The Juniper Tree (The Dresden Files/Supernatural) 3/4
Title: The Juniper Tree
Author: ‘Drea/placeofinsanity
Rating: R (for gore, some language and implied sexual content)
Word Count: 12,370 (bitches )
Kink: Endearments, loss of control, magical themes...
Fandoms: Supernatural/The Dresden Files
Pairing: Harry/Bob, Harry/Sam, Sam/Dean
Summary: “We’re asking for help from a wizard who advertises in the yellowpages? ”
Thanks To: My lovely betas: thebunnybag , asexyzombie , rayn_firehawk and sixthbrightest
Artist: aramuin , thank you so much for the AMAZING art.
Notes: I hate Season Four Ruby. I hate her. This is your only warning. Also, the kinks are kind of hidden. Have fun finding them.
Part Three
The Ghost
Patricia Alloui sat nervously in the Interrogation room, twisting her hands in front of her. Murphy watched impassively through the one way window and Kirmani stepped up behind her, with coffee. “So what’d she do?” he asked. He’d taken her in on suspicion for the alimony she and her husband had worked out before marriage but he knew that if she was really stiffing Louis that the case would be transferred out of SI right away.
“I think she killed Cavin,” Murphy said, touching the necklace that Anna had given her for her birthday one year. It always gave her comfort during the children cases, knowing that her own daughter was safe at home, or at school.
“How can you be sure?” Kirmani asked, instantly suspicious. “This doesn’t have anything to do with that quack Dresden, does it?”
Murphy gave her partner a flat look. “Kirmani, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were obsessed. No. Look at the ribbon around her neck.”
Rolling his eyes, Kirmani did. “What am I looking for?”
“The color,” Murphy said sardonically, waiting for Kirmani to clue in. Several seconds later, his eyes half-heartedly searching, he froze.
“That’s blood,” he said slowly. “Dried blood.”
“Yup,” Murphy said. “How much do you want to bet that its Cavin’s?”
With that last thought, Kirmani and Murphy entered the interrogation room together.
*
Harry had just unlocked the front door when his phone started ringing. “Stars and stones ” he swore, his arms full of the groceries they could afford. He placed them at the door and leapt for the old rotary phone. “Dresden,” he barked.
The person on the other end drew in a shaky breath. “Harry? It’s me.”
The wizard went cold. “Murph? What’s wrong?”
“Dresden, you might want to come down here,” Murphy said faintly. “Something...strange happened. Your kind of strange.”
“Stars and...I’ll be right there, Murph.” Harry hung up gently. “Shit,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Bob ”
The ghost stuck his head through the wall. “Yes, Dresden?”
“This crazy day isn’t over yet.” I’ve got to head over to S.I.”
A slight frown marred his fine features. “Whatever for?”
“Something Murphy classified as my kind of strange happened over in interrogation.” Bob’s eyebrow raised. “Yeah. That can’t mean anything good.”
Bob stepped fully into the room. “I will let your Winchester boys know where you have gone,” he offered magnanimously.
Grinning in relief, Harry blew out a sigh. “Thanks, Bob. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Smug, Bob crossed his arms over his chest. “Surely starve. Put your groceries away before you run off again, Harry.”
“Hells bells!” Harry leapt up. “Today is just is not my day,” he groused.
Bob had the audacity to chuckle at him. “Good luck, Harry.”
Putting the milk away, and pouring cat food for the missing Mister, Harry laughed at himself. “Thanks, Bob.”
He waved, locking the door, and thundering off in his jeep a moment later. The small smile that Bob had been sporting faded and he sank into the wall.
Only to come face to face with Castiel. “Hrothbert of Bainbridge, I summon you,” the angel said, his voice a monotone.
“Oh...dear,” Bob murmured.
*
Kirmani was holding a paper towel to his mouth and looked like he was going to be sick when Harry arrived at the Chicago PD. He saw Harry walk through the door and pointed a shaking finger at the elevator down to the morgue.
Raising an eyebrow, Harry took the stairs. The way the week had been going, the elevator probably wouldn’t even work if he stepped into it.
“Hey Butters,” Harry said. “Murph.”
Waldo Butters, several inches shorter than both Harry and Murphy waved sheepishly. “Hey Harry,” he said, “I didn’t want to touch her until you got here.”
“Touch her?” Harry repeated blankly. “Touch wh-ohmygod, Hells frickin’ Bells ” The body that Butters had pointed to was none other than Patricia Alloui, her head neatly severed off at the shoulders. The head itself sat on its own tray, a look of stunned horror etched on her finely boned features. “That’s...that’s the wife.”
