A/N

Thank you to Icy Icee, Christine, stargazer 100, guest and appletopine for the reviews! There's a few chapters before us before this fun, fun story wraps up and the new one begins!

Now, before anything else, on May 7th, I'll post a poll on my deviantart and the brothers apart tumblr (link found on my page). You can vote for the story you want to go up next! Included in the choices this time will be the first story to each of the following AUs: Brothers Found, Brothers Lost and Brothers Adopted. Please feel free to vote, and the votes are open to anonymous asks as well so you don't need a tumblr or a deviantart! Just send them in. (Due to the nature of anonymous asks, if I receive any votes spammed quickly, I will disregard all but the first). No votes are accepted before I open the poll, you will need the story name to vote for it. Voting will end midnight May 14th.


Bowman sent the human a scathing look for his trouble. " 'Fly-boy? ' Don't these names get old for you?" he asked exasperatedly. Once again, Bowman was not completely sure if it was a bug joke or a nod to the fact that he could fly. He chose to believe the latter and didn't ask.

Sam let himself relax as the world rocked around him, Dean's steady gait reassuring after all the excitement. "Dean will never give up on his nicknames," Sam couldn't help laughing as Bowman griped about it.

Humans, Bowman thought with a roll of his eyes.

He turned to lead the way away from the decayed area, the wolf graveyard that would most likely smell of rotting beasts for days if not weeks. Bowman would be sure to warn anyone wandering out not to come in this direction lest they risk the stench knocking them right out of the air.

He almost worried the decay would have spread to the spot he was aiming for. But as he went, he started to see green on the plants again, and he sighed with relief to brush past a few leaves that still held a vibrant green hue. They felt good against his wings, a gentle reminder that even this could heal. There were a few birds tentatively chirping away, no doubt noticing the human that trudged through the woods.

Bowman glanced back, still amazed that Sam was so casual about being in Dean's pocket. Sure, he was probably more comfortable there without wings to get in the way. But it still felt like an awful lot of trust, to let the larger human confine him that way. Bowman continued on, thoughtful.

He led them to a rather small clearing that had a wide, shallow depression in the earth. It didn't hold water all the time, but right in the center the dirt was still damp from the last rain. "This ought to work, right? You can make your fire and it should have a harder time spreading." He landed on a low branch, quickly settling to a seated position on it facing the clearing. He was only at about three quarters of Dean's height there, but he was beginning to feel the soreness of the fall he took.

Bowman was extremely lucky. He'd been thrown from the lich's grasp quite far, but layers of dead leaves and plants had broken the impact instead of breaking him. If not for that luck he might not have gotten up when Sam came to get him.

When they reached the clearing, Dean passed Bowman's tree, intent on finishing the job before the thing regenerated or something. The last thing any of them would be able to handle was round two, especially with Dean almost out of ammo for his colt. He had plenty of shotgun shells on hand but didn't want to risk firing it anywhere near Bowman.

The remains were quickly tipped into the shallow bowl in the earth, carefully arranged so there wasn't anything that could go up in flames close by. Grabbing his lighter fluid, Dean soaked the bones with it, the dry remains soaking it up the same way plants soaked up the sun. He lit a match, staring down at the remains of such an evil creature, it would take an entire village of innocents for its own gain.

Dean shook his head as he let the match fall. Bowman opened his mouth to comment that soaking the tattered cloth and bones in liquid would not help at all. But then the match reached the pile and the lich's remains burst into flames, which astounded the sprite. Liquid was supposed to stifle flames! Just as effectively as Dean's heavy boots, liquid was one of the ways Bowman 'knew' a spark would be put out.

"Imagine all the work that thing went through for immortality, only to end up looking like a reject from the auditions of that movieScream," Dean mused.

"What movie?" Sam asked, confused. Flames burst into existence, sending a wave of heat at the brothers.

"You know... Scream? Guy in a mask, kills a bunch of..." Dean trailed off at the lack of recognition in Sam's face. "We are so having a movie night after this case," Dean declared.

"Whatever you say," Sam said with a smile, willing to humor his older brother. Watching movies was one of the things he enjoyed most with Dean. While one was on, he almost always forgot he was watching it with a giant that towered over him. They felt like normal, regular guys just hanging out. He didn't think he'd ever turn down a movie suggestion from Dean, especially since Sam didn't have any idea of most of the movies that were out there.

They stood there, watching the flames flick up into the darkening sky above. Sparks spat out, carefully observed by Dean, making sure the vulnerable forest wasn't in danger. He ended up having to scuff out an ember that jumped out of the fire, grinding it into dust under his boot. Neither brother talked for a bit as the flames continued.

