turns around, ready to face a lecture. “Is there any reason you are wandering around here in the middle of the night?” Harry gulps.
“I heard some noises.” He tells Bob, his voice high-pitched.
“So you decided to get out of your nice warm bed and come down here to investigate.” Harry hates the way Bob always manages to make him sound like an idiot. He misses his dad.
“I came to find Uncle Justin.” Harry wishes he could make his voice stronger, he hates to think what Bob might think of him. Just a foolish boy, afraid of shadows. But Bob understands, even if he never let on. He knows the power of shadows.
“He's not here. And even if he was I doubt he'd welcome the interruption.” Harry's gaze sinks to the floor, feeling that he's done something wrong. Bob sees this and he softens his tone.“The house is warded, it's virtually impossible for anything to get you.”
“I guess.” Harry mutters, chewing on his bottom lip, tears brimming in his eyes 'cos he really doesn't like the thought of being in this house alone.
“And you've got the shield bracelet your mother left you. That protects you.” Bob reminds him.
“I know.” and he does, but it doesn't protect him from his nightmares. Bob winces, he hasn't had to deal with a scared child for centuries, not since... Bob brushes off the thought. No need to get lost down memory lane, not when Harry needs you.
“I tell you what, Harry.” Bob purses his lips, waiting for Harry to look him in the eye. “If you're that concerned you could take my skull with you. I could act as a lookout whilst you sleep.”
“You'll do that for me?” Harry asks, eyes full of hope and gratitude. Bob doesn't even bother to try and hide his smile.
“If it serves to put your mind at ease.” He adds a little bow. Harry smiles, scooping Bob's skull into his arms as Bob vanishes inside it, a light show that Harry never tires of. Harry runs up the stairs, placing the skull carefully on his bedside table, before sitting on top of his bed, cross-legged and wide-eyed in anticipation.
Eventually Bob does emerge from his skull, glowing like a magnificently red firefly, before materialising in human form, dressed head to toe in those professorly clothes of his. Harry feels the urge to laugh at how show-y it is. He reminds himself it's not a toy, but he does feel as though he's watching a private showing of some new and exciting movie or something. He gets a thrill out of it. Of course, it's just fear misplaced as excitement. That's the way he thinks Bob would explain it. But he knows better than to tell him about it.
“Are you not going to get under the covers?” And suddenly the exasperation in Bob's voice doesn't make Harry feel stupid. He feels rebellious.
“Nope.” Harry shakes his head, smirking. “It's too warm.”
“Then lie down at least.”
“No.” Harry says, laughing softly.
“Harry, there is nothing to be scared of-”
“Well that's a lie and you know it.” Bob's eyes widen before narrowing and usually Harry would be freaked out by that, intimidated, but now it causes him to grin. “besides, I'm not tired any more.”
“Really?” and seriously, how can you say so much with just one word? Bob seems to be a master of that. But why use just one word when you can confuse people with a multitude of words no one knows the meaning of? “and when was the last time you slept?” Harry tries to recall and the fact that he can't just goes to prove Bob's point. “No, you're not tired Harry, you're exhausted. Now I think it would be preferable to try and catch some sleep before sleep catches up with you.”
“Aw” Harry moans. “But I don't wanna!” Bob sighs.
“I know.” Harry figures it must be reverse psychology but Bob's acceptance suddenly makes him sleepy.
“What are we going to be studying tomorrow?” Harry asks, trying to stifle a yawn but genuinely interested. To be honest he quite likes Bob's lessons, Bob can become really animated at the weirdest things. Harry doesn't find them all that interesting but Bob does and Harry finds himself working all that much harder just to make Bob proud.
“I thought you said you didn't want to sleep.” Bob quips and Harry throws a pillow through him. “I'm not picking that up.” Bob retorts making Harry giggle. God, he must be tired if he's giggling.
“You're right. I need to sleep.” Bob bows in agreement, getting ready to return to his skull, “No! Please, stay. I'm not scared when you're here.” Bob rematerialises in his human form.
“As you wish.” Harry often thinks his first instinct was correct: Bob is a genie. Harry's so quiet, lost in thought, Bob almost thinks he's asleep but then Harry's peaceful form stirs. “Bob?”
“I'm here Harry.” He's forgotten this feeling. The responsibility The trust. Harry's a painful reminder of what he lost. But Harry could also be his second chance.
“Can you tell me a story?” Harry asks. “Please?” Bob finds himself nodding.
“I can do better than that.” Bob gulps, tears forming in his eyes as he considers what he's about to do. “But you've got to close your eyes, and promise not to laugh.”
“Why would I laugh?” Harry manages to crack his eyes open to ask.
“Shh, shh, shh. Go to sleep.” Bob whispers and Harry finds his body obeying, even as his mind tries to keep it awake.
“My child fear not, for I am here
And I will always keep you close, my dear.”
Bob is half-saying, half-singing the words. Harry doesn't recognise the tune, he doesn't recognise the song, he barely even recognises the words because all he can notice is how they make him feel.
“If you think you hear monsters in the night
Come here and I will always hold you tight”
Bob is singing so softly, uncertainty tainting his voice and Harry finds himself wanting to tell Bob how it's beautiful, he finds himself wanting to hug Bob but instead, he hugs the pillow as he can feel himself slipping, drifting off to sleep and he tries to stay awake. He wants to hear the rest of the song.
“You may be just a child, my boy
Yet growing up so fast
So innocent and mild, my boy
I long to make this moment last.”
Harry too, wants to make this moment last. He thinks Bob's voice has magical properties, it must have. Because only magic could make him feel this secure, this peaceful, this content. It doesn't hurt to think of his mom, or his dad at the moment. At the moment, nothing matters except Bob's voice.
“I'll give you shelter, I'll give you a home
I'll give you my love and all that I own
I'll keep you safe and free from strife
I'll protect you with my life.”
Bob's voice cracks slightly, on the last word. And, through some kind of sixth sense, Harry knows Bob is crying but his eyes are so heavy he can't open them to prove himself right. He's not sure he'd want to anyway.
“You owe me nothing, little one
You're my burden, not a chore
You are my light, my only sun
My child, even when you're a boy no more.”
Bob can see Harry's fast asleep, it brings a lump to his throat, he looks just like... for a second Bob allowed himself to pretend,
“Goodnight Paul, my small little angel.” Bob smiles as the tear rolls from his cheek, vanishing before it hits the ground. “Sweet dreams.”
*end of part 1*