“Yeah,” Murphy said, hugging herself. “I took the Ribbon off and...” she gestured graphically.
Harry blinked. “Stars and stones,” he muttered with feeling. He waved a hand over the body and instantly recoiled, trying to shake the black magic out of his limb. “That’s bad,” he said dumbly. “Oh, that’s bad. That’s really, really bad.”
“What, Harry?” Muprhy said, her irritation clear. “What the Hell happened?”
“That’s a spell. Don’t roll your eyes at me, Murphy,” he cautioned, reading her face right. “It’s like a controlling spell. It’s ah....pretty dark. Evil, dark. It keeps the host body alive so long as the parasite can control it. Hells Bells, it really is the tree.”
“Tree?” chorused Murphy and Butters, exchanging a look.
“The tree ” Harry pushed away from the body and turned to Murphy. “Come with me?” he implored and she followed him without hesitation.
Butters turned to Patricia Alloui’s body, and rubbing his hands together, got to work.
Harry took the mostly silent Murphy to his car, driving as fast as the Bug was able towards Louis Alloui’s suburban home. His car was in the driveway, as was Patricia’s. Murphy murmured as they parked, “think he knows his wife is dead yet?”
“She’s been dead a long time, Murph. The Ribbon was only keeping her animated.” Harry got out of the car. “We just need to find out if Louis is next.”
*
Bob was standing in the lab looking bewildered when Sam and Dean trooped in. “Bob?” Sam asked cautiously. “You all right?”
His green eyes snapped to Sams. “Yes? Oh. I’m fine Sam. Never better.” He smiled a little. “How was your epic adventure with the Whomping Willow?”
Excitedly Sam held up the paper. “It’s not a Willow, it’s a Juniper tree.” Bob and Dean both hung in his pause. Bob glanced at the eldest Winchester.
“I didn’t get it either,” Dean admitted.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Think Grimm’s fairytales.”
Bob’s eyes widened. “The Juniper Tree. My God! ” He rushed over to the bookshelf, one hand already out and he froze.
“...Bob?” Sam questioned. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes,” Bob breathed. “I’m fine.” He forced a smile and turned around. “I...Grimm’s fairytales. Jakob and Wilhelm Grimm, they often wrote about real things,” he mused out loud.
“Like that 2003 movie ” Dean interrupted.
Bob blinked. “Certainly,” he said blankly. “Whatever you say.” Sam snickered. “But, in one instance, they literally stumbled upon something so gruesome most people don’t even know the story. It is rarely published in anthologies, only the complete ones, which most people don’t bother reading as it is...”
“The Juniper Tree?” Dean asked. “So, the mother kills the step-son, feeds him to the father and buries him under the Juniper Tree? If that’s the case...”
“Then why did the mother die?” Harry asked from behind them, standing in the doorway. “Just got back from SI.”
Everyone swivelled to face him. “Patricia is dead?” Dean asked.
“They took off the Ribbon and her head fell off.”
Both the Winchester boys snorted. “But that happens to the little boy in the story,” Dean protested. When Sam stared at him, he added, “I read.”
“Yes,” Bob drawled. “But that was in the book. This is not a book.”
An awkward silence fell and Harry cleared his throat to rid the lab of the tension. “By the way,” he said when everyone turned to look at him again, “Sam, Bob and I found some information out about Lilith for you.”
Sam’s eyes lit up. “Yes?”
Bob gave Dean’s turned back a significant look and Harry nodded for him to continue. “Lilith...she herself, is a Seal.” Dean whirled and the color drained from Sam’s face. “And your ah...Demonic helper, Ruby? She is the highest Acolyte of Lucifer.”
Sam made a wretched noise and covered his mouth with one hand. Dean stepped closer so their shoulders brushed. “She...is?” Sam whispered around his shaking fingers. “She is?”
“Yes,” Bob said gravely. “Harry should do a Cleansing Spell on the both of you to rid you of Ruby’s and Lilith’s influence. As it has been many months, it will be great.”
Dumbly, Sam could only nod and Dean murmured, “how did you find out?”
Bob pointed to one of the books on the many shelves. “I might not remember Lilith’s crusade,” he said, smiling, “I am not as old as that, but I remember Ruby’s. I was the one who created the Cleansing Spell, after all.” He carefully didn’t look at Sam. “I often used Demons to give me a power boost.”
