Sam composed himself, offering a hand to Castiel to shake. "You're really an angel?" he asked in awe.

Castiel stared at Sam's hand, then took it and offered a stiff shake, like he wasn't quite sure what he was doing. "I am. And you're the boy with the cursed soul. I've heard about you." He spoke simply, stating facts before pulling his hand away and looking at the others in the room. The sight of Dean looming over them did nothing to break his unruffled demeanor.

Castiel's calm demeanor only further contrasted with Bowman's, who was nonplussed over being completely ignored and confused about what just happened. Humans weren't supposed to be able to just switch from giant to sprite size. Whatever an angel was, he had many questions he was ready to demand an answer to.

A nudge at his side derailed him. Bowman turned a glare on Jacob only to find the human giving him a pointed look. Bowman saw his curiosity mirrored there, but Jacob shrugged faintly.

This conversation was not for them. Not really.

Bowman scoffed and prowled away from Jacob's reach. While Castiel focused on Sam and Dean, Bowman made sure he stood between him and the nestlings over on the bed before finally trying again to say something despite Jacob's silent advice.

"I've heard of Sam, too, so we all have something in common," he snarked, though his voice was tinged with caution. "Why are you here now?"

Bowman's sarcasm only got Castiel to look his way, sizing up the sprite first followed by Jacob as the angel assessed all the people in the room with him. Considering that he was currently the shortest person there, not counting the children bundled up on the bed, he let no sign of any discomfort show on his face as he looked them all over.

Until, that is, Dean nudged him with a finger. Sam had to pull away from Castiel's stiff handshake, the angel unfamiliar with human greetings.

"He asked you a question," Dean said pointedly. "Why are you here? Why now? " There was a good bit of emotion in him. "We could have used some help a day or two ago, if you're that interested in us."

Castiel let his hands fall to his side, ignoring Dean's finger. "I have been tracking my sister," he said, faintly scolding. "Saraqael cannot track Sam, and she lost his trace after our confrontation. I and the others have been keeping her from following you." He turned to face Sam once more. "You are what she wants, and we can't let her find you."

Sam had to pull his jaw from the tabletop, somehow managing to close his mouth. "You're saying an angel did this to me?" he demanded in disbelief. "I've met her! She's a witch!"

"An angel who fell from heaven and possessed a woman, becoming a witch to disguise where her magic really comes from," Castiel corrected. "In fact, she got the initial idea from her host, from what we've discovered. Celeste was stabbed in the back by a woman in her town who was a real witch. The angel took possession of her when she was framed to be the witch herself and got revenge on the town for her- by 'cursing' them all. Men, women and children, none were left out."

This time, Bowman inched closer so he could listen, rather than talk back. His brow pinched with confusion as many of the concepts breezed over his head, including the names and the events Castiel described. He had been far too caught up in what was happening in Wellwood to think about what might have been happening outside of it.

"So that means..." he interrupted, only to trail off as the implications settled in. He glanced at Sam. The other folk like him really had started off the same way; humans once, but not really anymore.

As much as he preferred being sprite-sized, it wasn't normal for humans. He'd seen the effects of losing that size firsthand with Dean over the last few days.

He glanced over at Jacob and tried to imagine him at the same scale. Then, he pushed those thoughts aside.

Jacob broke the pause next before it could draw out. "Can we help?" he asked. Then, he became sheepish as he remembered how little experience he had and how much it showed on their mission just the day before. "I mean. With Sam, and all that stuff..."

"If you see any of Sam's people, you can make sure they are not treated like lessers," Castiel intoned. "They have some small amount of magic in them, bestowed by the Grace she imbued in them, but they are a peaceful race, compared to humans."

"My knack..." Sam said slowly, everything starting to come clear.

Castiel nodded. "Your... 'knack' and others, and the strength in you. Not everyone exhibits an outward trace of the magic, but it often shows in times of great distress or need. It is always there."

"Like with Walt," Dean said in sudden understanding. "There was no greater need than when his daughter and son were about to die."

Turning on his heel, Castiel walked away from Sam and Bowman. Before anyone could blink, he was again standing full-sized in the room, his level gaze on the sprite children on the bed.

"You did a good thing, saving them," Castiel said before Dean could leap to his feet to keep the stranger away from the children. "Not all that live on this earth are my father's children, but they have no less reason to exist because of that."

Bowman's wings flared open in spite of Castiel's steady words, and he would have taken flight already if not for Jacob. He held out a calming hand to steal some of Bowman's focus, and it was enough. Castiel didn't have an irate sprite fluttering at him in defense of the slumbering nestlings.

"That's what we thought," Jacob agreed. "The sprites are just trying to get by."

As if to demonstrate their own innocence, the children slept peacefully on. With a shadow blocking their sunlight, tired wings settled down and Rischa turned over to let an arm settle on one of the others. If her empathic ability took any notice of Castiel, it wasn't enough to wake her.

"We ... do our best to keep out of trouble," Bowman chimed in. He still had a distrustful look fixed on Castiel's back.

Castiel turned and looked steadily at Bowman, silent in his appraisal before he turned back to Sam.

"Why are you even here?" Dean growled out. "Don't you have other people to bother?"

Castiel held out his hands. "I am merely here to warn you that my sister is trying to track Sam down. We are working to find her first, but she's evaded her trackers for millennia. It stands to reason she may evade us for longer."

"How the hell are we supposed to deal with her if angels-"

Halfway through Dean's speech, Castiel reached for him, planting two fingers solidly on the hunter's forehead for a brief second.

Then vanished.

Dean leapt to his feet, too late to grab at the erstwhile angel.

"Son of a bitch! " he snapped at the empty air.

