The Golden Touch 4

Nixie found herself waking up not long after. She groaned, pushing off the coarse fabric bunched around her body. It was tight, and confining. She yearned for the open air and the spacious forest she lived in. But she wouldn't be able to return for some time yet. Not until she found the amulet and returned it to its rightful home.

She blinked open her eyes, gazing around at her surroundings cautiously. The human-who-was-cursed was sitting not far from her with his back turned, while the brother-of-the-cursed was sitting on a bed across the room. They were both watching a strange flashing-with-pictures-box that was facing the beds, with an odd intensity. Trying to avoid catching the attention of the brother-of-the-cursed, Nixie put both feet on the ground, standing up so she could see how bad the damage to her wing was.

The human-who-was-cursed turned at the noise she made while standing. She froze when he laid eyes on her again. She was not accustomed to being near humans, cursed or not.

He smiled. "Nixie, how are you feeling? We were worried."

Uncertain of how to respond, she chose to answer as simply as possible. "Fine. I feel fine." It was not a question her sisters had ever thought to ask. Their bond was enough that they knew when one was hurt or in trouble and so never had need of asking.

"Good." He smiled at her. "We were worried when you fainted. Didn't want you getting worse when we don't really know how to help you."

She let out a small puff of air. "I have no injuries that threaten life."

He frowned briefly, appearing concerned. "Nixie, how did you get in Dean's jacket, anyway? You weren't there yesterday. We would have noticed you."

She closed her eyes, concentrating on her memories of that-which-had-passed. "I came here through a portal. It was not supposed to open here, and I was separated from the other that traveled with me." She stared down at her hands for a moment. "When I arrived here, it was so cold... I had to find shelter. The... pocket..." She gestured up at what he had named a 'pocket,' sitting on the brother-of-the-cursed's chest currently. She shied away from the thought that'd she'd been in there while he was wearing it... so intimately close to a human without even realizing it. She shivered. "The pocket was the only warm place I could find. I did not want to freeze, and with my wing injured like this, I had no other way to stay warm."

The human-who-was-cursed leaned towards her, frowning briefly. This close, she could make out the slight traces of the curse he was afflicted with, its mark etched with a dark webbing on his soul. "Your wing... we put a splint on it. It's the first time we've ever helped a fairy, so I hope we did alright."

"Fairy." Nixie stated. The brother-of-the-cursed turned towards the table the two of them were standing on, eyebrows arching when he saw that she was awake. She tried her best to push him out of her mind, but it was difficult. She had only ever interacted with one other being that size, and those meetings had never gone well, in all the millennia she had known him. "I am not a fairy."

The human-who-was-cursed squinted at her in confusion. "If you're not a fairy, what are you?"

"I am a sprite. A water sprite." She held up her hand in an attempt to control the water sitting not far from her in the bottlecap, wishing to demonstrate. Nothing happened, of course. She slumped down slightly, exhausted at the effort. "Or, I will be when my wing heals."

"Why when your wing heals?"

"The magic. It flows through the wings. Wings broke, no magic." She gently traced a finger over one of her four wings. "Magic comes from the ichor inside, and balance within. Even with one wing broke, balance is gone."

Human-who-was-cursed's eyes widened at this. "Is that the clear liquid that came out of your wings?"

"Yes. It will replenish. And wings will heal, in time." She stared down at the table sadly. "But I need my wings now. He-who-broke-them is near, and he will hurt others as well."

"How do you know?"

"It is who he is. Ever since being banished from this world he had plotted to return. He wants only two things now, to hurt those-who-cannot-defend, and the gold of our father, both of which he believes is his by right."

His eyebrows scrunched together. "Maybe you should start at the beginning."

And so she did.

"A long time ago, so long that my sisters and I have only the vaguest memories, lived a man. This man, he ruled over the ever-beautiful Lydia. He had a daughter, Zoë and a son, Lityerses. He himself was called King Midas."

Human-who-was-cursed blinked, glancing up at brother-of-the-cursed, who had moved over to the table while she was talking and was now sitting only a few feet away from her. "You hear that, Dean?"