“When can we do this?” Dean asked.
Bob jerked his head at Harry. “Whenever he can.”
Sam turned pleading eyes on Harry. “Harry,” he murmured. “Please.”
Dresden stepped into the lab. “Tell me what I need, Bob.”
*
Sam was screaming. Blood was pouring out of his ears, eyes and nose. Though his face was twisted in a grimace of pain, Harry kept chanting low under his breath. White light pulsed and weaved around him, vanishing the blood as it fell. Dean’s cleansing had only taken ten minutes. Sam’s was going on twenty. When the spell had ended, Sam stood, hunched over himself panting. “Sam?” Dean asked cautiously.
The man looked up, his eyes bright. “Dean,” he whispered. “I’m okay.”
Harry smiled in relief, the Sight that Sam gave him was a happy one. “You good, kid?”
Sam stepped out of the circle. “Yeah.” He folded the wizard into his arms. “Thank you,” he said into Harry’s ear. “I almost destroyed the world if not for you.”
“But you didn’t,” Harry said. “Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.”
“And,” Dean chimed in, “nuclear warfare.”
The lab dissolved in laughter (and a hidden smile from Bob) as the door upstairs jingled alarmingly. Feeling an intense sense of de’ja vu, Bob asked Harry, his smile fading, “didn’t you lock that?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, exchanging a look with Sam. “I did.” Then the screaming started. “Somebody’s not supposed to be here...” he lilted under his breath. “Let’s go.”
“I’ll be in my skull,” Bob murmured.
It was Ruby. She lay on the floor, stuck in Dean’s two devil’s traps. “Sam ” she panted. “What the hell?”
His eyes were cold and flat. “Ruby,” he replied evenly. “You lied to me.”
“I’m a Demon, of course I did!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “What exactly did I lie to you about?”
Dean snarled. “Lilith is a Seal!”
Ruby’s head came up slowly, her eyes Demon black. “You cannot possibly know that,” she growled.
Harry grinned. “Except that he has me now, lady.”
Ruby’s lip curled, sensing a victory. “I smell Hellfire on you, wizard,” she purred.
He raised an eyebrow. “Lash and I parted ways.” He glanced at Dean who held Sam back forcibly. The other man nodded. “But I still have fire.” Ruby began to scream before the spell was even completed. “Fuego.”
*
Sam, Dean and Harry stood just outside the mud pit. The juniper tree twitched its leaves at them angrily. Harry handed Sam the Ribbon he’d gotten from Murphy. “Around your wrist,” he advised. “Not your neck.”
Sam wrapped the stiff silk around his forearm. “You really think it’ll work?”
“It should,” Harry said. “But...be careful anyway.”
Armed with salt, gasoline, and Dean’s lighter, Sam stepped into the mud. The tree twitched, then settled with a drawn out groan that sounded like pleasure. They waited with bated breath but it seemed as though the tree was content to let Sam pass. Sam circled the tree carefully, laying down salt and gasoline carefully. The tree still didn’t move.
Sam reached out carefully and touched the tree at its bleeding X. Slowly, so slowly, the tree opened and spurting out bloody pulp, the body of Cavin Alloui fell into Sam’s arms.
At that moment, the tree and the ground around it went up in flames as Sam dropped the lighter.
“Sam!” Dean shouted. “Sam!”
Harry hauled him back out of the circle of bloody mud. “Don’t!”
Though the wizard knew only a few seconds had passed, it felt like a lifetime until Sam strode out from the flames, cradling the cut up and eaten body of Cavin Alloui.
The three of them stood there watching and waiting for the burning to stop. It took two hours but the tree was finally reduced to ashes.
Harry took Sam’s cell phone from him, and with a murmured spell, called Murphy. “Murphy,” he said into it when she answered. “Meet me at the park.”
“Why...?” she asked suspiciously.
“We have the boys body,” he said.
“Shit, Dresden ” she barked. “Did you move it?”
Harry glanced behind him as Sam and Dean dug a hole at the burned base of the tree. “No,” he said, “but we did dig him up.” He gestured for them to hurry it up. “We’re by that tree that was supposed to be demolished this week.”
“The dead Juniper tree?” she asked.
The Winchesters were putting the body carefully into the ground. “Yeah,” Harry answered. “It seems to have fallen prey to some vandalism.” He could fairly hear Murphy’s best unimpressed face through the phone. “We chased some kids out of the area, they burned the tree down.”
“And how did you know the boys body would be there?” she asked skeptically.