Bowman's wings twitched irritably and he glared at the spot Castiel stood only a moment ago. Just when he thought he had giants figured out, they always had a new surprise for him.

After what they'd all been through, he was wary of someone who could vanish at will. Especially when they looked at him like that. Like he was just there as a backdrop and not worth acknowledging more than in passing.

Not that Castiel had regarded the others with much more interest.

Jacob spoke before Bowman could voice his complaints about the guy. "That was, uh. Interesting," he mused. Considering he and Bowman probably weren't meant to have heard any of it, he didn't know what else to say. "So much for the salt everywhere."

His voice and Dean's, loud rumbles in the air after a series of loud rumbles, finally drew a reaction from the nestlings. A girl younger than Rischa sat up blearily and rubbed her eyes with her knuckles. While she yawned, Rischa herself stirred again, her wings and arms stretching out tiredly.

Dean scowled, not having noticed the children waking on the bed. "I can't believe this!" he hissed, keeping his voice down if only for Bowman and Sam's proximity. "Just when we think we might get answers-!"

"We got some answers!" Sam interrupted Dean hurriedly.

Dean bared his teeth at Sam. "What about this angel crap, huh? We know angels can't be real-"

"Whoa, of course they can be!" Sam looked aghast. "There's plenty of lore!"

Dean dismissed this with a wave. "No one's ever seen an angel, and we've never heard of a hunter running into one, so why should we just believe this Castiel? "

Bowman was wide-eyed as he watched their argument form. He didn't know what an angel was (or wasn't) supposed to be. Whatever they were, Castiel had upset Dean with his abrupt exit, and it wasn't easy to stand his ground while the man was so riled. Dean had an intensity about him that had scared Bowman more than he cared to admit when they first met.

He knew no harm would come to anyone because of it now, but it left him at a loss of what to do or say until Jacob nudged his side. When he turned around, Jacob nodded towards the bed. They both looked at the same time to find Rischa rubbing her eyes and turning towards the heated conversation as the emotions in it tickled her awareness.

"Birdie!" Bowman said, as relieved to see her okay as he was for a reason to leave the conversation behind. His wings fluttered to life and he crossed the short distance to the group of sleeping nestlings to crouch down among them.

Rischa, still waking up, leaned into a sleepy hug around his waist without any prompting. "Good morning," she slurred out. "Is everyone … okay?" She yawned in the middle of her question, but soon her gold-colored eyes were looking around more keenly.

She blinked at the sight over by the table, at whose shadow fell partially over the bed. "Dean! You're big again!"

Any anger that Dean was harboring evaporated the second he heard Rischa's voice, and his face softened as he looked over to the bed where the children were staying. "Rischa," he said warmly in greeting.

Sam blinked up at Dean. "Are you okay?"

Dean blinked back in confusion. "Why?"

Rubbing his chest with his hand, Sam gestured at Dean with the other. "Your ribs… don't they hurt?" he asked.

Dean put his own hand on his chest, pushing hesitantly down and discovering a lack of pain. "It's… gone…" he said slowly in realization.

Bowman, with Rischa still clinging to him and the other nestlings stirring around him, eyed Dean critically. He had been certain his broken ribs would require a few more healings from Rischa or maybe Cerul back in the forest. Broken bones were harder to knit together even with the healing touch.

Recalling Castiel poking Dean in the face earlier, Bowman wondered if there had been more of a reason to it besides annoying him.

Rischa was confused and rubbed at her eyes. "How?" she managed to ask. "I didn't…"

"You did a great job, Birdie," Bowman interrupted her to keep her mind off of the confusion and the smoldering argument at the table. Even if she couldn't instantly heal the injuries (until now Bowman had thought only the Spirit could do that), she'd worked hard. "You helped keep us all okay that whole time."

"It makes sense if he's an angel," Sam said, pressing the issue with Dean. "Just like when he fixed you at the beginning of the week! Who else could undo that spell that made you-"

"Angels don't exist!" Dean hissed, falling right back into the argument and forgetting everything else. "They can't, we've never heard of anyone dealing with them before."

"You just dealt with one," Sam said flatly. "We couldn't fix what Celeste did to you, and he's done it twice now."

Dean stared at Sam, his lips pressed as though he had more he wanted to say but couldn't find the words.

Jacob sat back and let some amazement creep over him. Dean was as intense as he'd ever been, stubborn in his stance. Seeing Sam just as stubborn was a familiar and impressive sight. Bowman could be that kind of fearless when he really wanted to be, no matter what he was staring down.

There Sam was, pushing Dean's buttons while standing all of four inches tall. Jacob was almost six and a half feet tall and didn't want to try that.

Instead, he chose to focus on someone that probably wouldn't bite his head off if he tried to interject. He got to his feet, briefly looming over even Dean at his impressive height. It lasted only a second, long enough for him to approach the bed with one long stride, before he dropped down to a crouch to greet the nestlings as they woke up.

"Hey," he said softly. "Everyone doing okay? Vel's sleeping over on the nightstand, we can go get him soon and you can help Bowman finish the fruit from yesterday."

The sound of Jacob's voice distracted Dean, and he tore his gaze away from the argument to look at the kids.

Naturally, Sam wasn't about to let go of the argument as easily as that. "Call Bobby and see what he was going to tell us," he pressed. "Before Castiel interrupted."

Dean huffed, reluctantly reaching over to unlock the abandoned phone.


A/N:

Dean throws a fit over the existence of angels, and Bowman notes that the best way to immediately piss Dean off is to poke him in the face. Good job, Cas.

Enjoy the holidays and stay safe!

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

Beta read by creatorofuniverses on tumblr.

Leave us a review to let us know what you think!

Next: December 30th, 2020 at 9pm