Alone in the room, Sam wasted no time getting to the bathroom sink for his delayed morning ablutions. He'd never thought that Dean's offhand way of helping, providing small amenities that normally didn't occur to Sam at the time, would feel like such gaping holes in his life.

Once, he'd lived without access to running water at all, aside from what they could tap into in the pipes. He could deal with a few missing amenities until they found Dean.

By the time Jacob's shadow could be seen moving along outside the room window, Sam was back on the table, surveying the book he'd fallen asleep in the night before. He was sure to retrieve the small bit of pencil lead tucked between two pages, where it had fallen from his hand.

Two knocks echoed into the room from outside, a deliberate sound that also conveyed haste. When the door opened shortly after, it became clear; Jacob was balancing a paper plate on one hand, trying not to spill it as his other actions jostled the food on it.

His eyes first went to the ground, and then he gave a quick scan of the room before finding Sam on the table. He smiled, relieved. "Hey," he greeted, walking over to set the plate down well away from any of the books. There was some bacon and eggs, staples for a continental breakfast, as well as some toast. "They had some fruit, but it looked pretty miserable."

"Trust me, I'm the last person who's gonna complain about that," Sam commented as he stepped down from the book to look the plate over. "I've lived in motels over half my life. Warm food is more we could usually hope to find."

Taking a few steps towards the food, Sam paused, realizing he was treating things like he was with Dean again. "You mind?" he asked, gesturing at the food and flushing slightly. Couldn't just take the food. He'd only known Jacob for a day now.

Jacob shrugged. "Go ahead," he replied, missing the real reason Sam would have paused. He was so used to Bowman's methods, fluttering right up to something new whether it was food or some other human thing, and then asking. Sam's manners were a pleasant surprise.

Holding back from the food, Jacob went to find the coffee pot filled with the dark brown liquid. He didn't plan to have any himself, but he did his best to prepare a container of it for Sam, bringing it all over next to the food. He made sure he gave Sam plenty of space as he picked out his breakfast options.

That done, Jacob reached out to brush the trackpad of the laptop. The drive whirred to life as the idle machine woke up and prepared to display things once more.

As it worked, Jacob leaned his chin on his hand. "So ... I didn't really find a lot, yesterday," he admitted. "Could be I was just looking in the wrong spots, but ... in case there isn't anything in the books, what would be our next step?"

Sam gathered up his food, settling down a few inches from the plate to a mix of bacon, eggs and toast, one of his favorite morning meals despite the way he ragged on Dean for the expected lack of fruit.

"Well, we need to see if anything out-of-the-ordinary is happening in town," Sam said as he thought it over, chewing slowly through the thick bacon. "Bobby'll look into things, too, and send us updates when he finds anything that might be linked. If we do find anything strange happening, we'll have to go in and interview people, see if we can get to the bottom of this." He shrugged. "There's a lot of possibilities for it, we just need to start shortening the list."

"Interview people?" Jacob echoed, keying in on one part of Sam's explanation more than the rest. He couldn't imagine that being an easy task, trying to figure out something supernatural from other people without looking completely insane. He could only hope they didn't end up having to do that.

"Makes sense, um. I guess," he said, claiming a piece of bacon for himself since it seemed like Sam had taken his pick. "Bowman really glossed over all these parts of the monster-hunting business."

"Bowman saw the wrong end of hunting," Sam cautioned as he started on his eggs. It didn't bother him to be sitting close to Jacob while he was eating. Unlike others his size, Sam knew humans would never think about the possibility of eating someone smaller than them. Dean was horrified at even the implication, turning pale the few times it had come up. Sam trusted him to the extent he'd sat on Dean's plate a few times when they were short on space.

He might not go that far with Jacob yet, but the basic trust was there, and that's what mattered.

"Sprites are pretty out there, as far as what we deal with. Interviews are a little more on the ordinary side of hunting," Sam continued his explanation. "Sometimes, the monster we find isn't the monster you expect. The werewolf next door. A haunted house is really haunted. Someone hiding a deep, dark family secret. The only way to get to the bottom of those isn't to run in, guns blazing. You've gotta talk it out, slide past law enforcement and get rid of the monster before it strikes again. Police just ain't equipped to handle a monster that only dies to silver bullets."