“Old wizarding trick,” he lied easily. “Can’t tell you how it works.”
Murphy sighed, giving up. “We’ll be there.”
*
“Hey Sam?” Dean asked, judging that his brother wasn’t asleep by the caliber of his breathing. “You awake?”
There was a rustle of movement, and Sam rolled over to face Dean. “Yeah?”
“Why were you up in Harry’s room the other night?”
Considering they’d worked through the previous night, and the sun was just beginning to rise, Sam bit back the crude comment. “The couch isn’t that comfortable, Dean,” he said slowly. “And Harry has let me sleep in his bed before. I had a nightmare and didn’t want to wake you.” He gave his brother a soft look. “You generally don’t sleep through the night anymore than I do.”
Dean gazed at him for a long moment. “You were...kind of all over him.”
His brother snorted. “Harry’s a bit of a wild sleeper.”
Slowly, though he tried to keep the expression from his face, Dean looked incredulously at Sam. “...Dude,” he said finally, “are you gay?”
Sam snorted again, laughing quietly into his pillow. “Sometimes,” he answered honestly. “Jessica liked getting me drunk and picking up guys, so she could watch.” He grinned a little, turning to look at the ceiling. “It was really hard to be straight around her, considering I was the first man she dated since early high school.” Dean whistled low under his breath. “Harry was a big help before Standford. He gave me what I needed.”
“Which was?” Dean asked hesitantly.
Sam glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Closure.”
Dean breathed in sharply and looked away. The two brothers lay in silence for a while before Dean finally asked, “would you prefer to be up there with him, right now?”
“No,” Sam answered honestly. “We haven’t really talked...not since you told me about Hell.” He sat up, pushing his hair out of his face. “I miss you, Dean.”
“Hey,” his brother warned, “no chick flick moments.”
Sam snorted and brushed the fringe of hair out of Dean’s eyes. “You’ve been having more of those than me,” he reminded with a laugh. “Besides, you were the one who started this conversation out about relationships.”
“I just...I wanted you to know that I wouldn’t care, if you wanted one. With Harry.” Dean said lamely.
Sam grinned. “I don’t need a relationship with Harry. He’s a good friend.”
It was Dean’s turn to sit up and look at his brother closely. “Everyone needs someone, Sam. You don’t get laid nearly as much as I do.”
There was something in the air between them and Sam took the initiative. “I have a great relationship,” he said slowly. “With you.”
“That wasn’t...what I meant,” Dean murmured weakly, not convincing anyone.
Sam leaned forward. “Wasn’t it?”
*
When Harry woke up in the very late afternoon, he peered over the edge of his balcony, wondering what had woken him. A sound like the tinkling of bells floated in on the cross breeze from his open window and when he blinked, Castiel stood at the foot of his bed. Harry could only blink again. “Whuzzat?” he muttered, sliding back down under the covers. “What do you want?”
Russet wings rustled in the breeze and Castiel gazed down at Harry somberly. “I find that I am in your debt, wizardling,” he said, his voice soft. “The world we knew was slowly disintegrating the more demon blood Samuel would imbibe.”
Harry blinked again, and rubbed his eyes. “I just...did what any wizard would.”
“Donald Morgan wouldn’t,” Castiel pointed out flatly. “Ancient Mai, or Emrys Merlin. Your nemesis LaFortier,” he named off the High Council’s wizards, all of whom had it out for Harry himself. “You are an anomaly amongst magic users, Harry Dresden.” There was a smile in Castiel’s eyes that didn’t betray his mouth. “I would assume it was from Michael Carpenter’s influence.”
“Tell me something, Angel,” Harry said. “Does God truly exist?”
Castiel’s wings twitched, but his face betrayed nothing. “Only if you truly believe,” he said. “The faith of Angels is never enough.”
“Then why keep fighting?” the wizard asked. “Why continue when you don’t even know if you’re doing the right thing?”
The Angel’s head tilted a little to the side. “Why not?” he asked, and, if he were listening, Harry would have heard the hint of amusement in his voice. “I just do.”
“Then...” but Castiel held up one hand and Harry trailed off.
“I have given you a gift, Wizardling. You only get one chance,” the angel mused out loud, “many people do not even get that much. Good luck,” he added earnestly. “And thank you.”
When Harry blinked again, Castiel was gone. But there was, at the foot of his bed, a dark russet brown feather that glowed gold when the light caught it. He placed it in his bedside drawer, and even when the sun finished setting, the feather still glowed.
