Bit of a wait since the last chapter... sorry! Before you go on to read this chapter though, just thought I'd warn you that this chapter is a little different in set up. It's more a filler chapter than anything, which is why it's shockingly short. It will be the last chapter before the shit hits the fan. After this, there will only be five chapters left. If that…

Warnings: References to sex between two males, strong references to drug and addiction, angst, humour (no matter how hard I try, still creeps in), ignoring canon for both fandoms and er... that's possibly it for the time being. Misuse of honey? *snicker* Enjoy.

Chapter Nine

Two weeks. Two weeks since they had killed Soufflet and they had left Bobby's after a week to go on a hunt that someone had rang Bobby about. It was easy. Kill the werewolf, (steal the blood without telling anyone), burn the body and leave. They'd done it within three days and had then decided to carry on looking for hunts.

The entire time, Dean had only spoken to Harry if it was entirely necessary and Harry was about ready to see if he could smite. He'd read about it. Angel's smote the shit out of everything that pissed them off. If he couldn't smite the pissy fucker, then Harry was going to prank him to within an inch of his life. Or until he caved and spoke to Harry.

Actually, if asked, Harry would fully admit that he was wondering if Castiel would forgive him for throttling Dean. The emotionally stunted moron that he was. And he didn't have any excuse for it. Harry was the one that had pumped all manner of chemicals through his veins in an attempt to forget or possibly just destroy himself. Dean hadn't. Which in and of itself was a freaking miracle, given what the annoying man had been put through.

Though, okay, fine, Harry could admit that he was sort of avoiding Dean too. But in his defence, he was also spending a lot of time with Sam (and possibly as a squirrel). But Dean? Dean was infuriating. And clearly had never heard the term 'threesome'.

Alright, so that wasn't Harry's original intention when he realised he was attracted to both Castiel and Dean, but Harry had gotten rid of any selfless behaviour long before, and now all he knew was how to be selfish. And if being selfish got him both the falling angel and the hunter, then he was embracing it heartily.

But right now, they had been called back by a very strange sounding Bobby, telling them he had to tell them something, and Harry needed to shove his selfish wants aside if he wanted to get behind his promise to Sam. Because apparently piskie blood and angel blood in the same veins didn't really help with an addiction to demon blood. Sam claimed he didn't blame Harry for not knowing this, but Harry still felt a niggling tingle of guilt when he realised this. And convincing Castiel to lie to Dean about what was happening to Sam. Harry could attest that begging an angel made you feel shit. He had no idea why Catholics did it on a daily basis. More reason to back up his decision that they're all freaks.

Though, to be honest with it all, Harry wasn't entirely sure why he even cared if Dean knew the truth or not. The only reason he begged Castiel not to tell was because he'd promised Sam. And by now, Sam wasn't really with it. And Harry was just finding it harder and harder to help the man. Some addicts just weren't meant to help other addicts. Harry was one of them.

His veins ached with want.

And there wasn't enough honey in the world to help him with this want.

"Harry, why are you hiding as a squirrel?" Castiel looked at the small green squirrel hiding under the passenger seat of the Impala, before he glanced over his shoulder to see Sam shivering and sweating feverishly in the backseat.

Harry the Squirrel chattered up at him agitatedly, before he nimbly jumped up the angel's leg and body to then sit on his shoulder. He tugged on a clump of Castiel's hair and then looked past him to where Sam was muttering under his breath.

"No, I will not lie about what is wrong to Dean when he asks." Castiel said with a frown, glancing out of the driver's side window to the door of the motel room Dean was currently in. They were all waiting for the man to get himself together and come out so that they could finally get to Bobby's house. However, for some reason that Dean refused to admit, he had been acting oddly and had demanded a separate room at the motel they had stopped at the night before. They all heard him bringing a woman into the room from the room Sam and Harry had agreed to share next to Dean's.

Not for the first time, Castiel felt like he had made no progress with regards understanding how humans worked. He wondered if he would ever understand them fully.

A high-pitched, angry squeak in his ear, and then a sharp stabbing feeling in his ear lobe, made him glance at Harry, who had just bitten him and was glaring at him. Which Castiel thought was probably scarier in his squirrel form.

"Dean needs to know if something is wrong with his brother, Harry." Harry squeaked angrily, then glanced towards the motel room Dean was still in before jumping off of Castiel's shoulder and landing on the drivers side. Seconds later, a green haired Harry was sitting next to him, glare still on his face.

"It is not your place to put Sam in the shit with his brother. You think it's a good idea to make Dean isolate all of us? He is already avoiding you and I as much as is physically possible when confined to a car for endless hours. Tell him what is actually happening to Sam and there goes the last person Dean will have to talk to, confide in, trust!" Harry hissed, and Castiel tilted his head at him, before finally nodding.

