CHAPTER 9: A Chill Breeze "No!" Bowman dove forward to where she'd been not a second before. She was gone. Rischa, the little Birdie he'd promised to take care of the moment he held her in his arms as a brand new sprout. Vanished right before his eyes so quickly he hardly realized his heart had all but ricocheted inside his chest. Between his hands, inked into the floor of her room, was that symbol. The same one he'd just ensured was taken out of other homes, had come to his. It glowed with ominous intent, and then faded to the same hue as the others they’d found. Bowman felt like he was watching a smug glare, gloating about how he’d been unable to do anything to stop this. Panic thrummed through his body like the static in the air after a storm. Bowman's wings went rigid and he forced himself to his feet only to stumble backwards against the wall. Birdie was gone. Bowman couldn't breathe. Had to get out. Fly after her ... wherever she went. He didn't even notice his aunt and

CHAPTER 8: Closer to Home Out on the porch, Nia squinted in the sunlight. Her wings, weak and sickly from less sunlight and her own depression, perked up of their own accord. She brushed at her eyes to stare up at the giant face looming so near her home. The first time she'd seen Dean, he was there when she burst out of her home looking for Vel, only to find that her son had all but adopted the Winchesters and brought them home. "H-hello," she greeted weakly. "V-Vel would be so happy to see you here." Though Dean hadn’t expected to see Vel’s mother come out to visit him on her own, he did his best to recover from the surprise. Mostly by scrambling to compose his thoughts. It wasn’t often he talked to anyone Sam’s size without Sam around. Plus, Sam knew he was bad at consoling people. However, Dean could see why she was outside, and had a feeling Sam had done his best to coax her. The wings on her back-- normally so leafy and green like the rest of the Wellwood sprites-- had an

CHAPTER 7: Investigation Bowman prowled the ground around the base of the home tree, searching for a sign along with Sam. He might be able to find the spot if he asked the girl's mother, but if he could avoid bothering her, he would. The woman was distraught after the disappearance. Something finally caught his eye, and Bowman stooped to peer at it. He used a wing to brush a half-dried leaf aside and reveal the dirt underneath. A third of a circle was darkened into the earth. It looked like ink, but Bowman didn't dare touch it lest he risk destroying what remained of the marking. From the looks of things, it was trampled in the frenzy the day before. He straightened to call Sam over, but something else caught his eye instead. Bowman's eyebrows shot up. A young girl glided towards him on dainty wings, her long, twin braids wavering in the breeze. When she landed, her flowing pants and tunic billowed around her small form. Rischa had grown taller in the last year, but she was still

CHAPTER 6: Human Magic Jacob was out of the loop, but amused all the same. Like Dean and Sam, he was glad to see Bowman acting like himself despite what was going on. From the looks of things, he trusted the other "giant," too. "Okay, so we've established that I'm too tall," Jacob quipped, getting Bowman's attention. "Any other news?" It was a sobering question. Bowman shook his head. "Nothing's happened since yesterday." “Well, that’s what we’re here for,” Dean said, shifting the position of his duffel so it stopped digging into his back. “We came packing.” “Plenty of new human magic for you, Bowman!” Sam called out, thinking of the EMF reader Dean had grabbed from the car. He had no idea how the sprite would react to the cobbled-together device, but it had a guarantee to be entertaining. A much-needed distraction from the dire situation. So long as Dean didn’t try chasing the sprite with it. That drew Bowman's dubious gaze to the duffel bag, and Jacob glanced at it too.

CHAPTER 5: A Reunion of Friends The only one in the car that wasn’t influenced by the dreary mood that had fallen over Dean was Sam. Though his heart ached for the loss of their father just as much as Dean’s, Sam had learned to section off that part of him. Instead of letting it consume him, he worked hard to keep his unhappiness to himself and outwardly project a normal countenance. Most of this he had learned when his adopted mother, Mallory, was killed two years back. So while Dean’s defensive mechanism had him lashing out at anyone who tried to get close, Sam’s had him trying to keep the peace and avoid scaring Jacob off. After a few failed attempts to engage Dean in banter that came close to getting him shrugged off at times, Sam decided to try his luck with Jacob and count his lucky stars that the ride was half done, if he remembered the surrounding area well enough. “So,” he started, pulling himself up so he was sitting straight and could see over Dean’s collar to Jacob

CHAPTER 4: A Delicate Balance The coffee maker went off with a cheery ding that stood out against the somber mood that had fallen over the three in the room. Dean didn’t bother getting out of his chair to get the coffee. He merely leaned back, precariously balanced for a few long seconds while he stretched his arm to snag the coffee pot. Sam found himself holding his breath until the chair legs thudded to the ground. He might not get hurt if Dean tumbled over, but it would be like living through an earthquake with his older brother as the epicenter. “I have been waiting all morning for you,” Dean swore as a black waterfall cascaded out of the coffee pot and into his mug. “Nectar of the gods.” A gust of the coffee aroma hit Sam where he sat, and he waved at Dean. “Hey! I think you’re forgetting something!” Dean rolled his eyes with a good-natured grin, beginning to perk up with his goal in sight. “I suppose you can have a drop. Just this once. You did keep me company on the drive

CHAPTER 3: An Awkward Meeting The road trip went long into the night, the miles falling away beneath the Impala’s willing tires. Sam found himself sitting at attention on Dean’s shoulder, unable to relax while the thought of Vel in danger besieged him. There would be no pocket naps on this trip. That sprite kid had looked up to them both, and they weren’t there to help him when he needed it most. Sam could only pray they weren’t too late to help him out of whatever situation he’d fallen into. After a few failed attempts to make conversation, Sam fell into a topic that had been bothering him. “So, pretty wild what we found out about Walt, right?” Dean stiffened for a moment, but had no excuse to back out of talking this time, having spent most of the night fending off Sam’s questions. “What, that curse stuff Celeste said?” He frowned, remembering the sight of Sam and Walt both covered by an iridescent black spiderweb, threads that twined around their very souls, according to

CHAPTER 2: Hitting the Road Dean and Sam stood solemnly in front of the burning pyre, watching the flames darted up into the air. Sam, sitting on Dean’s shoulder, his regular spot, watched carefully for any sparks thrown from the fire. He was ready to dive out of the way if he had to, though Dean stood far enough back to avoid most of the heat. Neither brother spoke a word, simply staring into the burning wood placed around the wrapped body of their father. John Winchester, though he had his flaws, meant the world to both boys. Losing him, it felt like they’d lost an anchor on the way things should be. The way they were meant to be. The world had grown a little colder, the night a little darker. Sam put a hand on Dean’s neck, seeking reassurance and offering it in return. They still had each other. Sam knew that they’d be okay, if they could just get through it together. The sound of Dean’s ringtone cut through the air, as loud as a siren in the silent gathering. Dean couldn’t

Chapter 8: Doctor's Orders (2 of 2) Arriving back at home, Dean was not surprised to find Sam left on his own. The younger Winchester was sitting in a corner, his lap once more covered in the scattered papers that made up his journal. He wasn't writing in them at the moment, but instead carefully reading through. As Dean watched, Sam brushed his hand reverently down one to smooth the wrinkles on it, then set it to the side. After a moment's consideration, Dean left the box of raisins against the wall, giving it an 'accidental' kick for the way it tripped him up multiple times in the cupboard. At this rate, neither of the humans in the flat would think he could slip around undetected. Damn box. At least raisins lasted forever. Dean strode over to his little brother, and Sam looked up at him through messy bangs. "Hey," Sam greeted, his voice hollow. "How's it going?" Dean asked, squatting next to Sam and squinting down at the pages with a keen eye. Dean caught sight of a familiar