*End
| Part One | Part Two | Part Four |
Author: ‘Drea/placeofinsanity
Rating: R (for gore, some language and implied sexual content)
Word Count: 12,370 (bitches )
Kink: Endearments, loss of control, magical themes...
Fandoms: Supernatural/The Dresden Files
Pairing: Harry/Bob, Harry/Sam, Sam/Dean
Summary: “We’re asking for help from a wizard who advertises in the yellowpages? ”
Thanks To: My lovely betas: thebunnybag , asexyzombie , rayn_firehawk and sixthbrightest
Artist: aramuin , thank you so much for the AMAZING art.
Notes: I hate Season Four Ruby. I hate her. This is your only warning. Also, the kinks are kind of hidden. Have fun finding them.
Part Three
The Ghost
Patricia Alloui sat nervously in the Interrogation room, twisting her hands in front of her. Murphy watched impassively through the one way window and Kirmani stepped up behind her, with coffee. “So what’d she do?” he asked. He’d taken her in on suspicion for the alimony she and her husband had worked out before marriage but he knew that if she was really stiffing Louis that the case would be transferred out of SI right away.
“I think she killed Cavin,” Murphy said, touching the necklace that Anna had given her for her birthday one year. It always gave her comfort during the children cases, knowing that her own daughter was safe at home, or at school.
“How can you be sure?” Kirmani asked, instantly suspicious. “This doesn’t have anything to do with that quack Dresden, does it?”
Murphy gave her partner a flat look. “Kirmani, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were obsessed. No. Look at the ribbon around her neck.”
Rolling his eyes, Kirmani did. “What am I looking for?”
“The color,” Murphy said sardonically, waiting for Kirmani to clue in. Several seconds later, his eyes half-heartedly searching, he froze.
“That’s blood,” he said slowly. “Dried blood.”
“Yup,” Murphy said. “How much do you want to bet that its Cavin’s?”
With that last thought, Kirmani and Murphy entered the interrogation room together.
*
Harry had just unlocked the front door when his phone started ringing. “Stars and stones ” he swore, his arms full of the groceries they could afford. He placed them at the door and leapt for the old rotary phone. “Dresden,” he barked.
The person on the other end drew in a shaky breath. “Harry? It’s me.”
The wizard went cold. “Murph? What’s wrong?”
“Dresden, you might want to come down here,” Murphy said faintly. “Something...strange happened. Your kind of strange.”
“Stars and...I’ll be right there, Murph.” Harry hung up gently. “Shit,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Bob ”
The ghost stuck his head through the wall. “Yes, Dresden?”
“This crazy day isn’t over yet.” I’ve got to head over to S.I.”
A slight frown marred his fine features. “Whatever for?”
“Something Murphy classified as my kind of strange happened over in interrogation.” Bob’s eyebrow raised. “Yeah. That can’t mean anything good.”
Bob stepped fully into the room. “I will let your Winchester boys know where you have gone,” he offered magnanimously.
Grinning in relief, Harry blew out a sigh. “Thanks, Bob. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Smug, Bob crossed his arms over his chest. “Surely starve. Put your groceries away before you run off again, Harry.”
“Hells bells!” Harry leapt up. “Today is just is not my day,” he groused.
Bob had the audacity to chuckle at him. “Good luck, Harry.”
Putting the milk away, and pouring cat food for the missing Mister, Harry laughed at himself. “Thanks, Bob.”
He waved, locking the door, and thundering off in his jeep a moment later. The small smile that Bob had been sporting faded and he sank into the wall.
Only to come face to face with Castiel. “Hrothbert of Bainbridge, I summon you,” the angel said, his voice a monotone.
“Oh...dear,” Bob murmured.
*
Kirmani was holding a paper towel to his mouth and looked like he was going to be sick when Harry arrived at the Chicago PD. He saw Harry walk through the door and pointed a shaking finger at the elevator down to the morgue.
Raising an eyebrow, Harry took the stairs. The way the week had been going, the elevator probably wouldn’t even work if he stepped into it.
“Hey Butters,” Harry said. “Murph.”
Waldo Butters, several inches shorter than both Harry and Murphy waved sheepishly. “Hey Harry,” he said, “I didn’t want to touch her until you got here.”
“Touch her?” Harry repeated blankly. “Touch wh-ohmygod, Hells frickin’ Bells ” The body that Butters had pointed to was none other than Patricia Alloui, her head neatly severed off at the shoulders. The head itself sat on its own tray, a look of stunned horror etched on her finely boned features. “That’s...that’s the wife.”