"Fine, we shall stick with your excuse."

"Thank you! Besides, he'll be fine soon! Just give him time. It's not that bad!" Harry exclaimed, nibbling on his bottom lip and frowning, before rubbing his hands up his arms as though to warm himself.

"Are you well?"

"Me? I'm fine, don't worry about me. I'm just tired. All this bollocks is keeping me form sleeping!"

"You do not need sleep." Castiel pointed out, getting a venomous glare for his efforts that actually sent a shiver down Castiel's spine and reminded him of just who Harry's father is.

"Not the point. Now, make your self useful and go get Dean. Little bitch needs to stop sulking about shit that isn't all that bad in retrospect, and get a bloody grip. So go, tell him to shift his arse, we want to get to Bobby's soon. Preferably before the sun goes nova." Harry muttered, before huffing, shooting a narrow eyed look at Castiel and then turning into a squirrel. Instead of returning to hiding under the chair however, he jumped over the back of the seat and snuggled up under Sam's chin. Castiel watched blankly as it seemed to calm Sam's near silent mutterings, and Sam unconsciously brought a hand up to wrap it around Harry.

Smiling at the sight, Castiel shook his head and then looked back towards the room Dean was hiding in. Perhaps Harry had a point.

Dean jerked when Castiel appeared in his motel room, but then crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"We are all waiting for you." Castiel answered his silent question. "I was sent in here to ask what was taking so long."

"Cas… Fine, I'm coming. Wait." Dean muttered, shoving his clothes into his backpack and then shouldering it and glaring at Castiel, who hadn't moved from his spot.

"Harry wished for me to ask you what was wrong." Castiel said, and Dean wondered if that was actually true, seeing as Harry should have known what was wrong.

"Nothing's wrong, Castiel. Let's get going, Bobby's waiting for us. Apparently he's found something out that he needs to tell us." Dean said, thinking back on the phone call he got from Bobby earlier that morning, and the strange undercurrents of anxiety in the older hunters voice. Dean had decided to worry about that instead of think about his own issues. Though apparently it wasn't working so well.

"You should be informed that Samuel is not feeling well." Castiel told him just as Dean's hand came to rest on the doorknob, making Dean tense and narrow his eyes.

"Oh?"

"Yes, Harry said that he thinks Sam possibly caught a flu virus. He said that Sam's immune system may have 'taken a beating by the blood'?" Castiel quoted, sounding confused and making Dean snort humourlessly.

"That's all? Sammy's got a cold?" Dean asked, and he winced when he realised that the suspicion he had been feeling had seeped into his voice. Hopefully the on occasion oblivious angel hadn't noticed.

No such luck.

"I believe so. I have no reason not to trust Harry's diagnosis. Do you? He was a doctor after all." Castiel pointed out and Dean sighed, shoulder dropping as he let go of the doorknob and turned to face Castiel, leaning back against the door.

"No. It's just hard not to be suspicious. You know? We watched him hopped up on demon blood, then ketamine only weeks ago. It's hard to shut off and realise that Sam's acting off because he's ill, not because he's craving blood." Dean muttered, running a hand through his short hair, and sighing.

"Perhaps. We should leave before Harry gets too angry. He's currently hiding as a squirrel though he refuses to tell anyone why. Perhaps you can get the answer out of him." Castiel said, tilting his head to the side in the way that told Dean the angel was clearly confused by humans and their ways. It never failed to make Dean's stomach flip for some reason that he refused to look into anymore.

"Yeah, sure, let's go. And Harry's a squirrel because he's a coward that refuses to own up to the shit he does." Dean muttered, turning back round so his back was to Castiel's confused face.

"You should not talk about Harry that way. Regardless of who his parents are, he is still high in status in terms of abilities and power." Castiel pointed out before Dean could open the door, and Dean absently wondered if he was ever going to be able to leave the damned motel room.

"Abilities and power that he can't use half the time without blowing himself up. Not the most intimidating of people, Cas. Look, leave it, alright? It's something me and Harry have to sort out whenever we get the chance." Dean muttered, then yanked open the door before the angel could distract him further with his incessant questions and annoyingly valid points.

Harry spent the whole five hour journey back to Bobby's house, curled up under Sam's chin, ignoring the odd (and possibly a little jealous… or confused, Harry wasn't entirely sure which) looks he kept getting from Castiel, and pretending not to feel the burning glare he was getting from Dean every time he glanced in the rear-view mirror.

Harry was content to stay curled up practically under Sam, who admittedly twitched and muttered like an unconscious Tourettes sufferer, but was also running a temperature and thus was the greatest hot water bottle Harry had ever had to good fortune of cuddling up to. So yes, Harry stayed with Sam.