Bowman didn't understand the movie reference, either. He was mildly pleased that he wasn't the only one in the dark on that one. But he didn't voice it, because he was busy keeping an eye on Dean and the flames that consumed the last shreds of the lich. Oily smoke drifted away from the flames, dissipating in the open air and taking any traces of foul magic with it.

Bowman was tired and sore, but mildly curious, and dazzled by the flames flickering in the clearing. He scooted off of his perch and glided a little closer. He landed on the ground almost four feet from the open flames, watching them cautiously with constantly-twitching wings. He'd been closer to a fire than this, and the heat was oppressive and terrifying. From this distance, he felt like he was in the sun on a particularly scorching day.

He looked up, noticing how Sam and Dean intently watched the fire. Apparently they did this regularly. They were used to it. That by itself was a bit ... strange and alarming. Bowman flew into the air, avoiding the sparks that lazily spiraled in the evening breeze.

"Y'know, people keep telling me humans don't have magic. But you just turned liquid into fire. How is that possible?!"

Sam suppressed a smile, used to the sprite's strange questions by now. Dean shifted in place as Bowman talked, crossing his huge arms right below Sam. "It's a liquid that we call an accelerant," Sam explained. "A lot of animals have a... kind of oil or grease in them that can turn into a flammable liquid. It's kind of like what Dean's car runs on... only that's called gasoline. Mostly it comes from the ground, from ancient animals long dead that turned into oil long ago. It's very useful, but very dangerous if the wrong person gets hold of it."

Bowman frowned in concentration, doing his level best to keep up with Sam's explanation. Some of it sounded a bit far-fetched, but who was he to say so? Liquids that actually fed flames rather than dousing them sounded like something humans would come across.

Sam shifted in the pocket, trying to keep an eye on Bowman. The sprite's movements were sluggish from the way he'd been earlier, more relaxed. "If you're getting tired, why don't you come hang with me and Dean?" Sam jutted a thumb at the shoulder overhead. "You'll always be welcome here after everything you've done to help us."

Dean didn't disagree, his face neutral as he watched Bowman avoiding the last few flickering sparks that rose into the sky. Sam knew his brother well enough to know Dean wouldn't mind, although he rarely offered, used to just letting Sam stay where he wanted.

Bowman glanced over at Dean's shoulder after Sam pointed it out. He was tired, after everything. He'd hit the ground hard a few times, not to mention been grabbed by a monster. And he'd had his spiritual connection hijacked and clawed at by the same monster, probably the greatest pain a sprite could endure.

"Thanks," he answered almost sheepishly. He fluttered over, careful not to slap Dean in the face with one of his wings as he landed. He wobbled a little at first and instinctively flared his wings open, bumping one of them right into the human's neck. "Sorry ..." he mumbled, getting enough balance to sit down without sending himself tumbling. He huffed quietly and settled in, wings hanging open to let them relax for once.

"Don't worry about it," Dean chuckled as the sprite got settled. He'd almost thrown a hand up to help Bowman get settled, but stopped when he recalled the sprite probably wouldn't react like Sam to a huge hand intruding on his space. It was a little discouraging when even a helpful gesture like that could be misconstrued as an attempt at catching the little guy. After everything they'd been through together, Bowman was a part of their team, even if it was only for one hunt.

Dean kept his vigil by the fire pit until the flames died down, leaving behind blackened, crumbling bone and ashes born of the cloak. Digging his boot through the ashes, Dean made sure the embers were out and tossed more dirt overtop to stifle any that remained. He remained mindful of his small passengers, careful to not knock Bowman from his perch or bump Sammy in his pocket.

While the remains were burning down, the sun slipped to the horizon, casting long shadows through the small clearing they stood in. Dean shadowed his face with an arm, estimating the daylight left to them. It would be dark in an hour, maybe a little longer if they were lucky, but nowhere near as long as they'd need to in order to make it back to the Impala. Normal wolves and other animals would be out, making the trip more dangerous than he'd risk willingly with Sam (though he'd never admit it to his little brother), so he glanced down at Bowman on his shoulder. "You think… is there a chance we could stay in your village overnight? Just so we don't have to worry about any animals catching us off guard during the night. All I'd need is a place to stretch out, nothing more. Sam too."

Bowman jolted slightly and looked at the face angled in his direction. He'd nearly dozed off where he sat, watching the liquid-turned-fire die down and catching a few rays of sunlight as he did. His wings had even subconsciously angled themselves so they captured more light. He folded them hastily and blinked the focus back into his eyes.