“Yeah,” Murphy said, hugging herself. “I took the Ribbon off and...” she gestured graphically.
Harry blinked. “Stars and stones,” he muttered with feeling. He waved a hand over the body and instantly recoiled, trying to shake the black magic out of his limb. “That’s bad,” he said dumbly. “Oh, that’s bad. That’s really, really bad.”
“What, Harry?” Muprhy said, her irritation clear. “What the Hell happened?”
“That’s a spell. Don’t roll your eyes at me, Murphy,” he cautioned, reading her face right. “It’s like a controlling spell. It’s ah....pretty dark. Evil, dark. It keeps the host body alive so long as the parasite can control it. Hells Bells, it really is the tree.”
“Tree?” chorused Murphy and Butters, exchanging a look.
“The tree ” Harry pushed away from the body and turned to Murphy. “Come with me?” he implored and she followed him without hesitation.
Butters turned to Patricia Alloui’s body, and rubbing his hands together, got to work.
Harry took the mostly silent Murphy to his car, driving as fast as the Bug was able towards Louis Alloui’s suburban home. His car was in the driveway, as was Patricia’s. Murphy murmured as they parked, “think he knows his wife is dead yet?”
“She’s been dead a long time, Murph. The Ribbon was only keeping her animated.” Harry got out of the car. “We just need to find out if Louis is next.”
*
Bob was standing in the lab looking bewildered when Sam and Dean trooped in. “Bob?” Sam asked cautiously. “You all right?”
His green eyes snapped to Sams. “Yes? Oh. I’m fine Sam. Never better.” He smiled a little. “How was your epic adventure with the Whomping Willow?”
Excitedly Sam held up the paper. “It’s not a Willow, it’s a Juniper tree.” Bob and Dean both hung in his pause. Bob glanced at the eldest Winchester.
“I didn’t get it either,” Dean admitted.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Think Grimm’s fairytales.”
Bob’s eyes widened. “The Juniper Tree. My God! ” He rushed over to the bookshelf, one hand already out and he froze.
“...Bob?” Sam questioned. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes,” Bob breathed. “I’m fine.” He forced a smile and turned around. “I...Grimm’s fairytales. Jakob and Wilhelm Grimm, they often wrote about real things,” he mused out loud.
“Like that 2003 movie ” Dean interrupted.
Bob blinked. “Certainly,” he said blankly. “Whatever you say.” Sam snickered. “But, in one instance, they literally stumbled upon something so gruesome most people don’t even know the story. It is rarely published in anthologies, only the complete ones, which most people don’t bother reading as it is...”
“The Juniper Tree?” Dean asked. “So, the mother kills the step-son, feeds him to the father and buries him under the Juniper Tree? If that’s the case...”
“Then why did the mother die?” Harry asked from behind them, standing in the doorway. “Just got back from SI.”
Everyone swivelled to face him. “Patricia is dead?” Dean asked.
“They took off the Ribbon and her head fell off.”
Both the Winchester boys snorted. “But that happens to the little boy in the story,” Dean protested. When Sam stared at him, he added, “I read.”
“Yes,” Bob drawled. “But that was in the book. This is not a book.”
An awkward silence fell and Harry cleared his throat to rid the lab of the tension. “By the way,” he said when everyone turned to look at him again, “Sam, Bob and I found some information out about Lilith for you.”
Sam’s eyes lit up. “Yes?”
Bob gave Dean’s turned back a significant look and Harry nodded for him to continue. “Lilith...she herself, is a Seal.” Dean whirled and the color drained from Sam’s face. “And your ah...Demonic helper, Ruby? She is the highest Acolyte of Lucifer.”
Sam made a wretched noise and covered his mouth with one hand. Dean stepped closer so their shoulders brushed. “She...is?” Sam whispered around his shaking fingers. “She is?”
“Yes,” Bob said gravely. “Harry should do a Cleansing Spell on the both of you to rid you of Ruby’s and Lilith’s influence. As it has been many months, it will be great.”
Dumbly, Sam could only nod and Dean murmured, “how did you find out?”
Bob pointed to one of the books on the many shelves. “I might not remember Lilith’s crusade,” he said, smiling, “I am not as old as that, but I remember Ruby’s. I was the one who created the Cleansing Spell, after all.” He carefully didn’t look at Sam. “I often used Demons to give me a power boost.”
“When can we do this?” Dean asked.