It helped that in his lucid moments (of which there were only two, much to Harry's disappointment) Sam knew exactly where to rub behind Harry's tiny ears to make Harry turn into a green fluffy ball of goo. It was definitely jealousy Castiel was giving off then. Had he looked for them, Harry was certain Castiel's wings would have been arched back and doing a passable impression of a highly annoyed parrot.

Thankfully for Sam (as Castiel would have probably smote him eventually, if pushed too far, though Harry wasn't entirely sure when that would have been, and ignored the tiny voice in the back of his head that really wanted to see) the lucid moments were few and far between, and if Harry were asked, he'd have admitted that Sam was probably getting worse. They really did need to get to Bobby's, though Harry was unsure if he could convince the two older hunters that Sam had a demonic flu virus and needed to be locked in the panic room for everyone elses safety. Partial truth, partial lie. Unfortunately, the lie was completely ridiculous and unbelievable, thus making Harry try to come up with another idea. Preferably before the hallucinations.

Those sucked for all involved.

So it was, five hours later, that they arrived back at Bobby's house, and Harry jumped out of the car, turning back mid-jump and landing in front of Castiel, smiling widely up at the perturbed angel.

"Hey." Harry said with a wide smile, twirling his finger in the air and then sniggering as he turned back to nudge Sam and help him out the car. Dean's infuriated cursing in the background whilst Castiel just watched the older hunter in bemusement.

"Harry, what have you done to Dean?" Castiel asked, moving forward to help Harry when it looked like he was going to snap under the weight of Sam, who was practically both double the height and breadth of the small piskie.

"Nothing! I've done nothing to Dean, GF."

"Harry! Turn her back! Turn her back now or I will turn you inside out!" Dean yelled, not moving from the other side of the car, whilst Castiel stopped, forcing Harry too as well, or else carry Sam on his own.

"What have you done, Harry?"

"Fine! You're all boring!" Harry said, twirling the index finger of the hand that wasn't holding Sam up, muttering under his breath and making Sam, who was clearly somewhat lucid again, chuckle weakly.

"You turned her wheels into bricks!" Dean shouted, marching around the car to stop in front of the trio. Concern flashing through his eyes as he took in his brother's state. "He gonna be alright?"

"He'll be fine, and I was bored! And hungry. Mischief is a cure for everything. Now, you gonna help us and stop Bobby from shooting me? He's looking trigger happy." Harry pointed out, drawing everyone's (barring Sam, who'd gone back to whispering random things and shivering) attention to the cantankerous man standing on the porch, shot gun in hand.

"You idjits gonna get in here, or you gonna stand out there all night?" Bobby called out to them, and Dean waved him off, before shooing Harry away and taking his place in propping Sam up.

"Come on, let's get Sammy inside and then find out what Bobby needed to tell us." Dean muttered, and then made his way up to Bobby's house with Sam and Castiel, Harry trailing behind them, nibbling on his lower lip and sucking the blood that welled up from the abuse.

"Joyful, joyful." Harry muttered, cringing away from the piskie trap he had to pass by in order to get into the paranoid hunters house. He just knew this was going to be a fun conversation.

Dean watched Harry flutter around Sam once they had placed him in the room he and Dean normally shared when staying at Bobby's and frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bobby, upon seeing the state of Sam, had decided to hold off on telling them what he had found out until Sam had gotten better, claiming that a couple of days wasn't going to make much of a difference.

So now, Dean was watching Harry play nurse to his feverish brother, and couldn't help but make comparisons to when Sam had been forced to go cold turkey with the demon blood the first time. But Harry claimed that wasn't what was happening, and Castiel had backed that, so Dean tried to push it to the back of his mind. It was just hard to do so.

"He gonna be alright?" Dean asked once again, when he noticed Harry had calmed down slightly, and was now just placing a cold damp cloth on Sam's forehead, lips pursed and a frown on his face.

"Dean, he's going to be fine. Christ, you'd think neither of you had ever had a damn flu bug before. Look, he'll be feverish and possibly a little delusional for a couple of days, if that. He's going to feel like shit for maybe a week, if that, and then he'll be weak and tired, but generally okay after that. Your brother's fine, Dean." Harry told him, and Dean felt a shot of guilt go through him when he heard how tired the piskie sounded.

"Bobby said dinner'll be on the table in a bit, if you wanted something. He's made chilli." Dean said, stepping into the room fully and moving to stand on the other side of the bed to Harry, glancing down at Sam, who seemed to be asleep.

"Hmm. Maybe." Harry answered, yawning widely and then blinking in an obvious attempt to stay awake.

