Chapter 8: Respect for the Dead

"Nice to finally meet you when you're awake," Teddy said.

"Thanks, kid, nice to meet you too," Dean replied, grinning at Teddy.

The young boy scowled and jumped on the bed, only barely missing Dean's kidney with his knee and leaned closer, as he glared right into Dean's green eyes with his own amber ones.

"… Is what I want to say, but you've been mean to my mum," the child said. "Sam too, but he just lost Jess, so that's normal mum says. But you didn't know Jess. I did, and mum too, so you were wrong being mean to her and if I hear you're mean to her again, I'll hex you."

"Alright, I hear ya," Dean said, nodding his head as he stared back at the boy.

Teddy smiled sweetly at that and jumped back off the bed, moving to stand next to his godmother, who was clearly trying to keep from bursting out laughing. Sam too, looked extremely amused.

"He suffers from some bad influences," Harry chuckled, not even pretending to be apologetic.

"Yeah. You," Dean huffed, sending the girl a mock glare.

"So you really don't remember anything? Not even the Reaper?" Sam asked, prompting Dean back to their previous conversation before Teddy had decided he needed more attention.

"No, nothing. Except this pit in my stomach…" he replied, scowling. "Sam, I think something is wrong.

Before Sam could give a reply, or more than likely ask Harry if she knew anything, as she had returned to the room earlier completely out of breath and slightly panicking, John walked in. Harry's eyes narrowed immediately in suspicion. Something about the man was… off, but she couldn't really put her finger on what it was.

"How're you feeling dude?" John asked his oldest son.

"Fine, I guess. I'm alive," Dean replied shrugging.

"That's what matters," John said, smiling a bit, but Harry could see it was strained.

Suddenly, Harry realized what was wrong with the man and why he felt so strange. His soul was that of a doomed man. Her eyes widened at the realization, and all the blood drained from her face. Dean seemed the only one to notice this, as Sam and John had gotten into yet another argument and Teddy was completely absorbed in it as well, clinging to Harry as he stared at the two arguing men.

"I had some things to take care of," John replied to a question Sam had asked him.

"That's specific," the youngest Winchester snorted.

"C'mon," Dean groaned, but he was ignored.

"Did you go after the demon?" Sam asked angrily.

"No."

"Now why don't I believe you?"

"Can we not fight?" John suddenly asked tiredly. "Most of the time we're fighting, I don't know what it's about. We're just butting heads. Look Sammy, I've made some mistakes but I've always done the best I could. I just don't wanna fight anymore."

All anger drained from Sam's body and he stared at his father in shock and wonder before he turned worried. He wasn't the only one, Dean seemed to be in a similar state.

"Dad, are you alright?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. I'm just a little tired," the oldest hunter spoke. "Hey Sam, would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?"

Sam shook his head, scowling a little in confusion and walked out the door. John turned his head towards Harry, looking at her pleadingly. Nodding in understanding, Harry grabbed Teddy's hand and walked outside as well, allowing father and son a few moments to say goodbye, because Harry didn't doubt that was what it was.

"Go after Sam and make him get you some hot chocolate," Harry told her godson.

Teddy nodded dutifully and rushed down the hall towards the cafeteria to catch up with Sam while Harry sat down on one of the chairs next to the room Dean was in and waited patiently for John to finish so she could have her own talk with the man.

Harry didn't have to wait all that long before John walked out of the room. The Hunter looked up, surprised and apprehensive when the witch approached him, looking very displeased. John was tense. From what he had heard from his sons, Harry was not just any witch, but had some control over Death or something like that. He really hoped they were right about her being on their side, but the fact that he'd tried to shoot her last time they'd met was still standing and he didn't think she was going to forgive him for that just yet. Not that it mattered anyway.

"You stink like a demon," the witch informed him casually.

"S'because I've been hunting one," he replied stiffly, eyeing the young woman suspiciously.

"No. You stink like a demon deal," Harry corrected herself through gritted teeth. "I was there you know, when the thing held up his side of the bargain. Had a nice chat with it."

"You did, huh? Must be nice to talk with something that owns your soul," John growled.

