Faith: Edited

A/N: I don't own supernatural nor Harry Potter

Chapter 6

BEHOLD, HE IS COMING WITH THE CLOUDS, and every eye will see Him, even those who pierced Him; and all the tribes of the earth will mourn over Him. So it is to be. Amen

~Revelations 1:7~

A man was running on swift legs. Wind blowing his brown hair and short beard wildly. Dirty camo paints whipping around his thighs as he pumped his limbs as hard as he could. Sweat chilled his neck as panicked breaths racked his torso. Ripped shirt beating against his back.

He leaped over the hood of a car. Using his hand to spring him over. Landing on unsteady feet. Running again, hopping over the rotting corpses in the road. A mob of mindless people pursued him as he wove his way through buildings. Bodies decaying, eyes rolled in back of heads, spittle dripping down chins, and hands holding weapons in white-knuckled grips. A bag of supplies smacking his leg with each stride. He glanced over his shoulder as he passed a ransacked grocery store.

Glass littering the street. Crunching underfoot as he passed. He winced but didn't slow as one sharp piece dug through the sole of his foot.

Buildings abandoned, cars turned over, doors opened and belongings left to wither in the middle of the road. Signs for evacuation on billboards, TVs giving off nothing but white noise. The man could see a black cloud in the distance. He picked up his pace, ignoring his injured foot, his life depended on it. He raced through the lifeless city, praying he made it to the checkpoint.

He had thought he had enough time to brave the inner part of the city before the infected showed. He was wrong. They had been hiding in the sewers waiting for their next victim to add to their ranks.

He was almost there, only two more blocks to go. He turned a corner sharply, he could hear the snarling of the diseased behind him. Hot breath at his neck, nails just barely close enough to graze his skin. He refused to let them get him.

Jumping over a downed trash can, pushing carts, and throwing any loose item around him behind to slow them down. He was almost there. Just a little more. He let out a triumphant shout at seeing a familiar head of dirty blonde hair in a military cut in the distance. The head turned toward him and shouted.

"CHUCK GET DOWN!" He called.

Chuck dove behind a car as a hail of bullets cascaded over the mob behind him. Keeping low do the ground he made quick work to cover the ground between him and his friend. As a blonde woman cackled, pulling the tab off a grenade and throwing it at his pursuers. An explosion rocked the street, Chuck could feel the vibrations in the ground, through his feet.

"Come on boys! Dean! Chuck! Jo! Get in!" A middle-aged woman screamed as an RV dragged across the pavement. Swerving to a stop in front of them. Grabbing there bags of weapons they jumped in. Racing down the road, they all breathed a sigh of relief when they lost them. Only to stiffen as a giant black cloud descended on them. Jugs of holy water were tossed into the swarm and Chuck aimed.

He fired, inhuman shrieks pierced the air. But it wasn't enough, the black miasma rammed into the car. Flipping it over, its occupants screaming. Rolling to a stop on its head. Chuck called out to see if his friends were alright. It was silent. Struggling out beneath the vehicle, he crawled on his hands and knees.

Gravel digging into palms as he emerged into the open air.

A pair of feet were the first thing his eyes landed on when he came out into the street. He followed the feet up to long legs, up a strong torso to a pair of burning yellow eyes.

"It's coming!" Then the beast in human flesh threw his head back and laughed.

The black cloud attacking Chuck's body. Acid eating away at his skin. Chuck screamed.

"Chuck! Chuck! Wake up, baby! Wake up!" A woman with long black hair shook the small writhing body of a little boy. The child was sweating profusely, batman pajamas plastered to his small form. Dark eyes blinked open, a mass of curly brown hair slick against his forehead. Upon focusing his young eyes on the woman, the child threw himself into her arms and started crying. Superhero bed sheets bunching around his legs.

The fair-skinned woman rocked the boy back and forth, humming under her breath to calm him. The little boy repeating a single sentence over and overthrew his sobs.

"It's coming mama, it's coming." The woman could do nothing but rock her son as he cried into the night.

London General Hospital

Bobby Singer stood out in the hall outside of Officer Strider's room nursing a cup of coffee. He wore a dark pair of slacks and a white shirt. Thinking over what he learned and the events leading up to where he was. Jim had called him after he had already been in London pursuing a lead to the yellow-eyed demon for John. There had been a case of a burned down house in Godric's Hollow back in 1980.

John had believed the demon was broadening his horizons but was unable to go sniff around for clues due to having to look out for his kids.