"Dude, when was the last time you slept?" Harry looked at him in confusion and then shrugged, eyes dropping back down to look at Sam, fingers snagging in Sam's long hair and fiddling with it.

"I dunno. I'm not supposed to sleep, remember? GF doesn't sleep, Daddy-Dearest probably doesn't sleep, I shouldn't sleep. So… I don't. Things to do, no time to do it." Harry mumbled, yawning again and scrubbing his free hand over his face.

"What do you have to do that prevents you from sleeping? Really? Harry, you're not a full angel, you're gonna need to sleep. Piskies sleep, right?" Dean asked, because he honestly wasn't actually sure on that.

"Yeah, they sleep. Depending on the weather, they sleep a lot or not much at all. The weather we're experiencing now, piskies wouldn't both waking up to." Harry muttered with a shrug.

"So you really need some sleep. Look, go to sleep, I'll explain to Cas and Bobby where you are, okay?" Dean told him, and Harry yawned again then huffed and tugged on his ear lobe.

"Bobby said he had something to tell us though, we shouldn't make him wait. Could be important." Harry pointed out, and Dean couldn't stop himself from looking at Harry strangely.

"How out of it are you? Bobby said he'd tell us once Sam was feeling a bit better."

"Oh, then I guess I'll have a bit of a nap then." Harry said quietly and Dean nodded to him, moving back to the door so that Harry could sleep in the other bed in the room. He was confused however when Harry didn't move from his spot, just swayed a little and then turned to pin Dean with a wide stare.

"Harry?"

"I'll sleep. But I need you to do something for me, Dean." Harry said, sounding disturbingly awake for that moment as he narrowed his eyes at Dean.

"What?" Dean asked cautiously. He wasn't going to agree to anything until he knew what Harry was going to ask of him. It'd never been stated, but Dean suspected that Harry knew more about dealing with rehab and getting over addictions from experience that he hadn't told everyone about. Dean certainly wasn't going to agree to getting him whatever he had been addicted to.

"When I wake up, you and I are going to talk. Avoiding me like you have been isn't only petty and so very fucking annoying, but it's gonna get us killed. So when I wake up, we're talking. Want me to go easy on you, I suggest you have a pot of honey. Preferably set honey. Or if you can find Manuka honey, that might help Sammy boy." Harry muttered, just swaying slightly and making Dean wrinkle his nose in confusion.

"How's honey gonna help?"

"It will, trust me. Honey is full of natural anti-bacteria that'll help his immune system. All honey, just Manuka has the highest content." Harry muttered, and Dean nodded slowly, but before he could ask anything else, Harry yawned, popped into his squirrel form and curled up in the crook of Sam's shoulder. Dean huffed in amusement and then shook his head when Sam seemed to instinctively move to curl a hand around Harry's body, then Dean rolled his eyes and left the room.

"I can't believe my brother has a soft spot for squirrels." Dean muttered to himself, absently wondering is that was possibly the weirdest thing he had learnt in his life.

Probably.

Harry blinked awake when the body he was curled up against groaned in their sleep and then shifted, nearly squashing the tiny green squirrel next to them. Which Harry didn't appreciate. At all. Scrambling out of the death trap called Sam, Harry ran down to the bottom of the bed and nipped on the toe showing, before turning back into his human form with a snigger. Sam whimpered at the sharp nip, and looked at Harry blearily.

"'arry?" Sam whispered hoarsely, making Harry nod and then twirled his finger, making a glass of gin and tonic appear. He then winked and straw appeared in the glass, then Harry crawled up the bed, sat on Sam's stomach and placed the straw to Sam's lips.

"Little sips, Sam. Don't want you getting drunk." Harry whispered, making sure to keep his voice down in the hopes that none of the other occupants of the house heard him. Which, if his sense weren't messing with his head, was just Dean and Bobby. He had no idea where Castiel was.

Sam sputtering and coughing brought Harry's attention back to him, and he pulled the glass away, placing it on the side table before rubbing Sam's chest soothingly to try and stop him choking (and getting the attention of Dean).

"Shh, Sam. Come on. Don't panic, breathe. You're alright. Just a little gin going down the wrong way. Bet that burns like a bitch." Harry muttered, making Sam chuckle weakly through his small coughs.

"Does."

"Ah, good, you with us now? How you feeling? Because… I think I can safely say we fucked up." Harry whispered, keeping his senses open so that he would know should anyone come close enough to hear them, or should Castiel return. Either one being in the 'not good' category of things to happen.

"Yeah. Think so." Sam whispered, eyes fluttering shut as he yawned. Harry glared and then sharply tapped Sam's cheek to make him open his eyes again.