"Wouldn't know, tell me before you die will you," Harry shot back, the picture of nonchalance. "Because that's your side of the deal, isn't it? Your life instead of Dean's? Do you have any idea what that'll do to him?"

"At least he'll live to get over it," the Hunter muttered.

"There is no getting over it, Winchester!"

John tensed, eyes widening in surprise at Harry's sudden outburst. The witch sighed in aggravation and ran her hands through her messy red hair before glaring at John.

"I know what it's like to lose the people you love because of your own mistakes," she spoke. "And I also know what it's like to stand helpless and watch while someone you care about is taking their last breath. I've wanted to do the same thing you did, but no demon would deal for my soul. I was left behind with nothing except my godson, and that hurts, but this, what you're doing, it isn't the answer."

"Listen, I don't know your story, but it sounds like it's a big one," John murmured. "My boys trust you, and as things are now, I don't have the luxury not to either. So I hope we can forget about our differences and that you'll protect them."

Harry gave the man a deadpan look and crossed her arms.

"You shot me, Mr. Winchester," she reminded him coolly. "I'm not inclined to do anything for you at all."

John looked grim but still nodded in understanding. He could have guessed such a reaction honestly. He just hoped his boys wouldn't have to suffer for it. Harry saw him look and sighed.

"Lucky for you, I was already planning to do just that. I'm rather fond of your boys, so you don't have to worry. Sam and Dean will be under the full protection of the Mistress of Death until their time comes."

"Thank you," John sighed, relieved.

"Thank me when they both reach forty," Harry grumbled. "Merlin knows they're too suicidal even for me to save them."

. . . . .

Harry held Teddy's hand throughout the entire cremation of the father Winchester. Sam was crying next to her while Dean stood next to his brother, face grave and stoic as he stared into the flames. For some reason, Teddy was crying too. Then again, it was the second funeral he'd gone to since he was a baby, and those he didn't remember at all.

With a sad sigh, Harry put a hand on Sam's shoulder in comfort. The tall hunter smiled weakly in thanks. After a while, Sam turned his head towards his brother.

"Before-before he-… did he say anything to you? About anything?" he asked quietly.

For a few moments longer, a few moments too long even, Dean just continued staring into the fire with a scowl etched on his face. Harry frowned a bit in suspicion, but she kept her mouth shut as she observed the brothers.

"No," Dean said eventually. "Nothing at all."

The young witch had to bite her tongue to stop herself from calling out the man's bullshit. This wasn't any of her business after all, so instead, she just squeezed Sam's shoulder a moment before moving towards Dean and wrapping her arms around his waist.

One of his strong arms wound around her shoulders and tugged her against his chest as he planted a kiss on top of her head. Harry sighed as she snuggled into Dean and lay her head on his shoulder. She felt horrible for not being able to do more for the brothers and their father. If only she had followed her own destiny, then maybe she could have saved Dean and John would still be alive now.

"Your dad was a noble man," she whispered. "He died doing what he believed in. You should be proud of him."

"I am," Dean answered just as quietly.

. . . . .

After dropping off Sam and Dean at Singer Salvage, Harry and Teddy apparated back home. They were both in a dark mood after the happenings of that day. Fortunately, they weren't on their own in the house as a mop of messy brown hair and kind amber eyes peeked out of the kitchen.

"I made dinner!" the man said cheerfully.

Usually, Teddy would brighten up at the idea of his favorite babysitter's cooking, but this time, he just nodded and moved towards the kitchen at a snail's pace, dragging his feet. The brunette man scowled and looked at Harry questioningly, only to find the witch in a similar state as her godson.

"What happened?" he asked worried.

"John Winchester died," Harry replied quietly.

"That's the guy that tried to kill you, right?"

"A Hunter's reflex," Harry dismissed with a wave of her hand. "He was still the father of Sam and Dean. They're both broken up about it, no matter how hard they try to hide the fact."

The man hummed in understanding and walked up to the young witch, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. Harry hugged back immediately.

"I've got you, princess," the man murmured. "You and Teddy, I'll be here for as long as you need me, alright?"

"Thanks, dad," Harry mumbled.

"Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I honestly thought Lily was going to kill Sirius?"