"Yeah, definitely." Brother-of-the-cursed - Dean - glanced down at her. "We talkin' the King Midas who could turn anything to gold King Midas?"

"Yes." She was less disconcerted by the human's size now. He didn't glare at her the way Lityerses did. And he didn't give off the same dark aura. The most she could feel from him was cold suspicion and worry for the other human, neither unexpected in this situation. All other emotions were suppressed, an icy determination keeping them at bay. He had such a strong hold on his emotions, she was surprised the worry bled through at all. It must be almost overpowering, to show through such rigid control. Exposure to emotions such as these was a blessing after years of exposure to Lityerses' thoughts.... always of maiming, death, fear, loathing. Hatred. Contempt for all that live. A constant bathing in the dark emotions of mankind. She had hated being around him while he bled such dark emotions. There were many times she thought he did it purposely, but he did not know she and her sisters could touch emotions, so there would have been no reason for that. It was just who he was.

With any luck, this human - Dean, not human, she repeated silently to herself - would be able to help her. Especially since her magic was now gone, and she would be vulnerable in a way she and her sisters never had been before. "King Midas loved all that was beautiful. His beautiful daughter, the luscious roses that grew outside in his courtyard (he cultivated each and every rose himself, not trusting any gardener with such delicate beauty). But his great failing, was that he also craved the beauty of gold. He felt there was no other beauty in the world that was so pure, so clean. He wanted it in everything."

Human-who-was-cursed glanced up at that. She carefully repeated his name in her mind - Sam - not wanting to accidentally offend by not remembering his name. She needed their help. His emotions were far softer, more... innocent than his brother's. In him there was no rigid, unbending control. She could feel an eagerness to help, a desire to prove himself, worry for her... so many, and all overlapping. And at the very edge of his being... fear. A constant, gnawing fear. She frowned at this, for it didn't fit in with what she'd seen of them. The trust they'd shown each other in their interactions. A trust she shared with her sisters, and her sisters alone. Remembering herself, she focused back on the story, carefully blocking out the impressions she was getting from the humans. They would only serve as distractions right now.

"There came a time when King Midas found the old Satyr Silenus wandering. He was lost, and drunk. Recognizing Silenus, Midas treated him for ten days and ten nights, offering him hospitality very generously. On the eleventh day, he returned Silenus to Dionysus and was rewarded. He was told that whatever he asked, they would grant." A careful shift in position to move her injured wing to the side interrupted her telling for a moment. "He asked for the power to turn everything he touched into gold."

Here she paused to drink some more of the water. It was slowly returning her strength to her, thankfully. But in order to truly heal, she would need the fresh water as it raised from the earth in a spring. That would heal her wing and her body, if she was able to find such a spring here.

"At first he was overjoyed, as all know. He bragged, he celebrated, he enjoyed. But then he had his servants lay out a feast, in celebration of his gift. He found that no food could pass his mouth without turning to gold. Even when he was fed by a servant, the food turned to gold. Even his water turned to gold ice when he drank. Returning to his castle, he went to tend his roses and found himself unable to do even this, as his beautiful soft roses, so full of color and life turned cold and dead in his hands. His daughter, Zoë found him in the gardens, distraught. She wanted to cheer him up and went to wipe the tears from his eyes. Naturally, this did not happen. Before he could stop her, she turned to gold as well. A small, sad statue. Midas sobbed, knowing it was his fault he had lost his daughter. His greed, his lust for gold that took her from him."

She sat back, glancing up at both of the humans, small and large. They both were entranced by her story, faces rapt as they leaned in. Sam and Dean, she repeated to herself again. She did enjoy the sound of their names, so different from the names of her and her sisters. "Here, he prayed for deliverance. He sobbed over his daughters frozen form, begging Dionysus to save him from what he now knew was his 'curse.' She took pity on him, this man who had helped Silenus, and told him to wash in the river Pactolus. And for him to take his daughter and bathe her in the waters there. This removed his curse, and returned his daughter to flesh."