"Before you sleep, we need to work something out. Dean is only going to believe the bollocks we've spun him about the flu for so long. So what do you want to do? Use my blood as a type of demon-blood-addict meth? Dope you up on Ket or tell Dean the truth? None of them are awesome ideas and they are all gonna bite us in the ass at some point. Just depends on how long you wanna be able to sit down comfortably for." Harry muttered, getting a confused, glazed look from Sam for his efforts.

"Your metaphors need more work." Sam muttered and Harry snorted and shook his head.

"Christ, even fucked up, you're a nerd. Gotta work on that, Sammy."

"'t's Sam."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Look, decide, what do you wanna do?" Harry asked, glancing over his shoulder anxiously when he felt and heard the two downstairs shift about, talking about something or other.

"Meth."

"You want the piskie blood meth? Fuck, Kid, don't do shit by halves, do you?" Harry muttered, and Sam chuckled weakly and shook his head.

"Only choice." Sam muttered and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, only choice. Because the other two things I said were just white noise and weren't actually choices at all. The cake is a lie and all that jazz." Harry muttered, but he conjured a knife in his hand with a scrunch of his nose. "Last chance to back out, Sam."

"No." Sam muttered, and Harry took a deep breath then sliced the knife across the fleshy part of his arm, then placed the cut at Sam's lips.

"I feel like I'm acting out a really shitty vampire movie. I may start calling you Bella." Harry muttered, hissing softly when Sam started to eagerly suck on his blood, drawing it out of his body. "Hoo, boy! This is a fucked up rush I've never experienced before. And let me tell you, I've had nearly every type of rush out there."

Harry felt his eyelids fluttered shut as his blood was slowly dragged out of his veins by Sam, then gasped silently and yanked his arms back when he realised he was slowly starting to feel light-headed.

"Quite enough for you, greedy! Seriously, that was fucked up, ever for me." Harry muttered, scowling at his arm furiously until it slowly started to heal.

"Thank you." Sam told him, already starting to sound a little better, if not completely off his head. Something Harry was going to have to work out how to hide from everyone, helpful neighbourhood angel included.

"How's your acting? You're gonna have to act like shit for a little while longer. Sudden miraculous health is gonna look weird even to Dean." Harry pointed out and Sam nodded his head, then sneezed. "Was that put on?"

"N-" Sam sneezed again, several times in succession and made Harry groan.

"You have to be fucking kidding me. Karma is a fucking bitch. Clearly I was Stalin in a past life or something." Harry muttered and Sam chuckled softly.

"Satan's son. Good enough." Sam pointed out, sneezing twice again in succession.

"Shut the fuck up, junky boy. Well, at least you won't have to pretend to be unwell. Hopefully Dean did as I asked. How do you feel about honey?" Harry asked, looking at Sam with wide eyes and making Sam narrow his own suspiciously.

"Why'd you ask?"

"Dean might try to drown you in the stuff."

Castiel narrowed his eyes when Sam and Harry walked down the stairs, Sam occasionally shuddering and then sneezing, which made Harry snicker then have to dodge a weakly aimed swat to his head from Sam. Glancing over at Dean and Bobby, who both looked up when the duo entered the room, he saw Dean immediately zero in on Sam, and make his way over, with… Castiel was confused about why there was a pot of honey in the man's hands. And why Harry seemed amused by it.

"Manuka?" Harry asked, eyeing the pot in Dean's hands eagerly and with a small amount of surprise.

"Er… yeah. How'd you know?" Dean asked, whilst Sam snorted, sneezed, then cringed in quick succession.

"Smelt it. Gimme! You alright, GF?" Harry asked, snatching the honey pot out of Dean's hands, ignoring the squark of protest from the man, and turning to look at Castiel. Who still just felt confused by proceedings.

"What's with the new nickname?" Dean asked, having decided to not try to scold the piskie hybrid, apparently realising it was a lost cause. Castiel could understand that decision.

"Huh? Oh, GF?"

"Yeah, that. What's it stand for?"

"Gateshead Flasher. Seriously, GF, you alright?" Harry asked Castiel, whilst Dean just looked baffled and Sam sniggered and wheezed at Harry's side. Harry looked at Castiel with wide eyes, unscrewing the pot and making a spoon appear with a wrinkle of his nose.

"I am fine, Harry, though I wish to speak to you alone at some point today." Castiel told him, and Harry widened his eyes and sucked on the spoon.

"S'it 'mportan'?" Harry asked around the spoon, and Castiel titled his head as he tried to decipher what Harry had asked him.

"Somewhat." Castiel admitted, glancing quickly at Sam and then back at Harry, whose eyes widened and then he nodded.

"Righ'o!"

