Harry James Potter had thought, given the current circumstances, that going to America to track down his potential father was a fantastic idea. Unfortunately, like most of Harry's plans, there had been very little planning and far too much impulsiveness.

He'd thought initially that the hard part would be in getting out of England and into America undetected. With a target scarred onto his forehead, Harry Potter had been terrified of being caught. So he'd spent most of his energy carefully working out his escape, leaving the little details of what he'd do once he had arrived in the US for later thought. Surely, Harry had thought, anywhere had to be safer than England. What with all of Voldemort's forces hunting him and the light side eager to throw him forward.

How wrong he'd been.

Harry had never known what kind of dangerous creatures lurked in the states. If he had, he might well have taken his chances in Privet Drive. As it was, on the warm evening of the third week of June, Harry Potter was, once again, running for his life.

The almost sixteen year old panted desperately for breath as he threw himself around the corner of a street. He didn't know exactly what it was that was chasing him, having never seen it's like before. But Harry did know that he certainly didn't want to be caught.

"Come, come, little Winchester." The beast crowed into the air. "Let me taste your daddy's blood." The thing practically cooed as it sauntered after the panicking teen.

That James Potter was not his biological father had come as a shock to the teen. He'd left England in search of a man by the name of John Winchester, a man that was supposedly his real father. He didn't know what sort of man his biological father was, but Harry was beginning to think he'd inherited his bad luck from the man. Harry had arrived in Kansas, the last known address he could dig up on his father, and started asking after the man. He'd barely been there a week when Harry had suddenly started being pursued by a creature who apparently could smell his real father's blood in his veins. What John Winchester had done to piss this creature off was another question in itself. Harry swore if he survived the night, he'd do the smart thing and get on a plane heading straight back to England.

Harry stumbled into a parked car, bouncing off the side of it and sending himself sprawling along the gravel. A growl from behind him was all the warning Harry got. His eyes widened and he threw himself into a sideways roll. The creature landed in a crouch in the spot Harry had occupied seconds before. In the dim glow of the street light above, Harry could just about make out horrid jagged teeth procuring from the things mouth.

Letting out another gasp, Harry scrambled back to his feet. He scraped his palms along the asphalt in the process but Harry paid the small pain no heed as he ran as fast as his exhausted legs would take him.

For four nights, Harry had been hunted. His only respite was during the day when he could rest and try to put as much distance between himself and whatever was chasing him as possible. But the thing kept on hunting him. Harry had even crossed state lines in an attempt to get away but no matter where he ran the beast followed close behind. Tonight was no different. Only this time Harry thought he may well have to blow his attempt to remain under the radar and defend himself with magic.

The MACUSA would know instantly he was there, as would the British Ministry given that Harry was still under age. But it was better than dying in the street- torn to shreds by the creature so desperate to taste his blood.

Harry's legs pumped harder and harder but no matter how far he ran he could still hear the tell-tale noises of his pursuer. For not the first time, Harry cursed his decision to ever come to this wretched place.

"Leave me alone!" Harry shouted over his shoulder in between his rasping breaths. He didn't expect to be listened to considering none of the other threats or pleas he'd said over the last few nights had had an effect. It was this distraction that cost him dearly. Harry didn't turn back around in time to notice the pothole in the road. His foot slipped inside even as his momentum carried the teen forward. From his ankle, Harry heard a dull popping noise.

He could do nothing to hide his cry of pain. Adrenaline leant Harry the strength to push himself back up but he could barely put any weight on the damaged joint. He hobbled as fast as he could down the street but knew his attempts would be in vain. Harry ducked into the next dark alley and threw himself behind a dumpster. He tried to quieten his breathing but his chest was aching with the effort. His ankle throbbed along with his pulse and made Harry close his eyes to stave off the pained noise building in the back of his throat.

The sound of the creature coming to a stop at the front of the alley had Harry stiffening.

"I can smell you, little Winchester." The thing purred as it came creeping into the alley.

Harry desperately tried to make his legs move. He tried to push himself up and away from the wall to begin their game of cat and mouse once more but he had no energy left in him. After four nights of running for his life, Harry Potter was both sore and spent. He could do no more than sit back against the wall and listen as the creature stalked closer. Despite himself, Harry could feel angry tears burning the back of his closed eyelids.