"But this is not the end of our story. The power given to him... The golden touch, as it was named was not destroyed. Dionysus placed it in an amulet, and gave it to my sisters and I for safekeeping. We were born of the tears Midas cried for his daughter, despair become hope. And so, even though Midas is our true father, we are called the Daughters of Zoë, for it was her loss that gave us life. Now, as for the amulet, for human to hold, either in hand or around neck would be given the power of Midas. Because of how dangerous this was, we were to keep the amulet in our world, a realm apart from any other, safe from misuse. The realm Aeternum."

She closed her eyes.

"But then we have Lityerses. He was not content to be the good son, and rule a kingdom when his father left this world. He wanted gold, and riches. But no work. He thought his father was a fool to let the amulet go the way he did. He did not understand Midas's love of his daughter, his care for the roses he brought from seed to bloom. He cared for battle, and gold, and the taking-of-women-with-force. He searched tirelessly for years, and found a way to our realm." She met first Sam's eyes, then Dean's, unafraid. "Our realm... to cross into it makes you not-human. You become more than you were. Or less. He lost the ability to age when he stepped over the border. He may have lost other ties-to-what-was as well. Sensing this, the goddess Dionysus closed the portal behind him, banishing him to our realm for eternity. Ever since then, he has sought out both the amulet and the portal. And now, he has found both."

Sam was the first to regain speech, licking his lips to moisten them. "But... what does he plan?"

She shrugged. "Gold, I imagine. And death. He had always been oddly preoccupied with both. I hear before he crossed into our realm he was called the Reaper of Men, he sent so many souls to the land beyond before their time. I doubt time has changed that."

Dean leaned down over them both. She froze, still fearful of his size. Her good wing twitched with her nervousness. But his eyes shone with kindness, not anger. Surprisingly, his emotions reflected the same. The suspicion had softened at some point during her story. "How can we stop him?" He asked.

"I can stop him." She glanced over her shoulder at her injured wing. "Or, I could stop him, if my wing heals. My sisters and I are gifted with the power of Pactolus, to return any that have been turned to gold back, and we will not turn to gold if we are touched. It is our birthright." She met Dean's eyes evenly. "You would not be so lucky. If he touches you or... Sam... you will turn to gold."

"How long until your wing heals?" Sam asked softly.

She responded sadly. "Weeks, if not longer for this type of damage. Or, I need to bathe in a freshwater spring. Water sprites can use water to heal if the water is pure."

Sam closed his eyes thoughtfully for a moment, then glanced up at Dean. His emotions ran a spark of determination, blocking all others. It was a light in a tunnel of darkness, pushing away the shadow. "Well, I guess we should find a freshwater spring as soon as we can."

Surprised, she glanced up at him. "You would find one for me?"

---

Lityerses found himself getting more aggravated by the minute.

First, that interfering little water sprite had thrown off his portal. Instead of coming out near his father’s old kingdom, he had appeared in a strange land cut off from his goal by an entire ocean of water.

Next, he had lost his weapon in the transference. When he was trying to stop the little sprite, it must have fallen from his jacket. It would be missed. The weapon had been made with gold so his touch would not have changed it at all. He would regret its loss.

Now, he was seeking out one of his main goals: people. People to kill, people to worship him and his power, people to rule over, as was his right. So what if he wasn't near his father’s old kingdom... he would create his own kingdom here from scratch. It would be bigger, and richer, and more powerful than his father’s ever was.

Emerging from the thicket of trees, he came to a landscape with a strange ground.

It was thick, and hot and black. His feet burned even through the soles of his shoes when he stood on it. Parts of the black were divided up by strange dark yellow lines and stripes. They were orderly, and some of the divisions had metal monstrosities resting in them.

Confused by this scene, Lityerses walked forward, coming up to one of the large metal contrivances. He did a careful circle around it, seeking out anything familiar. Nothing sprang to mind. With a small shrug, he reached forward with his hand.

"Hey! Get 'way from that!"

Lityerses turned, and saw a man running at him. He smiled. Now this was better. Humans he knew. Humans he could handle. And this human looked angry. Even better.

"What the hell're you doin wih muh car?" The man slurred at him. Lityerses didn't respond right away, content to let the man make the first move. Thousands of years stranded from his home had taught him patience.