"What's the Gateshead Flasher?" Dean asked quickly, before Harry and Castiel could leave, having clearly been trying to work it out for a while now.

"Huh?"

"Gateshead Flasher? How's that apply to Cas?" Dean asked, frustration evident in his voice. Sam sneezed twice and shuddered as he tried to laugh at his brother. "And how long is Sam gonna be wheezing? Give him your honey."

"No. And it applies to GF! All my nicknames apply to him! Stop questioning me! I'm better than you." Harry muttered, hugging the honey to his chest and scraping the spoon over the honey once more.

"I don't get it though. I mean… sure, I can see the Flasher side of things, what with his coat." Dean admitted, waving a hand in Castiel's direction and making Castiel glance down at the coat he always wore with a confused frown. "But… what's a Gateshead?"

"It's a place in Northumbria." Sam said, finally giving up on leaning on Harry and going to collapse into a chair at the table, resting his head on his arms.

"What's that got to do with Cas? Who is the Gateshead Flasher?" Dean asked, and Harry snickered and nudged Castiel to stop him looking at his coat.

"it's another name for the Angel of the North. GF's an angel. He could be northern if, you know… he wanted to be. So… he gets the name. Now, you wanted to talk to me about something, GF?" Harry asked Castiel, placing the pot of honey in front of Sam, and lodging the spoon in one of Sam's hands, whilst Dean huffed and went back to the table, where Bobby had been watching the proceedings with barely concealed amusement.

"Yes." Castiel agreed, then placed a finger on Harry's forehead and took them to stand in the middle of the scarp yard behind Bobby's house.

"What's up?" Harry asked. Castiel frowned at him lightly, then watched as Harry nervously grabbed one of Castiel's hands and started to play with his fingers.

"What has happened with Samuel? He actually is ill now." Castiel pointed out, all the confusion he had been feeling coming across in his tone of voice.

"Ah, that. Yeah. Apparently, that little aftershock from the demon blood and everything, actually did fuck with his immune system, so yeah, Sam actually does have a bout of flu now. Though it's more a cold than anything. Nothing serious." Harry admitted with a shrug, though he still refused to look up and carried on twiddling with Castiel's fingers.

"But Sam is fine, other than that?" Castiel asked, unsure of how he should be acting around Harry now that they had admitted their feelings for one another and had progressed their relationship.

"Sam's Sam. He'll be fine if people stop getting on at him. And that honey really will help him." Harry added with a shrug, linking his own fingers with Castiel's and still staring at their joined hands intently.

"Harry, have you spoken to Dean yet?" Castiel asked, and Harry finally looked up from their hands and smiled sheepishly.

"No, not yet. I told him we'd talk once I woke up, but then… Sam happened and so I haven't had a chance yet. We will. We have to if we want to survive what the hell is going on right now." Harry told him, shrugging and stepping closer so that he was almost leaning on Castiel.

"I think I have an idea of what Bobby wishes to tell us." Castiel admitted, and Harry stiffened next to him, looking up and nibbling on his lower lip.

"Oh? Is it bad?" Harry asked quietly, letting go of Castiel's hand in order to clutch his hand into Castiel's coat.

"Yes, I believe it to be bad." Castiel admitted, and realised that taking comfort in those you cared about wasn't something to be ignored, so he turned and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and rested his head against Harry's.

"So we're fucked then."

"I think so, yes."

"Great."

Harry narrowed his eyes as he watched Dean practically force feed Sam some honey, and in the mean time, ignore the glare burning into his back from Harry's direction. Sam glanced over at Harry, and sent him a pleading look, before Dean nudged the honey pot at Sam.

"Dude, it'll help. Come on." Dean told him, and Sam groaned before letting his head smack down onto the table with a bang. Harry chose that as the point to finally interrupt.

"Dean, you got the honey. Good for you, now you've got to talk to me. You did promise me both, after all." Harry pointed out, watching as Dean's shoulders stiffened and the hunter seemingly refused to turn around to face Harry. Sam sniffled and glanced up through his fringe to watch Dean and Harry curiously.

"Sam…"

"Sam is about to commit fratricide via an imaginative use of honey. I think he's fine." Harry pointed out lightly, and Dean sighed but stood up from the table, finally turning to face Harry.

"Fine, let's go talk." Dean muttered, then spun on his heel and walked out the back door, giving Harry no choice but to follow should he actually want to talk to the pissy hunter.

"Oh, this is going to be exciting. Give me the honey, Sammy, I'm gonna need it." Harry muttered as he passed, grabbing the pot that Sam held out for him over his shoulder. "Cheers."

"Don't bring it back. I hate honey. Or Dean. Right now, it's fairly equal hatred for both." Sam muttered, voice still muffled by the fact he was talking into his arms.

