A/N:
Thanks to Guest for the review!
While Jacob was gone, Sam busied himself loading up a search in the internet browser, briefly glancing over at the pile of books Dean had accrued back when they first met. One slim volume, titled The Borrowers, was Dean's idea of a joke, mixed in with texts on the occult and supernatural. Before, Sam found it annoying, his brother's constant fixation on the name. That had tapered off slowly as they discovered more and more about Sam's people, even the fact that they didn't have a name for themselves or knew where they came from.
With the information divulged by Celeste, Sam now knew why that was.
The door opening up again to let Jacob into the room sent a shudder up Sam's back that had nothing to do with the human's gaze or the breeze that slipped in around him. For a brief moment, Sam nearly gave into his instincts to hide, lessons learned over a year in the past when he was abducted right out of there room.
Sam tried his best to shake that off. He'd forgotten to explain to Jacob the knock the brothers used when Sam was on his own. Wasn't the kid's fault.
Waving at the bed, Sam indicated where Jacob could leave the duffel bag. "Just get what you need from it now, we'll keep it with us if we leave," he advised. "Next time you leave the room, though, me and Dean… we kind of have this knock, that way I know it's safe to stay out in the open, or if I should go for cover. Think you could do that when you need to come in and out?" He demonstrated by banging the handle of his knife against the table, a dull thud that echoed more than any rap of his knuckles could.
Jacob stood almost frozen as that quiet sound echoed away from the table. He hadn't even thought about some kind of signal to let Sam know he was coming back. With Bowman, the sprite usually came to find him first.
In Wellwood, Jacob was one of very few humans who even knew the village existed, let alone where to find it. Sam didn't have that kind of assurance, and he didn't have wings that conveniently hid him in his environment. Anyone could walk in, and Jacob needed to remember that.
He locked the door and discarded the bag on the extra bed. Then, he put his hands in his hoodie pockets, contrite. "That's a good idea. Sorry if I startled ya."
Sam waved it off. "It's fine, I forgot to let you know. Dean has a backup plan for his backup plans usually. We've done it for so long that it's just part of life now. We had trouble with humans before, a lot like Bowman did."
Glancing over his shoulder at the laptop, Sam sighed. "I'm afraid I won't be much good on the laptop right now. I've gotta get washed up." He dug out his hook. He could feel the dirt still in his hair after the earlier attack. As Dean would say, they were no good to anyone exhausted and strung out. "Did you have any other questions before I go?"
Dude, I got a million questions.
"Nah," Jacob replied, offering one more apologetic smile. "You do whatcha need." It didn't do any good wondering if the awkwardness would ever wear off. Sam was used to Dean, and Jacob simply wasn't him. They'd just have to play it by ear.
"I might try a few searches myself, or… brainstorm, or something," he said. They both knew he was too green to know what to search for, but he couldn't sit around not trying.
Sam smiled tiredly, too exhausted for more. "Try searching for symbology or sigils," he offered. "I'll try and explain more later, when we stop for food. I know you kinda just got thrown into all this."
That said, he wandered to the side of the table closest to the bathroom. Normally, in a new room, he might take Dean's offer of help the first time so he could figure out the lay of the land up on the bathroom counter. That way, his later trips throughout the night wouldn't need a chaperone, and he knew where to toss his hook. Now he had to size up the counter ahead of time, before climbing down from the table to cross the expanse of carpet that separated him from the bathroom sink.
It was a good thing most motels kept the sink separate from the bathroom.
Once Sam had the bathroom counter memorized and he knew where he'd be tossing his hook, he slipped the three-pronged hook into a crack on the table and jumped. A controlled fall got him to the ground (without any of the regular complaints from Dean about his daredevilry), and he flicked the hook down before starting a steady run towards the back of the room.
Hugging the wall the entire way, Sam reached the back of the room in under five minutes. He hated crossing the room out in the open like this, missing the comforting walls and a close ceiling overhead, but he didn't know the motel around these parts. It would take him time to figure out the way around the new walls, if there was one. He'd grown so used to having Dean around, always watching out for him, that it was now jarring to be on his own with Jacob. He'd have to adapt.
Sam's earlier planning paid off, his hook latching on during the first throw, and he scrambled up the line, using his hands and boots to cling to the fishing line and climb straight into the air. Sam made a face at the sink, knowing it wasn't likely the maids in the motel cleaned as well as they should, but he set to taking off his boots and socks and placing them carefully to the side, the socks shoved into the boots. He couldn't afford to lose any of his clothes.
Withdrawing a spare shirt and jeans from his satchel, Sam laid them out on the edge of the sink before placing a face cloth so it draped down into the sink. The rough surface of the cloth would give him reaction to climb out when he was finished.
Everything set, Sam put his entire body into pushing up on the handle, pushing it from side to side until he found a level of warmth he could stand in the makeshift shower, and slid down into the sink to get started.
Jacob left Sam to it, giving him his privacy. He had a blank Google search bar to stare at while he pondered what he would look for. Even as the water turned on somewhere behind him, Jacob was focused forward. He only derailed his thoughts to smirk about how Bowman would most likely deal with a sink. He probably would have cussed at it before figuring anything out.
With his brash friend in mind, he entered a search for symbology. The first results were basic, but Jacob decided to go through them anyway. He couldn't leave a stone unturned in the name of getting through information quickly.
Wherever Bowman was, he was counting on Jacob to help find him. Even if the little guy could escape, he wouldn't know where to go.