Bob jerked his head at Harry. “Whenever he can.”
Sam turned pleading eyes on Harry. “Harry,” he murmured. “Please.”
Dresden stepped into the lab. “Tell me what I need, Bob.”
*
Sam was screaming. Blood was pouring out of his ears, eyes and nose. Though his face was twisted in a grimace of pain, Harry kept chanting low under his breath. White light pulsed and weaved around him, vanishing the blood as it fell. Dean’s cleansing had only taken ten minutes. Sam’s was going on twenty. When the spell had ended, Sam stood, hunched over himself panting. “Sam?” Dean asked cautiously.
The man looked up, his eyes bright. “Dean,” he whispered. “I’m okay.”
Harry smiled in relief, the Sight that Sam gave him was a happy one. “You good, kid?”
Sam stepped out of the circle. “Yeah.” He folded the wizard into his arms. “Thank you,” he said into Harry’s ear. “I almost destroyed the world if not for you.”
“But you didn’t,” Harry said. “Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.”
“And,” Dean chimed in, “nuclear warfare.”
The lab dissolved in laughter (and a hidden smile from Bob) as the door upstairs jingled alarmingly. Feeling an intense sense of de’ja vu, Bob asked Harry, his smile fading, “didn’t you lock that?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, exchanging a look with Sam. “I did.” Then the screaming started. “Somebody’s not supposed to be here...” he lilted under his breath. “Let’s go.”
“I’ll be in my skull,” Bob murmured.
It was Ruby. She lay on the floor, stuck in Dean’s two devil’s traps. “Sam ” she panted. “What the hell?”
His eyes were cold and flat. “Ruby,” he replied evenly. “You lied to me.”
“I’m a Demon, of course I did!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “What exactly did I lie to you about?”
Dean snarled. “Lilith is a Seal!”
Ruby’s head came up slowly, her eyes Demon black. “You cannot possibly know that,” she growled.
Harry grinned. “Except that he has me now, lady.”
Ruby’s lip curled, sensing a victory. “I smell Hellfire on you, wizard,” she purred.
He raised an eyebrow. “Lash and I parted ways.” He glanced at Dean who held Sam back forcibly. The other man nodded. “But I still have fire.” Ruby began to scream before the spell was even completed. “Fuego.”
*
Sam, Dean and Harry stood just outside the mud pit. The juniper tree twitched its leaves at them angrily. Harry handed Sam the Ribbon he’d gotten from Murphy. “Around your wrist,” he advised. “Not your neck.”
Sam wrapped the stiff silk around his forearm. “You really think it’ll work?”
“It should,” Harry said. “But...be careful anyway.”
Armed with salt, gasoline, and Dean’s lighter, Sam stepped into the mud. The tree twitched, then settled with a drawn out groan that sounded like pleasure. They waited with bated breath but it seemed as though the tree was content to let Sam pass. Sam circled the tree carefully, laying down salt and gasoline carefully. The tree still didn’t move.
Sam reached out carefully and touched the tree at its bleeding X. Slowly, so slowly, the tree opened and spurting out bloody pulp, the body of Cavin Alloui fell into Sam’s arms.
At that moment, the tree and the ground around it went up in flames as Sam dropped the lighter.
“Sam!” Dean shouted. “Sam!”
Harry hauled him back out of the circle of bloody mud. “Don’t!”
Though the wizard knew only a few seconds had passed, it felt like a lifetime until Sam strode out from the flames, cradling the cut up and eaten body of Cavin Alloui.
The three of them stood there watching and waiting for the burning to stop. It took two hours but the tree was finally reduced to ashes.
Harry took Sam’s cell phone from him, and with a murmured spell, called Murphy. “Murphy,” he said into it when she answered. “Meet me at the park.”
“Why...?” she asked suspiciously.
“We have the boys body,” he said.
“Shit, Dresden ” she barked. “Did you move it?”
Harry glanced behind him as Sam and Dean dug a hole at the burned base of the tree. “No,” he said, “but we did dig him up.” He gestured for them to hurry it up. “We’re by that tree that was supposed to be demolished this week.”
“The dead Juniper tree?” she asked.
The Winchesters were putting the body carefully into the ground. “Yeah,” Harry answered. “It seems to have fallen prey to some vandalism.” He could fairly hear Murphy’s best unimpressed face through the phone. “We chased some kids out of the area, they burned the tree down.”
“And how did you know the boys body would be there?” she asked skeptically.
“Old wizarding trick,” he lied easily. “Can’t tell you how it works.”