After another moment of thought, Sam shrugged again. "Not that I ever do the interviews. That kinda thing is up to Dean."

Jacob mulled it all over, taking a discreet bite of his bacon while he did so. Sprites were skittish about humans and their eating habits, so he usually kept some space between him and the village if he had to eat something. There was only one table in the room, so he did his best not to make it obvious. Jacob's habits, born out of his time with such different people the same size, didn't always match up with the miniature human.

The last part of the explanation stuck out to him and he almost smirked. Almost. Instead, a nervous "Ha" escaped him and he glanced back to Sam.

"You might not be the one doing the interviewing, but you'll probably have to give me a script or something. If I end up having to do that. I'd just look crazy."

Sam thought about that, cocking his head. "I don't think you'd look crazy." He sized Jacob up. "You're plenty tall enough, you just need the confidence to pull it off." He was quoting Dean at this point. "All you need is to look and sound like you know exactly what you're doing, and people will eat up the BS you dole out."

Jerking a thumb at the door, Sam grinned. "Besides, Dean showed me how to fake an ID. We can make up a brand new identity for you if we need to interview anyone."

Jacob froze as the implication struck him. "Holy shit," he muttered, once again grinning sheepishly. A fake ID. There was no way he could let his family know what he was doing out here. At least he'd had some practice keeping the sprites a secret.

"So you'll teach me how to make a fake ID?" he echoed, feeling like they were at the start of some (very weird) spy movie. This didn't happen to most people. Jacob had been surprised by a lot of things ever since meeting Bowman, and somehow it never wore off. "Dude that's kinda badass. Not to make light of everything ... but it is."

Sam waved it all off. "We do this all the time," he insisted. "Really, Dean's the one you should be calling badass. I'm still just learning, and it's not like I can help too much when things get rolling." He was dismissive of his own contributions. The longer Dean was gone, the more Sam could see just how much work his older brother put into each and every case they took.

"There's some badges in the glove compartment in the Impala," Sam continued on in a thoughtful voice. "If we can find a Kinkos in town, I should be able to make it up for you. The fake IDs are something I'm better at, since I can see the detail you and Dean miss." He scanned Jacob up and down, as much of the tall teenager as he could see from his seat on the table. "But really, we'll need to get you a change of clothes. You can't pull off a disguise looking like that."

Jacob's eyebrows shot up and he could feel the sudden heat in his face. He glanced down at himself, at the rumpled hoodie he wore over worn jeans. He'd dressed for a camping trip. He definitely hadn't planned for someone four inches tall to appraise him. At most, Bowman would have a snarky comment about the zipper on the front, because zippers had fascinated the little sprite since they first met.

"Uhm. Okay," he stammered, giving Sam an expectant look. "So, am I going for the Bond look or something else?" he asked. A disguise and a fake ID. What the hell.

Sam snorted. "Well… probably not," he said dryly. "For one thing, I don't think you'll fit into Dean's FBI suit. There isn't a chance. For another, it depends on the disguise you wear." He tilted his head in thought. "A reporter always works pretty good for Dean," he mused. "Get you some nice clothes, an official-looking notebook, we might have something."

Holy shit. Sam was completely serious as he mulled things over out loud. It really started to sink in that Jacob was going to be doing all of that. Putting on a disguise, lying about being a reporter ... all of it to try to find Dean and the missing sprites. It wasn't like Sam could walk up to someone and ask questions, so it really was on Jacob.

"Okay," Jacob said slowly, hesitantly. "I could go get that sometime soon, I guess. I wasn't making a ton of progress with the research ... Only interviews I ever did were for school junk, though, so I might be a little rusty."

"I'll go with you for any interviews," Sam reassured. "I might not be much help with talking to other humans," he suppressed a shudder at the thought of being spotted, "but I'm good at reading the situation. I've practiced with Dean a few times, relaying messages when he needs the backup."