He had asked Bobby to go looking and since he had nothing better to do, he said he would. Being that he didn't want to go alone, he asked Rufus to come along as back up.

It was only a week later that he discovered an international retreat of priests and pastors from around the world here in London. Lo and behold, Jim a fellow hunter was there. Catching up with him and discussing his thoughts on the yellow eyes' lead, they promised to get in touch should anything strange come up. A few days later, the massacre at Privet Drive was discovered and Jim had called them in. He told them that the police had gone to the local churches but none of the priests wanted to deal with the case.

Stating that the child was the devil spawn. When they heard this the officials went to the retreat to ask a party who could look at the case objectively to help. Jim jumped at the chance. Claiming he wasn't much for rest when someone required his help especially a child. Then they had all met the boy and the impossible happened. Before Bobby's own eyes a demon was killed. For the very first time in history, at least to his knowledge.

Disbelief still filled him. Add to that the vision he had when the child healed him, well he didn't think it was the work of hellspawn that was for sure. Bobby didn't know what to think. All he knew was he had just laid there when that red-eyed demon made a deal with the child and took him away.

He had to find a way to save him. At first, Bobby had believed McLeod was a fellow hunter, demons aren't known for speaking the language of angels…at least Bobby had never heard it before. He should have seen it. He had seen the red sheen to his eyes but had written it off for a trick of the light.

It was a mistake that he would beat himself up over for a long time yet. Glancing through the window to the black-haired Strider, Bobby vowed to find the child. Even if it meant working with witches. Whether they are natural-born magic users or deal witches remains to be seen. But he would find the boy, no matter how long it takes. Finishing off the last of his coffee, he walked down the hall to the nurses' station, tossing the empty cup in the trash bin behind the desk.

The brunette giving him a dirty look. He shrugged unapologetically.

Turning back down the hall and he strode to the door. Turning the knob, perhaps Striders squib wife could help them find the magic users, he walked into the room.

The Virgin Komi Forests

Ural Mountains, Russia

Ascha, as the child was now called, wiggled his toes in the cool water as he sat at the lakes shore. Trees rose on both sides of the lake, a forest towering behind him, mountains rising in the distance.

Night had fallen, the moon illuminating the ridges of land on the horizon. McLeod sat gingerly next to Ascha, his body stiff. Glancing at the child next to him, who was humming happily beneath his breath, the demon sighed. Agitation causing his hands to shake and shiver. He swallowed, briefly wondering about his sanity. Thinking back to when that heavy power had filled the room back at the station, he wondered what it was.

That power had been cosmic, so full of rage, a writhing mass of righteous judgment. It seared his bones and he had felt a shame so deep he felt he should plaster himself to the ground before it. Unworthy to even gaze upon the child. That power, the child was a ticking time bomb. His very voice, like a hungry mob, all shouting to be heard. It shook the very earth and shattered anything within its range.

It had ruptured his eardrums when he heard it. He could feel his brain start to melt from its onslaught, his hold on his body diminishing. Fear had taken hold of him then, of what, he didn't know. Perhaps an end to his existence. Or to be sentenced to suffer in hell, as he had in the beginning.

Ascha Nanaeel. A powerful name. For a powerful child. Is it arrogance? To claim to be the voice of God? Or God's power?

Or perhaps the child was so devoted to God that he had chosen the name to be closer to Him. The child covets that cross of his strongly enough. Or is the child's power truly a gift from the creator? McLeod didn't know. He had stopped believing in God a long time ago. Especially since in all the time he had been a demon he had never seen proof of an existence other than hell. No angels coming down in righteous fury to smite him for his evil deeds.

No acts of God rising up in human defense. No. If there was a God, he had abandoned humanity a long time ago. At least that is what he used to think. It is why he had sold his soul to a demon in the first place. He figured if he was going to hell anyway, he might as well get something out of it. A few more inches, he considered was a good enough trade.

Perhaps had he met the child when he had been alive? He shook his head. Pointing up at the thousand balls of light up in the dark sky, calling the little one's attention. Glancing up curiously at what he the dark one was pointing at, Ascha tilted his head. Mouth parted in delight as black hair drifted in the cool breeze.

"See those lights up in the sky Ascha? Those are called stars. Stars. Now repeat it with me. Stars." McLeod said patiently.

Ascha laughed. Slowly sounding out the word on his tongue. The ground barelygiving off any vibration as he spoke his first word in English.

"Stars," Ascha repeated excitedly.

"Very good. Now the word for the sky is…" And the two of them, demon and child continued in this fashion long into the night.