Harry Lockhart used to be great. Now he’s amazing (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bad_narrator) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} wariscoming, |
Not so long ago, Harry had been smiling and laughing, teasing Greg and Regina and being teased in turn. Staying upbeat even when things were looking bleak was usually a talent of Harry's. There was no trace of that gentle humor now. This was Harry in the firefight, ready to kill. This was the Harry who'd picked a gun up off a stranger's bed and shot a man five times, the one who'd shot three other men dead on an L.A. highway. This strange, silent killer was the side of himself that made Harry feel cold and heavy and off-kilter, the side that he didn't talk about to anyone. It was the side of himself he needed to be right now.
Something hit him, and invisible teeth tore into his left arm. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he swun his gun around and unloaded it into the hellhound's head. It let go, and dust stirred as it wheeled away from him. He was running out of energy to keep it up for too long, but the hellhounds weren't the only things that could play at being invisible. Harry blinked out of sight while reloading his gun, iron bullets filling every slot in the revolver. Eight bullets, 12.5% chance. He'd done the math right this time; calculators came in handy. Don't get distracted, now. There were more bullets in the pouch on his belt, but he was going to run low soon. Still invisible, he moved towards a nearby demon, muttering the exorcism under his breath. His arm... was bleeding, but not too bad. He'd had far worse; it would keep for now.
There was more bothering him just now than the detached violence he was proving himself capable of. Something wasn't right, was tugging at his being. This shouldn't be his fight; this wasn't his world. Home was with Perry and Harmony, Nick and Chloe, back in L.A., in a apocalypse-less, magic-less, angels-versus-demons-less world. This was wrong, all wrong. He couldn't push the feeling back, despite all his focus. It might not be his world, but he still cared about the people in it, Greg and Regina, Spike, Amy and Rose, John and Sherlock, so many others. He'd still fight to protect them if he could.
He needed to let go of the invisibility again, to conserve his strength just in case. He held onto it just long enough to finish exorcising a demon that had been trying to sneak up behind Amy, watching the dead vessel's body drop to the ground. Visible once more, he turned around, ready for the next monster.
Instead, there was a swirling black vortex, drawing people in. He could see others also too close to the edge, trying to get away but getting caught and pulled in. It could only be the cage they were meant to be shoving Lucifer into. Harry hadn't ever thought that it might take them all with it, but if it meant Lucifer was taken out too... then that was a worthy sacrifice wasn't it? Not that he wanted to die.
The ground dropped out from under his feet, and he started to fall.