Those were some of the good memories. Sam enjoyed the nights he accompanied Dean to a bar or two to scam some cash out of the patrons. There wasn't much that could stop the pair of them; Sam made it almost impossible to lose at poker due to his ability with reading people, and Dean was a deadshot in pool. All he had to do was throw a few games, pretend like he was drunk, and they would toss their money down.

"When you're out, you should stop at the library," Sam mulled, glancing at the books they had. "Nothing here is really going to do us any good. And pick up a paper at the store to see what's going on in town now."

Jacob nodded blankly. A part of him focused on how casually Sam listed off what they needed. Things like library and newspaper weren't in Bowman's vocabulary at all, but just like when he navigated the laptop with ease, Sam didn't even have to think about it. He just knew what to do next. Jacob was glad to have him around, because he never would have found anything on his own.

"Can do," he said appreciatively. Odd as the errands were, he could actually do them. Better than spinning his wheels on research he didn't fully understand. "I'll wash up and head out ... " his eyes strayed to the notebook he'd kept next to the laptop. "If there's something specific I should look out for at the library, jot it down?"

Sam brushed the crumbs from his hands and the few that had fallen on his shirt. "Right." Since he was done eating anyway, he figured he'd get started while the list was fresh on his mind.

New clothes, newspaper, books… Sam recited them in his mind, jogging quickly over to the notepad. He rarely wrote in the size needed for humans to read, and glanced at the pencil lead as he prepared himself. He might need a replacement by the time he was through.

Working carefully, Sam was able to make the letters large enough to stretch from one line to the next in the ruled paper, and he was proud of that fact. He quickly began to fill in the list, his hand becoming coated in pencil lead dust as he went. Some of the letters smudged slightly because of it, but not enough to distort them.

Frowning at the symbol gracing the page close by, Sam wondered what books might help them identify. Symbols of the Occult, he wrote in, figuring the library had to have something similar to it. He sketched out a few other possibilities, then added one he remembered borrowing before on ancient Latin.

By the time Sam was done, the list was longer than he was tall. He stood, pacing alongside it to reread his choices and make sure they were all clear.

While Sam worked, Jacob excused himself from the table to go about his own morning routine. A quick shower washed away the drowsiness of the night, but it couldn't quite wash away all the crazy revelations of the past 24 hours. They rattled around in his head and clamored for his attention, and all Jacob could think about was the fact that the sprites were all in danger the longer he took to figure everything out.

It meant something that they hadn't heard from Dean yet.

When he emerged from the bathroom at last, he sported a change of shirt and jeans but the same worn hoodie that hadn't passed inspection. He wandered back and peered at the list Sam had written for him, counting off the different stops in his head.

"Thanks, dude. This shouldn't take me too long and I can head back," he determined. Then I'll have to find another way to be useful.

Before he headed out, he went to the duffel bag he'd all but abandoned since bringing everything in and dug out Dean's cell phone again. The screen showed no missed calls, but there was still a chance. He set it on the table among the other research items, eyeing the device in case it took that moment to come to life with that guitar riff. "Just in case," he reasoned.

Sam would be able to answer if Dean called, and if he didn't ... at least he'd have an easier way to call Jacob back to the room if he needed and had the time.

Sam nodded. "Good plan. I can send Bobby a text while I work, too. See if he's got any leads for us to check out yet."

Jacob couldn't help one more glance at the table before he headed out the door, watching Sam settle back down to research. It grated against him to leave someone so small and vulnerable alone in the room. A distant memory returned to him, of the first time he'd ever contacted Sam and Dean over the phone. Dean's proud, stubborn voice insisting that Sam was a hunter in his own right.

And no one will ever say differently.

Jacob wasn't about to make a liar out of the guy. "Don't party too hard without me," he joked instead. Then, he was gone once more.

A/N:

Jacob, you sweet summer child.

Sam will teach him all the ways.

Cowritten by PL1, the creator of the Wellwood sprites and Jacob Andris!

Beta read by creatorofuniverses on tumblr.

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Next: August 30th, 2020 at 9pm