The human-dominated parts of the world far outnumbered the places where Bowman could be safe. He wouldn't know what to do with himself without a trustworthy human around. Noises, smells, even the pressure and movement of the air would be different. Jacob was determined not to leave any of the sprites to that, even as he ran through sites that didn't have anything close to what Sam had drawn out.
Sam ended up spending a long time in the sink, staring into the water as it cascaded down, flowing around his feet and into the drain. His mind replayed the events of that day, over and over until he could see it every time he closed his eyes.
Sammy…
Dean's voice, right before losing consciousness, taunted him through the shower. It sounded desperate, like Dean was trying to warn him of something…
But what?
Sam laced his fingers through his hair, squeezing out the liquid until it formed a bubble of condensation on his hand. He had to focus past the guilt. He'd lectured Dean about that exact thing so many times, he couldn't fall into the same trap.
Using the facecloth he'd draped over the edge of the sink, Sam dried himself off and dragged down his clothes. Whatever good the long shower had done, it gave him a spurt of energy to face the rest of the day. Dean wasn't the only person they'd lost, and Sam needed to keep that in mind. Jacob had lost someone at the same time, and the village had lost a large chunk of their children. More might already be missing, and they wouldn't know until they returned.
The sun was just dipping below the horizon as Sam climbed down from the counter, flicking his wet hair whenever it got in his eyes. The warm red and gold hues managed to sneak in at the edges of the window, splashing some color into the somber room. His stomach growled, reminding him they'd had no time to stop for food since the day began, and Dean and Sam had burned through most of the night before in their rush to reach town.
Sam took his time climbing up to the table, feeling the strain in his arms and legs. If he kept going at the same rate, he'd collapse before long. One of the main parts of his training from Walt as a child had been to know his limits and respect them. Back when he lived at the motel, if he was exhausted, it would be that much harder to raid a room for food without being noticed.
When he reached the top, he found Jacob's gaze already on him, the telltale sign settling on his neck. Jacob had watched the hook intently from the moment it soared up over the edge and latched into place. He released a quiet sigh when Sam was safely on top of the table after what was a climb of several stories to him.
Jacob's hands, resting idly on the laptop, had nearly twitched to life to secure the climbing string better. Only his knowledge of how self-sufficient smaller folk could be kept him from it.
The internet browser was open to several tabs of references, symbols close to but not quite matching. Some were on hippie blogs, so Jacob doubted they were worth it, but he'd left them open in case. Sam would know better whether they were worth looking into.
In the meantime ... "You made it back just in time," he greeted. "I was thinking I should order something in ... it's been a bit of a day. I've got some trail mix in my bag but that's really not much."
Sam shrugged it off. "I'm up for whatever," he said, a familiar phrase he used with Dean. It was less effective with his older brother these days, now that Dean had figured out what he liked and didn't like, but Jacob was a whole other story. "I don't think I've had anything since that coffee this morning." Throwing his mind back, Sam's brow furrowed as he tried to remember if they'd eaten since then.
Jacob shook his head. None of them had had time since that morning. With Rischa and then Bowman and Dean all disappearing, the thought had left his mind. Now, the emptiness in his middle demanded attention, and he couldn't imagine Sam was any different. The little guy had to use a lot more energy just to cross the room.
"I'll order something in and we can have trail mix as a side to pretend it's healthy," he quipped, grabbing his phone from the table.
It didn't take long to order a small pizza (Jacob's wallet hadn't expected him to stay in town instead of out in the woods). In the time it took the delivery boy to arrive, he'd had some help ruling out a few sources on the laptop. The hippie websites were discarded and Jacob was directed to comb more closely for some kind of lead.
They ate a meal of champions, pizza and trail mix, and quickly enough got back to work. Jacob didn't make a lot of conversation while he was eating, not when the only other people around were so little. The sprites didn't like to think of it, so he was well conditioned. In the end, he was back on the laptop after retrieving one of the old books for Sam. More than once, Jacob's focus drifted off the latest web page to peek at the way Sam had to go to so much effort just to turn a page.
Each time, Sam would stiffen, the microscopic hairs on the back of his neck raising at the feeling. At first, he tried to hide the reaction, staying hunched over the book until he had to shuffle to the next page, sometimes turning it while remaining on the book, occasionally stepping off to push it over.
This time when Jacob looked, Sam was already looking back, sensing the glance coming and sending an annoyed, bitchy glare. "Something on my face?" Sam asked grumpily, the long hours of research showing in the lines etched around his eyes.
Jacob, all of six feet and five inches, flinched as that glare leveled on him. Holy shit. He totally can tell if someone's looking at him. Jacob somehow activated some special sense just by looking Sam's way.
It answered one of his many questions about the enigmatic little guy, at least. He shook his head. "N-nope, sorry," he said, looking back to his own reading.
Sam nodded sharply, satisfied at the reaction, then turned back to his book, occasionally scratching out notes in his journal when he found an interesting passage.
Though Sam's determination was unflagging throughout the early hours of the night, his energy wasn't. His eyes began to droop as time dragged on, his movements more sluggish as he pushed one last page over, half of it fluttering down on Sam as he leaned over, resting his cheek against the cool page.
Five minutes… I'll just rest my eyes for five minutes.
Less than one minute later, Sam was fast asleep, his pencil lead rolling free from his hand.
A/N:
These boys are trying so hard, but they're such dorks about it. They're going to figure out what happened and find Dean and the sprites!
Cowritten by PL1, the creator of the Wellwood sprites and Jacob Andris!
Beta read by creatorofuniverses on tumblr.
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Next: July 26th, 2020 at 9pm