A/N:

Thanks to Shadow cat 181 and Guest for the reviews!

The ominous rumbling of the car echoed around them in the dark.

Sam assiduously brushed his hands over the plastic walls that surrounded them. He and Scar might not be able to see their surroundings, but there were more senses than just sight. If he could build up an image in his mind of what the glovebox looked like, he could figure something out.

Anything.

In the darkness of the glovebox, they hadn't been bothered by the human. He was driving the car and had to keep his attention on the road. Sam and Scar weren't about to attract his attention if they could avoid it.

Papers shifted beneath Sam's boots as he went along, and he almost lost his balance when the car took a turn. "Shit!" he cursed, slapping a hand against the side of the wall.

Once the car had leveled out and was going straight again, Sam leaned against the wall. "Nothing. Aside from the door, there's no other way out of here." He slid down to a squat, frustrated.

Scar wished he had a lantern with him. His frustration matched Sam's, though he'd already huddled himself down near where their strange prison had closed up. If it opened again suddenly, he wanted to be ready to make a bid for freedom.

It had been a long time since he'd been stuck without a weapon to defend himself. His sword, lost on the forest floor, might be useless against the box around them, but it would be a simple comfort to know that he had it. If and when a giant hand came at them again, he would be ready to leave a mark no matter whether or not it caught them.

A bump rattled them all the way through, and Scar gritted his teeth. "This blasted ... car thing," he grumbled.

"He won't leave us in here forever," he reasoned after another moment of nothing but the roar of the engine. "When he tries to move us again, I would think a standard scatter is best, even if there's only the two of us. He doesn't seem like the type who'd want to leave either of us free, so maybe we can buy each other time to work out a way to get out of this mess."

Sam tapped a knuckle against the wall he was leaning on, listening to the way the plastic absorbed the sound. "That could work," he agreed thoughtfully, thinking of what he remembered of cars. It had been years since he'd been in one, and it was doubtful this car would resemble the Impala, but it gave him an edge over Scar in familiarity.

Bobby would expect them to make a break for it, but maybe not how they did it. Humans thought in two dimensions, a way of thinking that Sam had broken free of when he'd taken to the skies with his adopted brother. It meant Bobby might expect them both to dart left and right, but with Scar… they had more directions open to them.

"If you go up, I go down," Sam said, his mind already planning out their moves. "There's enough room under the seat for me to escape to the back of the car, and while Bobby's distracted you can see if there's any open windows to dart out of." He might not be able to get out of the car himself, but he'd make a good distraction for Scar's escape.

"Hmmm," Scar murmured in place of a nod. No matter how long they stayed in the dark, no matter how wide their eyes or how much they willed the space around them to take shape, they couldn't adjust when there was nolight to help them. Nothing got into the box, much like nothing would get out. Scar began to think they might not even get fresh air in there unless it was opened.

"I'm not sure how far I'd be able to go," he answered after another bump in their journey. He couldn't leave one of his knights for too long, and definitely not for good. "But the longer we disorient him, the better."

"As long as you get out of the car, you'll have a chance," Sam said. "Inside, there isn't much room to maneuver. Bobby will be able to grab you from just about anywhere. If you can get out, you can harry him from a distance." Scar was his teacher, but out of nowhere they'd been thrust back into Sam's old world. He needed to give Scar whatever edge he could.

Considering he was the one who'd be trapped on the floor of a car with a giant around if it went off to plan.

Sam tried to think of places to hide inside of a car. It was hard without knowing what the car looked like. "If you can get him out of the car, I might be able to get out without him noticing…" He trailed off and stared into space.

And what then, smart ass?

They could find a forest again, that was for sure. But they were in a car, and already they were too far away to return to the Wellwood without help. There would be no way to know what direction they'd come from, no way to know how to get back.

No way to reach Dean.

Sam only knew about cell phones existing because of Jacob. He had no way of contacting Dean or Jacob.

Doesn't matter. Escape first, figure out the rest later.

The plan was a bleak one, but it was the only one they had. They couldn't hope to fight the human off, and trying to tell Bobby to take them back was out of the question. Scar hated to admit, even privately, that he didn't have a real idea of what they could do. They didn't have a way to track what direction they'd gone, so knowing the direction in the stars wouldn't help them. Scar doubted he would be able to fly high enough to see the vast expanse of Wellwood's trees.

While they contemplated their slim chances, the car carried them farther and farther from home, putting uncountable miles behind them. Scar wore a perpetual scowl in the dark, primed and waiting for an opportunity to fly out of reach, an opportunity that seemed like it might never come.

Hours later, the car slowed down, making more turns than usual. After one last winding stretch of movement, the whole metal behemoth came to a creaking stop and the engine turned off, leaving only a ringing in their ears as evidence that it was ever running in the first place.

"Sit tight, little guys," a muffled voice told them, before Bobby laughed, a cruel sound that said he knew exactly the irony of his statement. Then there was a slam, and the oppressive silence moved in on them.

Scar scoffed. "I ... didn't expect him to just leave us in here," he admitted.

Only moments later, another huge metal door opened, closer this time as Bobby opted for the passenger door instead. Scar braced himself, waiting for the moment. He heard a shuffling outside their prison, and then a latch clicking back, and then the whole floor beneath them tilted out. Scar prepared to dart out, Sam tensed with his hand on the hilt of his rapier crouched at the edge...

And they found themselves blinded.

Bobby held a flashlight in one hand, a high strength one that he knew would pack a vicious punch after their hours in the pitch dark. Scar flinched back with a grimace of pain, and before he could correct his movement or recover, a hand swept into the glovebox to retrieve them.