"Yeah, not entirely sure honey is deserving of that hatred. Well, I'm going to go kick some sense into your brother. Any tips?"

"Out and out blunt truth." Sam muttered and Harry nodded, took a deep breath and then left the house.

Harry paused on the porch and tilted his head as he tried to feel where Dean had run to, then headed in that direction, finding him sitting on the bonnet of a car, hugging his knees to his chest as he stared at nothing. Harry had the temptation to point out that Dean currently looked like a pining fifteen year old girl. He rather liked being able to walk however, so he held the urge back.

Instead, Harry stiffened his spine, held back the second sigh that wanted to escape, and walked over to Dean. He silently climbed onto the car to sit next to him, and then looked at the piles of cars in front of them.

"So talk. You wanted to talk, and now you're just sitting here silently. Talk, Harry, or leave me alone." Dean muttered, and Harry rolled his eyes and wondered when Dean became the emo Winchester.

"Dean… what is actually wrong with you? I mean, really? What is your problem? Are you disgusted by the fact that me and GF are together? Or is it something else? Because there's only so much bollocks I can take before I decide to kill you slowly." Harry said, making Dean flinch and almost fall off the side of the car. After flailing for a minute, during which Harry made no effort to help him but was rather proud of his own restraint to not shove him off the car altogether, Dean managed to gather himself together to glare at Harry.

"Dude… what? No!"

"No what? No, don't kill me you freakish angel-piskie hybrid or no, I'm not actually homophobic and have no problems with the fact that you and the other angel in the group are having man on man sexy times? Which one?" Harry asked, opening the pot of honey and scraping a bit of honey out with his nail. "I'm impressed you got set honey."

"Huh?" Dean blinked out of his stunned stupor to stare at Harry in confusion instead. "Set?"

"The honey, Dean. The honey is set. Christ. Quite frankly, I'm shocked that you even managed to get any honey and didn't just stick with jam." Harry muttered, still scraping honey out the pot and then sucking on his finger.

"Jam? I… fine, Cas got the honey."

"I knew it!" Harry crowed, grinning widely, and cackling inwardly when Dean sheepishly grinned and shook his head in amusement.

"Sure, mock away. For the record, I know what normal honey is."

"Clearly you don't. This is normal honey, spaz. Now, back on track, Deano. Seriously, what's up?" Harry asked, turning his attention back to Dean, whose smile faded a little. Dean shrugged and then scrubbed his hands over his face.

"Look… I'm just…" Dean sighed and flopped onto his back on the car, staring up at the sky.

"Dean?"

"I don't know." Dean muttered, and Harry shrugged, scraped more honey out with his nail and then popped his finger in his mouth and sucked it, whilst watching Dean contemplatively. "I don't know why I'm feeling shit, and angry. I don't talk about my emotions and stuff. That's Sammy's job. I just… Chick Flick moments make me uncomfortable."

"Don't they make everyone twitchy? Fucking awkward is what they are. Look, I'll drop it and leave you to mope alone, just… you can't start acting off around us all. It's just plain annoying. So, I'll leave you alone, if you promise me that you'll sort it out in your own head and start acting normally. Deal?"

"Deal." Dean muttered after a small pause. Harry beamed at him, and slid off the side of the car and then turning to look at Dean with narrowed eyes.

"You know… pissing off Sam by force feeding him honey isn't going to help him at all." Harry pointed out, and Dean looked at him and grinned sheepishly.

"I know… but it's amusing. Think he's gone off honey?"

"I think he violently hates honey." Harry admitted, grinning back with just as much mischief as Dean was giving off. "Wanna make it worse?"

"I'm listening."

"Dean!" Dean flinched at Sam's outraged yell, followed quickly by some hacking coughs and sneezes, then a banging sound as Sam made his way to where Dean was currently hiding in the main room, with a chuckling Bobby, a confused Castiel and…

"Harry! No way can you decide to turn into a squirrel when this was mostly your fault!" Dean hissed at the green squirrel hiding in Castiel's coat pocket. Annoyed chattering was the answer he got before Harry hid completely in the pocket.

"I think he said exactly." Bobby pointed out, then paused as he thought about what he'd just said. "Did I just understand a squirrel?"

"It seems we can all work out what Harry is trying to tell us when in his animal form." Castiel pointed out, whilst Dean rolled his eyes and sharply poked the pocket, making it squeak indignantly.

"Dude! Come out and face this like a man!" Dean demanded, poking the pocket again, repeatedly, until Harry looked out and tried to bite him. "No biting!"

Harry squeaked and chattered angrily at Dean, making Dean force himself not to show his amusement at the strange growling noises Harry was making intermittently.