Murphy sighed, giving up. “We’ll be there.”
*
“Hey Sam?” Dean asked, judging that his brother wasn’t asleep by the caliber of his breathing. “You awake?”
There was a rustle of movement, and Sam rolled over to face Dean. “Yeah?”
“Why were you up in Harry’s room the other night?”
Considering they’d worked through the previous night, and the sun was just beginning to rise, Sam bit back the crude comment. “The couch isn’t that comfortable, Dean,” he said slowly. “And Harry has let me sleep in his bed before. I had a nightmare and didn’t want to wake you.” He gave his brother a soft look. “You generally don’t sleep through the night anymore than I do.”
Dean gazed at him for a long moment. “You were...kind of all over him.”
His brother snorted. “Harry’s a bit of a wild sleeper.”
Slowly, though he tried to keep the expression from his face, Dean looked incredulously at Sam. “...Dude,” he said finally, “are you gay?”
Sam snorted again, laughing quietly into his pillow. “Sometimes,” he answered honestly. “Jessica liked getting me drunk and picking up guys, so she could watch.” He grinned a little, turning to look at the ceiling. “It was really hard to be straight around her, considering I was the first man she dated since early high school.” Dean whistled low under his breath. “Harry was a big help before Standford. He gave me what I needed.”
“Which was?” Dean asked hesitantly.
Sam glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Closure.”
Dean breathed in sharply and looked away. The two brothers lay in silence for a while before Dean finally asked, “would you prefer to be up there with him, right now?”
“No,” Sam answered honestly. “We haven’t really talked...not since you told me about Hell.” He sat up, pushing his hair out of his face. “I miss you, Dean.”
“Hey,” his brother warned, “no chick flick moments.”
Sam snorted and brushed the fringe of hair out of Dean’s eyes. “You’ve been having more of those than me,” he reminded with a laugh. “Besides, you were the one who started this conversation out about relationships.”
“I just...I wanted you to know that I wouldn’t care, if you wanted one. With Harry.” Dean said lamely.
Sam grinned. “I don’t need a relationship with Harry. He’s a good friend.”
It was Dean’s turn to sit up and look at his brother closely. “Everyone needs someone, Sam. You don’t get laid nearly as much as I do.”
There was something in the air between them and Sam took the initiative. “I have a great relationship,” he said slowly. “With you.”
“That wasn’t...what I meant,” Dean murmured weakly, not convincing anyone.
Sam leaned forward. “Wasn’t it?”
*
When Harry woke up in the very late afternoon, he peered over the edge of his balcony, wondering what had woken him. A sound like the tinkling of bells floated in on the cross breeze from his open window and when he blinked, Castiel stood at the foot of his bed. Harry could only blink again. “Whuzzat?” he muttered, sliding back down under the covers. “What do you want?”
Russet wings rustled in the breeze and Castiel gazed down at Harry somberly. “I find that I am in your debt, wizardling,” he said, his voice soft. “The world we knew was slowly disintegrating the more demon blood Samuel would imbibe.”
Harry blinked again, and rubbed his eyes. “I just...did what any wizard would.”
“Donald Morgan wouldn’t,” Castiel pointed out flatly. “Ancient Mai, or Emrys Merlin. Your nemesis LaFortier,” he named off the High Council’s wizards, all of whom had it out for Harry himself. “You are an anomaly amongst magic users, Harry Dresden.” There was a smile in Castiel’s eyes that didn’t betray his mouth. “I would assume it was from Michael Carpenter’s influence.”
“Tell me something, Angel,” Harry said. “Does God truly exist?”
Castiel’s wings twitched, but his face betrayed nothing. “Only if you truly believe,” he said. “The faith of Angels is never enough.”
“Then why keep fighting?” the wizard asked. “Why continue when you don’t even know if you’re doing the right thing?”
The Angel’s head tilted a little to the side. “Why not?” he asked, and, if he were listening, Harry would have heard the hint of amusement in his voice. “I just do.”
“Then...” but Castiel held up one hand and Harry trailed off.
“I have given you a gift, Wizardling. You only get one chance,” the angel mused out loud, “many people do not even get that much. Good luck,” he added earnestly. “And thank you.”
When Harry blinked again, Castiel was gone. But there was, at the foot of his bed, a dark russet brown feather that glowed gold when the light caught it. He placed it in his bedside drawer, and even when the sun finished setting, the feather still glowed.
*End
| Part One | Part Two | Part Four |