It didn't take long. The man came right up to him, getting in his face. Lityerses hid his smile as the human shoved his hands against Lityerses' chest. And again right after. He feigned being hurt, and put his hand out to catch himself against the car.

It was like the ripples in a pond at first. Where he touched the car was like dropping a stone into still waters. Gold spread out, overcoming the black finish of the car, taking over the windows, everything. Even the rubber tires followed suite. The entire transformation took around ten seconds, leaving a beautiful golden statue in its place

"W-What?" The man cried out. For a moment he almost seemed as though he was going to collapse. Then he turned to Lityerses and went for his throat.

This time, instead of taking the blow, Lityerses caught the man's fist. The change happened the same way as it had the car, with one difference. Since the car had been inanimate, there had been no reaction. Here, the man had enough time to pull his fist away, staring in disbelief as the color continued its inexorable march up his arm. He started to scramble to get his jacket off, which turned into a failed attempt, for on the parts of his arms that were gold, the jacket had become a part of him. The expanding gold wavered as it hit his chest, shooting out in all directions.

After that it was over.

A lonely statue of a man stood there in the parking lot, desperately taking off his coat next to a matching statue of a car. Both were cold, unmoving. Lifeless.

Beautiful.

Lityerses smiled.

---

Normally, Dean wasn't a fan of any supernatural creature on principal, but he was starting to find his outlook was changing.

For one thing, his own brother couldn't exactly be called human anymore. As much as Dean wished he could will it to be otherwise, Sam was what he was. And it wasn't his fault. One day they might find a way to break his curse. Dean had spent every minute he could on the computer, researching anything he could find on curses without Sam knowing. He didn't want Sam to know how desperate he was to find a way to break it. Sam accepted things the way they were. Dean couldn't bring himself to do the same. And so far, there was no information he could find on the type of curse used on his brother.

He was starting to find it was just as likely that Sam was going to spend the rest of his life smurf-sized. It was just... Sam's size might come in handy on occasion, especially if they needed to break into hard to reach places, but it twisted Dean's heart at the thought of not being able to fix Sam, and of how dangerous even he could be to his brother on an everyday basis.

And from what he'd seen of the other people Sam's size, they were nothing like the monsters he hunted. They took care of each other, they didn't try to hurt anyone, and they were even willing to raise up a child that wasn't theirs. All they did was try to survive in a world set against them. He knew humans who wouldn't do as much for each other.

Sam had told him, not too long ago, that there were hunters that went after the tiny little communities. They were tracked by reports of missing items, people catching glimpses of them from the corner of the eye. Entire communities that never did anything to hurt anyone, never did anything but try to survive, destroyed in an instant. Dean could understand now why Sam's father had been so angry at him for letting Dean know he existed - he'd known Dean was a hunter and must have feared the same would happen to them.

All he'd wanted to do was protect his family and friends from a huge threat they were helpless in front of.

Dean himself.

He cringed from the thought, knowing how true it was. How easy it would have been for him to hunt them down. Child's play.

But in the end, Dean could never have done anything that would hurt Sam, especially not kill his family. No matter how different they were from him. He felt sick to his stomach even thinking about it. He wished he could talk to them... tell them that no matter what, Sam's family was his family. Size be damned. Nothing was more important than family.

For a moment, Dean stared down at his hands, relaxed on the table. He was very good with his hands… an expert mechanic that could fix most cars, deftly able to pick locks, he’d long been crafting his own weapons and bullets… But at the same time he couldn't help thinking about what they looked like from Sam’s point of view. Far bigger and faster than he was, able to pick him up against his will, restrain him effortlessly...

Dangerous.

Dean closed his eyes regretfully. If only things could be different.

Now that he knew about the tiny people, he would never be able to harm them the way others did so callously. He knew there were so similar, so human in the way they lived, that they didn't deserve that fate. He still wished he'd been able to thank Walt and Mallory - the couple that had adopted Sam, saving his life and raising him as their own - for what they'd done. For what they'd lost for Sam.

For what they'd given back to Dean.

So he wasn't completely against helping out a fairy - sorry, a sprite - track down a cursed amulet. Especially when they'd be saving lives if they helped her.