"Just because the big sap won't hurt you in baby squirrel form, doesn't mean you can hide in it every time you piss him off!" Dean pointed out, making Bobby snort and move over to one of the shelves. Dean shot a worried glance over his shoulder, then looked back at Harry. "It gone disturbingly quiet to you?"

Harry squeaked and then glanced past Dean to the doorway, Dean glanced over at Bobby, who was seemingly paying far too much attention to a book that he was reading upside down and then over to Castiel, who had disappeared apparently.

"Dean." Dean would fully blame that squeak on Harry were he to be asked later on. Dean swallowed heavily, snarled silently at Harry before grabbing him and turning to face his enraged brother.

The breathy squeak from Harry could only be described as a laugh was echoed by the choked off snicker from Dean when he saw Sam standing in the doorway, covered in honey from head to toe.

"How…" Dean snickered and then coughed to cover it. "How are you feeling, Sammy?"

"Dude! Not cool! I don't even want to know where you found that much honey, but it's not—Harry! Stop licking my feet, it's weird!" Sam exclaimed, jumping back from where Harry had leapt from Dean's hands to start licking at the honey on Sam's feet.

"Yeah… Harry, that's a little creepy." Dean agreed, and the green squirrel made a disappointed squeak then despondently made his way back to Dean and the coat that Castiel had left behind.

"You idjits done?" Bobby's voice made Dean focus back on where he was and why they'd come here in the first place.

"Sorry, Bobby. You finally gonna tell us what's up? We've been here for three days now, and I think Sammy's fine. If not a little… sweet."

"Dean…" Sam growled, then sighed in relief when the honey disappeared as Castiel appeared back in the room, sending an admonishing glare to Harry, who was now back in human form, innocently twirling his hair around his finger.

"GF! Bobby's gonna finally share with us what has his knickers in a bunch." Harry told the angel, grinning and ignoring the huffy glare Sam was sending his way.

"Yeah, what the Brit said." Bobby muttered gruffly, moving over to his desk with the book he'd been reading. Dean was honestly surprised that Bobby had been reading the book upside down.

"So what's happening, Bobby?" Sam asked, moving to stand in front of the desk next to Dean, whilst Harry skipped over to Castiel and began to straighten the angel's tie, the baffled look on Castiel's face making Dean snigger.

"How's the end of the world sound to you boys?"

Harry sometimes wondered if he spent all his time in squirrel form, that he'd slowly forget that he was something other than a peculiarly coloured rodent and could carry on the rest of his days happily collecting nuts and terrorising small children.

But most of the time, Harry knew that was never going to happen. Partly because the Winchester's and Castiel would never let him stay in his squirrel form for too long, but mostly because that wasn't how piskies worked. Sure, if a wizard spent too long in their animagus form, they\d eventually lose their sense of humanity. But a piskie never actually had any humanity to lose. They could spend years in their animal form, and when they turned back to their piskie form, it'd be like they had never changed. So Harry just kept that little dream to himself and never mentioned it out loud. No need making them all look at him lie he was about to put a gun to his head. Again.

The fact that his father actually had gotten out of Hell hadn't been very well received from any of the mortal hunters. Castiel, as he'd admitted days before to Harry, had already suspected it, had heard whispers from the other angels in fact. And Harry… Harry shrugged and said they should go find another hunt to do.

There really was nothing more they could do. It was too late. Lucifer was out of Hell and they had no way of sending him back.

Surprisingly, Bobby had seen Harry's side of things and had agreed. Dean had eventually accepted that after having Castiel, Harry and Bobby beating the news into him. Sam had been harder to convince, but he had caved in the end.

So they were now heading towards a town that had some suspicious disappearances, that no one could explain, to try and find out what was taking the people. And no one was mentioning the fact that Harry's father was no doubt looking for his prodigal son.

And Harry twitched as his whole body ached with want and need.

Just to numb it all. If only for a second.

A/N – So, anyone guess that it's all downhill from here? This is the chapter I have affectionately called 'Titanic leaves the dock'. Catchy, no? Lol! Still, the more time Harry spends with Sam, the harder it is for him to stay clean. And no one really knows what's gone on in Harry's past. *cackles* Upcoming chapters are going to be fun!

So, good chapter? Yay? Nay? Hope so. And for those that haven't read my bio page… you might wish to do so if you want to learn of any upcoming projects… *grin* Especially if you're a fan of White Rabbit or Creep…

On a side note, Gateshead Flasher is indeed a name used in reference to The Angel of the North. And it really kinda does look like it's flashing the good people of Gateshead... *snicker*

And, Poss? Did it live up to expectations? Will you be happy to know that this has made my muse cling to me like a limpet? *grin* Consider this a very crappy Valentine's present! Lol!