"Yeah," he answered quickly. He couldn't imagine anyone in the village wanting to turn the brothers away after everything they had done. Regardless of whether they were nervous about Dean's size, and even despite a few parents being irked with Bowman, they trusted him and his judgment about humans. He had the most experience with them out of any of the sprites, having met both human cruelty and kindness.

"There should be room somewhere for you to lie down safely. Animals don't really wander close to the village, we keep it pretty safe that way." Wolves, and even things like raccoons, weasels or snakes had to be carefully guarded against lest they overrun the sprite homes in the trees. "I uh, don't know how much we have for you to rest your head, though. Seeing as it's giant." He smirked at that, to indicate he was teasing.

Dean snorted. "Lucky for you," he said jokingly, "I can just curl up my jacket to rest on. So I won't need to find your house to use as a pillow." He turned away from the pit of ash, heading back into the trees.

Bowman shot Dean a flat look. "Good luck getting any of our houses out of a tree, human ... they're part of the trees, and trees are blasted stubborn." The living wood of sprite homes was sturdy, but they swayed in the breeze just like any normal branch. It was not easy for them to get knocked loose. Bowman had never heard of even the worst thunderstorms breaking them.

Sam stayed quiet during the walk, and Dean had to check a few times to see if the little guy was even awake anymore. But Sam continued to hang his arms over the edge of the pocket, content to watch the passing scenery quietly. And, Dean realized, that might be all Sam wanted.

For years his little brother had remained in a single motel, part of a loving family that cared for him greatly, which Dean knew for sure after meeting Sam's adopted father, Walt. For a man that was smaller than four inches tall, he was a stern figure most of the time. The facade only cracked rarely, like around the children (when they weren't watching), or that heart-stopping moment with John that Dean wasn't sure he could forgive. Scaring Sammy's father... a man who had given Dean back everything that mattered in the world... how low could you go?

All those years Sam had been cared for and kept as safe as possible, but he'd been trapped, in a very literal way. No way to leave that motel, hell, most of the time no way to even read a book. Now, with Dean, Sam could explore the world, even if it was a bigger and scarier world than in his childhood. But another part of that was what Sam was... most days it wasn't safe for Sam to just hang out on Dean's shoulder or even just hanging from the outside of a pocket like right now. Instead Sam would wait patiently, hiding inside a pocket, listening intently to all the goings on around him in the darkness of Dean's jacket. Safe but stifled.

Today there was no reason for Sam to hide. No reason to be afraid. Dean hoped that Sam made the most of it. Times like this were always few and far between in the life of a hunter. Which Sam was, and no one could ever tell Dean differently.

Bowman had to pay a lot of attention in the dark, to make sure Dean was on the right path. More than once he had to point out a stone jutting from the ground, but Dean at least seemed aware enough to step over them without trouble.

Stepping over stones that might reach over a sprite's head. Bowman was decently tall for his kind, but whenever he spend time around humans, he felt so incredibly outmatched. Jacob was bulkier than Dean, but he couldn't remember how tall he'd be by comparison. In the end, even Sam, sprite-sized human though he was, was much stronger than Bowman. And Dean had somehow managed to not only grab Bowman right out of the air just the day before, but earlier he'd managed to spot him hiding with ease.

As they continued back, Bowman absently stretched a wing around to his lap and checked it over. It had been squashed in the lich's bony hand, but while it was sore he couldn't feel any breaks. He squinted at it, trying to check for signs that it wasn't living up to his usual standards of camouflage. He ran a hand along the membrane, testing the edges of the wing to make sure they weren't scratched.

All seemed well. Bowman tilted his head but let it go for now. It was late and he was tired. "Should be coming up soon ..." he announced, looking around. Indeed, through the chorus of crickets the stream could be distantly heard.

As they approached, the village became more evident by soft glows hanging from some of the trees. Bundles of soft flower petals, glowing with their own light, seemed to have been hung to mark the edges of the village. Bowman chuckled. "Looks like you were expected back anyway," he quipped. Most of the sprites would be getting ready to sleep soon, but at least they'd prepared some light for the returning victors.

Both Sam and Dean's faces lit up at the sight. In all their time as hunters, they'd never been given anything close to a welcome like this. Usually the people they saved wanted them out of their lives, or gave them a quick thank you and sent them off. Being welcomed wasn't something either of them was used to after all this time, especially Sam.

Dean dropped his bag lightly outside the village before he stepped into the circle of light, carefully watching his step. "This is awesome," he said as he walked a few feet in. "They didn't have to do that for us..."