He just couldn't bring himself to trust her as completely as Sam seemed to, though.

For the moment, Sam was still talking to the girl. He seemed happy to have someone his size around. Dean was sitting at the other end of the table to give them some space. Even Sam hated it when he hovered worriedly over them. The tiny sprite was still giving Dean sidelong glances whenever he moved. She was very easy to startle, he'd found. Understandable when someone had crushed your wing in their hands not long ago, even if it hadn't been Dean. So he tried to stay in one spot as much as he could while still being able to hear what they were talking about. He knew Sam would get pissy at him if he tried to hover any more than that, especially after his earlier outburst. He still felt awful about trapping Sam against his will, even if he knew it was for the best - better a bitchy Sam than a dead Sam, any day.

And it had been so weird, staring down at his clenched fists and knowing that his little brother's entire body was in there. Trapped. Sam's best attempts at escape hadn't even been able to budge one finger. The feeling of his tiny arms and legs punching and kicking desperately against the fingers walled around him had at most tickled. It gave Dean a pang of fear at the realization of how vulnerable Sam would be if anyone other than Dean got their hands on him. The power Dean had had over Sam in those short moments had been terrifying. He wouldn't even trust his dad or Bobby to hold Sam with him so defenseless. Any hunter, really. Nothing was more important to him than Sam's safety.

The TV was still on, playing through the nightly news. Dean's stomach rumbled at him, reminding him they'd skipped breakfast and lunch so far, and all he'd had was a granola bar the entire day. His stomach seemed to be of the opinion that this was a complete atrocity and insisted on reminding him every chance it got. He put a hand on it, hoping Sam and the sprite hadn't noticed. Sam always got twitchy around him when his stomach growled, and he couldn't imagine the sprite reacting any differently. He sighed. It wasn't like it was his fault he was so much bigger than his brother. He hated the fact he could scare Sam just by sitting there.

Trying to distract himself from the thought of food, he turned his attention to the TV. And just barely caught the current headline before the newscast switched stories.

Gold statue of a man and a car found in Biggerson's parking lot, thought to be hoax.

"Sam!"

---

Lityerses kept to the shadows, watching the humans swarm over his statues like locusts. His face was stretched into a facsimile of a smile, long unused to such expressions after a millennia spent in the lonely forest realm of the sprites. These pitiful little humans had no idea what he was capable. This was only the beginning of his golden kingdom.

He turned from the scene. These humans were of little consequence to him. He needed to find a base to build his kingdom from. And more than anything, he needed to find the meddling little sprite and put an end to her. She was the only one in this world with the ability to interfere with his plans. He couldn't have that, there was too much work to do.

Before he was able to walk away, a voice cut through the background noise. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

Lityerses turned in surprise. There had been no one near him a moment ago. A man was standing where he'd been moments before, hands in his pockets and legs spread out. He gave Lityerses a sneering smile, and for a moment it seemed as though his eyes reflected black.

Lityerses cocked his head thoughtfully. The man's appearance was strange enough to pique his curiosity. "Who are you?" He asked.

"Let's just say I have... similar interests." The man sauntered a few feet closer, but stayed far enough to stay out of Lityerses reach. "You have a... unique ability."

Lityerses tracked him with his eyes. "And what of it?" He demanded. This conversation was quickly boring him. Once the man came within reach, all it would take was a touch...

"You want it all, don't you? Wine, women, song... the whole deal. But I can tell it's been a while since you were here last... things have changed a bit since the last time you were earthside. You could say I can offer you... guidance." He stopped his pacing for a moment to gaze out at the golden statue of a man and his car, still surrounded by the press and police. "Friendly advice, you could call it."

Lityerses narrowed his eyes. "And why would you do that? Just out of the goodness of your heart?"

"Heh, of course not. Let's be honest with each other here. I just want a few... people removed. Nothing beyond your abilities. That touch you have... quite powerful. One brush of your hand and certain annoyances can be removed. Certain dangerous annoyances, to you and me."

"I'm listening."

The man walked past him, quite close this time. "First, we should retire to somewhere more... private."