Sam tried to dodge out of the way, but the glovebox was small enough that Bobby's hand covered all possible exits when it swept through. A finger brushed against his side, then curled inwards to the palm and took Sam with it.

Slamming against Bobby's palm, Sam found himself pinned next to the struggling Scar. Knife and rapier both out of reach, Sam tried to thrash to free one. He had an arm free, and shoved at the fingers closed around his chest, partly to try and free himself, and partly to try to escape some of the pressure squeezing them.

It was a dismal reminder of how careful Jacob had really been when he first discovered Bowman.

Not once, in all his fascination, had the larger teen injured the sprite. Not when Bowman had blundered his way into hanging vines and Jacob had helped free him. Not when Sam had slashed his hand and ended up dragged into the air from the shock when Jacob twitched backwards, and not even when slamming the bucket down around them. If anything, he'd gotten Bowman out of trouble again when their escape attempt went awry and Bowman got himself stuck trying to crawl underneath the edge of the bucket.

Bobby had none of that care.

Blinking wide eyes in the dark and flash-blinded, Sam snarled. "We won't do you much good if you go crushing us!"

"Figures a little guy like you would make a big deal out of nothing," Bobby scoffed. Once he had them securely in hand, he switched off the flashlight and lifted them higher to check on them. Their little eyes were dazed, definitely affected by the sudden onslaught of light. It had been a perfect way to restrain them without lasting damage.

Scar blinked rapidly, trying to get the spots out of his eyes while the human sidled around his huge car. They were in a cluttered room that fit the entire metal behemoth, and a wide door on one side demonstrated how it had rolled in.

The hand around them didn't relent even after Sam's scolding. Breathing was hard but not impossible, and Bobby gave the impression that this was an intentional discomfort for them while he rummaged around in some of the junk in the garage.

"Gotta find a good home for you," he muttered aloud, poking around at a basket of recycled containers. Tall glass jars and squat, clear plastic containers became his best options, and Bobby deliberated between the two lazily, in no hurry to release his captives from his grasp yet.

There was something that made him undeniably giddy to have finally found what his family had sought for generations. Eventually, he'd have to tell his dad and granddad about what he'd found. Until then, they belonged to him alone. It might even be fun teaching them to realize that.

Sam's eyes finally cleared up, the last few splotches of red dwindling away to reveal their captor's car.

If there had been room for his chest to expand, he would have sucked in a gasp of surprise at the sight of the huge containers Bobby was rifling through. As it was, he merely made a choked noise, continuing to squirm his way out of Bobby's fist.

He'd never considered how easy it was for them to fit inside something like a jar or plastic bottle.

Sure, Jacob had once trapped him and Bowman under a bucket a few months back. But even then, there had been a way out. Escaping into the forest wasn't out of reach, and from there Bowman could seek out help.

Here and now, they were hundreds of miles away from the forest. Even escaping Bobby's grasp might result in them getting lost for the rest of their lives. Getting out of a jar with a lid would be far more difficult than tunneling under a bucket.

Sam's mind raced. The only faint light he could see in their situation was that Bobby and Jacob knew each other. If Dean and the others stopped the demon and freed Jacob, there was a chance they'd come check on Bobby after everything was over with. Which meant that Sam and Scar might be able to get their attention.

They had to survive that long and hope, which wouldn't be easy in Bobby's grasp.

"Is that the best you've got?" Sam asked disdainfully as he watched the human examine the options he had before them to trap them in. He was sweating in place, hoping against hope that there was another way out. Anything with a lid would be near impossible to get out of.

" 'Fraid so, squirt," Bobby answered nonchalantly, continuing to rifle through the various containers. "Nothing swanky for you right off the bat, but you've been trouble so I guess it's as much as you've earned. I'll get you a decent cage tomorrow." He picked up a decently wide, tall jar and observed it, but the lid was nowhere to be found.

Scar breathed shallowly, glaring at Bobby and at his immense surroundings. There was nothing familiar there. Even the air was thick with foreign, nasty smells that might have made Scar gag if he wasn't already fighting to breathe.

"Nothing decent about a cage, you enormous rotting stump," he swore, spitting the words like venom.

Bobby snorted and turned away from the recycling bin with the jar in hand. "Okay, sure," he answered between chuckles. Before he reached the door from the garage into the house, he stuffed the hand with his two captives into the jar and released them on the bottom. The smell of vinegar still permeated the glass, and Bobby's hands were large enough to cover the opening while he entered his home at last.

Scar disentangled himself from Sam and pushed himself to a wavering stand against one side of their glass prison, staring upwards. He had to cover his face with a sleeve after only a few seconds of that sharp, sour smell all but biting at his senses.

Sam's eyes were watering in turn, his mouth a thin line. "If he was planning on killing us I'm sure there were better ways," he coughed into his sleeve. "This is just torture." He tried to wipe his eyes as fast as he could to take in as much information about their new surroundings as he could. If they could get out of the jar, they'd need a plan in place for escape.

Unlike Scar, who didn't have a chance of recognizing their strange surroundings, especially with all the sharp corners that surrounded them, Sam knew exactly where they were. The scenery was strangely warped by his size, but he had a sense of returning to what he'd lost.

Rubbing at his eyes, Sam tried to blink and keep them clear. "Cars are kept in the garage," he said, almost reciting what he remembered. "Doors keep the bugs out, and we'll never be able to open up a door on our own. Windows might be open but there could be a screen that covers it, keeping the bugs out again." He had to stop and cough.

"Blast!" Sam kicked the side of the jar.

A/N:

Scar and Sam are not having a good ride

There is a good chance that in the next few weeks we will have a short hiatus. Stay safe everyone!

Next: March 22nd, 2020 at 9pm EST.