He fished Sam out of his pocket, continuing to talk to Bowman, "Anywhere I should lay? I don't want to get in the way... just..." he couldn't stifle a yawn. "...really tired."

Bowman was looking around the village, admiring the sight of the glow-lanterns everywhere. He saw his village a lot at night anyway, thanks to his usual habit of sneaking out. But he rarely saw it lit up this way. That was saved for special occasions, though the Prayer to put a glow in the petals was not too difficult for even the learning sprites.

"Eh? Oh," Bowman realized Dean sounded just about ready to drop where he stood. "Uh. Anywhere on the ground is probably fine, if you're okay with it," he answered. He stood carefully, making sure he had proper balance before hopping off Dean's shoulder and opening his wings.

He quickly came to a hover in front of the human, glancing down at the ground far below. "Just don't lean too much on any tree trunks, you might block the stairs with your great big self, y'know?" Bowman didn't need to give anyone any more reasons to gripe at him for not keeping the humans in check.

"Hey ... " Bowman started, hesitating to say anything but knowing he really should. "Thanks. For all the saves."

Dean tried to wave off the thanks but ended up yawning again. "Don't mention it," he said, though he couldn't hide the pleased smile that appeared at the thanks. "You had some good saves yourself today. Couldn't have done it without you, Bowman."

Dean glanced around at the area around his feet. "You won't have to worry about me blocking off any trees, I'll be fine right here," he said as he lowered Sam to the ground and started to strip off his jacket. Bundling it up, Dean lay flat on the ground, resting his head on the jacket and one arm crossed behind it. "See you on the other side," he mumbled as he dropped off instantly into sleep, his breathing steadying out to slow, steady breaths.

Sam watched Dean fall asleep from where he was standing by his brother's side, near a hand that was curled into a loose fist. A fond smile passed over his face as he observed the immense hunter, knowing how lucky he was to have Dean in his life. If Dean was anyone else, Sam might not even be here now.

Sam gave Dean's side a pat. "Sleep well, you big lug," he said softly, afraid to risk waking Dean. After everything he'd been through, Dean deserved the chance to rest easy for once. And it worked. He didn't even twitch at Sam's words or touch.

Bowman glided in lazy circles towards the ground once Dean laid himself down. The human was asleep before he even landed, and Bowman doubted that even his slight rustling on the foliage would wake the tired giant. He'd all but fallen over right where he stood from exhaustion. Bowman was tempted to do that himself.

He fanned his wings a few times, rolling his shoulders and trying to work out the knots. It might just be a lost cause. He'd have to get a lot of sun to make up for all this exertion.

He walked over to Sam, surprising himself by his lack of concern for the sleeping giant so near. "Sam," he whispered. "Do you, uh, need anything? Food, a place to sleep?" Bowman was entirely unsure how to play host to a sprite-sized human that had helped save the village. He was kind of wishing Cerul was here to handle this one.

But the noble wasn't there. It was just Bowman. And Sam had earned some hospitality, so Bowman waited nearby in case he decided he needed something.

Sam pulled away from Dean, turning to meet Bowman's eyes. "Food would be nice," he admitted as he felt the truth of those words in the empty spot in his middle. In the excitement of the day he'd neglected to eat more than just some granola and chocolate. "I mean, I could always get food from Dean's duffel if it came to that, but I wouldn't turn down a chance to eat something other than granola."

He brushed his hand over Dean's huge one, reassuring himself one last time his brother was alright before walking a few inches over to stand near Bowman. After the day they'd been through, it was starkly apparent how vulnerable even Dean could be. Sam had almost lost him for good bare hours ago. "But I've already got somewhere to sleep, so you don't need to worry about that," he said with a grin, thinking of Dean's chest pocket. Sleeping in there would be reassuring after everything they'd been through during this case, and it would relax Dean just as much, knowing his little brother was safe and sound. Dean wouldn't roll over in his sleep, having enough control over his unconscious body to manage that anytime Sam was nearby, and in a village full of tiny sprites that would be a very useful ability, indeed.

As though Dean realized Sam was leaving him, one of the huge fingers stretched out next to him, a callused fingertip brushing lightly against his jacket and satchel. Sam pushed the huge finger down with a grin. "Stop worrying about me, I'm not the one that needs my beauty sleep over here." The finger relaxed at his words, trusting Sam even in sleep.


A/N

They can finally let Dean rest. He's had a tough day considering everything he went through with the fights, the hiking, getting poisoned, healed, being a playgound for kiddos...

Big big hoomin sleepin' in the village. Try not to wake the giant!

Next: May 2nd

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