How could this be how it ended for him?

After all the hardships and impossible things he'd endured over the years, how could this be the end of the great Harry Potter?

"Oh, I bet your blood will be sweet. Sweet and young, and filled with the strength of your daddy." The creature hissed from the gloom.

A flare of stubbornness came alive in Harry. No, this would not be how he died, he decided. He scrambled for his wand and held it in his lightly trembling hand. His ears straining, Harry could make out the creatures unhurried footsteps. Clearly the thing knew its prey had no more energy left to run. Harry would wait for it to come within range and then he'd attack.

Harry's straining ears picked up on the sudden sound of two more sets of footsteps thundering their way into the opposite end of the alley. He held his breath even as he heard the creature take pause.

"Oooh," It purred. "Now this is a real treat. All of the Winchester boys in one place." The creature said, and Harry could practically hear the smile in its voice.

"Yeah? Bite me, ugly." A gravelly, male voice sneered back in return.

"Oh with pleasure." The creature declared. And with that, Harry could hear it charging toward the other end of the alley. The sound of scuffling, snarling and cussing came from the other end of the alley.

Harry forced his unco-operating limbs forward so he could peer out from his hiding spot. In the darkness he could barely make out the sight of three individual's fighting. One of them was clearly the creature that had been hunting Harry as he could see its sharp teeth. The other two were unknown to him. Whoever they were they seemed to be doing a fair job of working together to restrain the creature.

A flash of a blade held above one of the two unknown's heads. And with a sick popping noise, the creatures head rolled from its shoulders to land with a squelch on the alley floor.

Relief and revulsion warred inside Harry as he collapsed back against the wall. A sob like noise rose from his throat at finally seeing the thing dead. Harry was so relieved to finally be free that he didn't even hear the two men approaching him until suddenly a bright torch light was being shinned on him, blinding him in its intensity.

Harry flinched back against the wall even as he gritted his teeth, ready to throw himself forward.

"Woah there!" A soft voice said. And the torch light was moved slightly downward so that it still illuminated Harry but no longer blinded him. "We're not going to hurt you."

"You hurt, kid?" The same gruff voice as before demanded.

Harry found himself shaking his head as he tried to make out any details from the mostly obscured men. Being behind the only source of light in the alley made it hard for Harry to distinguish anything more than their silhouettes.

"Alright. Come on, let's get you out of there." The kinder of the two voices said, before a hand was thrust into Harry's line of sight. Hesitating only a moment, Harry accepted the hand and let its owner pull him to his feet. A small hiss of pain escaped Harry as he inadvertently put pressure on his ankle. He immediately lifted the joint from the floor and stood balancing on only one foot.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded. He wouldn't be going anywhere with these two men, gratitude for killing that thing aside, he didn't know them.

"My name's Sam," The softer voice told him. "And this is my brother, Dean."

"You're British?" The gruffer voice, presumably Dean, asked.

"Yeah." Harry confirmed with a nod.

"Where're your parents kid?" Dean demanded. Harry shrugged and took a hesitant, hobbled, step forward.

"You killed it?" Harry asked, his attention returning back to the headless corpse now lying at the mouth of an alley.

"Yeah. We should probably get out of here before someone stumbles past." Sam said. He made a movement toward Harry, and the teen jerked backwards from him. Harry was feeling understandably jumpy after the last few days. Hell, after the last few years. "We're not going to hurt you." Sam repeated gently.

He held his arm out toward Harry and left it hanging between them, leaving it up to Harry to close the final distance between them. After a moment, Harry accepted the man's help. Sam helped Harry hobble out of the alley with only the occasional wince as his ankle was jostled.

Harry let them lead him to their still running car, and boldly allowed himself to be eased into the backseat with no protest. Now that the most immediate danger had passed, Harry could feel his eyelids become heavy. Having to be constantly on the run all night, and trying to put as much distance as he could between himself and the creature during the day had left Harry with little time to sleep over the last few days. As it was, exhaustion pulled on his mind.

Even with two unknown, potentially dangerous, men, Harry could not stop himself from sinking into the blackness of unconsciousness.

He was asleep before either of the two men had climbed into the front seat.