A/N:

Thanks to Gayle for the review!

Stepping back from the garage where Sam's glider would wait hidden among the pine needles, Dean put a hand on the shoulder with the sling. "Once we get this thing taken care of, we should find out what happened to Jacob's friend, Bobby. Supposedly he's the last person who might have seen Sam. Maybe he knows what happened."

Jacob couldn't help but overhear his name, and he glanced over to the two of them in time for Bowman to turn in his direction. The sprite was restless, clearly wanting to see more options than they had available. "I'll call Bobby as soon as I can," Jacob told him quietly.

"Yeah," Bowman answered, nodding thoughtfully. His musings were derailed by the sound of rapidly flapping wings and a voice calling for Lord Cerul. Bowman tensed at the sound, staring into the dark to watch for the source.

Lord Cerul waited patiently on the porch of the cottonwood. A sprite emerged from the dark into the soft glow cast by the lanterns, and swerved hastily around Jacob. It looked like one of the knights that had patrolled earlier. Cerul felt a few hints of hopeful optimism from the others, and his own joined them, until the knight landed and stumbled.

"M-my Lord," the knight greeted, stepping towards the noble slowly.

He was carrying an extra sword.

He held the weapon out to Cerul. Cerul numbly took the hilt in one hand and rested the blade across his other. The weapon was cool and shone brightly, even with blood dried on parts of the blade. Cerul knew without asking that it was Scar's, and he knew from the worry sparking in an alarming pattern around the knight that its owner was nowhere to be found.

Cerul took a slow breath. "Lord Scar is also missing," he declared to the few nearby that could listen.

His eyes remained trained on the blade and he kept up a calm demeanor, though inside he was nearly sick with worry for his friend. It was his burden to wear a calm face when no one else would. Cerul was not allowed to gasp in alarm or dart off to spread the frightening news. He was not allowed to make the incredulous, disbelieving expression that Bowman Leafwing wore.

"This does not change the plans by much, but it does tell us that something else is at work here," he determined. If Scar had simply found Sam injured out there, they would already have word. Something was keeping him from doing what he was best at.

Dean came up next to Jacob, standing awkwardly near the cottonwood tree. "We'll help," he decided firmly. "Once I get this arm set and we check on Bobby, we'll be back. They have to be out there somewhere." He had to swallow dryly at that. "They have to be, and I doubt there's something in the forest that could take both of those knights down without someone else noticing something."

He had to cling to that thought. With his normal wall around his emotions shattered and the pain from his arm and the memory of Sam's gentle hazel eyes keeping him from building up the wall again, Dean needed a liferaft. Something to hold onto and focus his determination on. Without it, he'd be lost and adrift and Sam needed him too much for that.

"Whatever it takes. We'll find them." The memory of how confident Sam stood with his sword helped reassure Dean that the tiny swordsman wouldn't go down without a fight. Scar, too. Dean had been around a lot of hunters all his life. He could recognize a fighter when he saw one, and respect them for it. There was no way those two would go quietly into the night. Dean's good hand clenched into a fist.

Cerul nodded at the human. He was grateful for both Jacob and Dean's help. Without them, the 'demon' threat would likely have found and overrun the village before they could prepare or make any counter measures. It would have been a massacre.

A throbbing pain in Cerul's arm brought him to the present, and he glanced at Dean's arm. "Yes, about that arm," he said, his brow pinching a little in worry. "It ... needs healing, but we don't have anyone who can set it here," he admitted, knowing the sheer size of the limb made setting it an impossibility for the smaller sprites.

Jacob preempted Bowman's question as the sprite turned to him. "No, I really shouldn't try," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'll get him to a hospital and we'll try to think of answers while that's going on."

Cerul nodded. "If you return with the bones set to heal correctly, we'd be more than happy to help then."

"O… kay." Dean wasn't sure what they could do for him, but they'd be back in the forest regardless. They'd have to be, if they wanted to help find Sam. His heart twisted at the thought of his tiny brother curled up and afraid in a huge forest.

We'll find him. There's no way anything could take him and Scar both on without a sign.

Dean glanced over at Jacob. "I hope you know how to get out of the forest," he said, slightly sheepish. "I was following Bobby's trail when I got here, but I lost it before I found Rischa."

Jacob nodded and gave Dean an empty smirk, worry still lingering in his eyes. Worry for Sam, new worry for Scar, and worry for Dean. The guy was sturdy as hell for dealing with that broken arm for this long with relatively few complaints, but the fact remained that it was clearly painful and needed tending to.

Before he could answer, Bowman flitted closer to him. "I know the way even better," he pointed out. "Even in the dark."

Jacob raised an eyebrow at the determined sprite. "You sure you want to go with us? You'll be pretty far from home and you'd have to stay hidden."

Bowman frowned. "Of course. Maybe I'll even see something while we're traveling that you two miss. Who knows? I'm going."

Dean held up a hand to forestall any more argument between Jacob and Bowman. The adrenaline from the fight was beginning to wear off, and the exhaustion was beginning to creep up on him. He wouldn't be able to stand around, especially not with the distance they were from the Impala. "You can come," Dean stated firmly. "No one will make you stay behind. If we search for Sam, we'll do it together. But!" He held up a finger. "Bowman, it's not safe for you to be seen by anyone aside from me or Jacob, so you need to make sure to do what I say, and be careful."

Bowman's eyebrows shot up. If Sam were there and they were leaving the forest for another reason, he might have argued just for the sake of it. There was no room for his pride here, and with the dark night looming close on the edge of the lantern glow, Bowman nodded. For wood sprites, who thrived in the sunlight, nighttime had a sobering effect that tempered even Bowman's high-strung attitude.

"Yeah, I'll just stick close to you guys," he promised. "I don't want to deal with any new giants tonight."

Jacob nodded and sighed, resigned to the verdict. "Well, we should probably get going soon." He glanced past Bowman to Cerul, who still stood on the wide balcony with the sword resting in his hands. "We'll keep our eyes open for them while we move." Cerul smiled faintly and inclined his head in response, finding no more words to give them.

"You're right. It's time." Dean took a step back from the cottonwood tree, giving Cerul a respectful nod. They weren't the only people missing a friend. Sam and Scar both had a place with the sprites. It gave Dean a pang to remember the kids from earlier on in the afternoon, flocking around the small knight while he gave the smallest nestling a piggyback ride.

No matter what it took, they'd bring him back. Him and Scar. Dean refused to allow himself to believe Sam was dead after finally finding him again.

"Lead the way," Dean told Jacob. He wavered on his feet, and had to focus. If he let himself lose that focus, there was a chance he'd collapse. This far in the forest, that could be devastating. Jacob couldn't carry Dean miles on his back to get to the road.

Bowman darted past Jacob to get him started in the right direction, before flying back to the two humans. He wouldn't risk flying out too far ahead of them. An owl could still make an attempt at him, and their silent wings and powerful talons wouldn't give him a chance. He was too tired to pay the full attention he might normally give.

Once the lantern light was behind them and Jacob's flashlight was their only guide, Bowman hovered closer to him. He glanced back and saw Dean's wavering walk, and meandered through the air towards him. "Don't fall asleep out here. Squirrels will steal from your pockets," he quipped. Pockets that would fit a sprite, he realized belatedly.

It brought the memory of pointing excitedly at Sam's various pockets, wanting to know what they contained. The very first day Sam came to the forest, Bowman had been intrigued by him. He'd had no idea the boy with no wings would become his family.

Instead of flying along on wings that grew more and more tired the longer he flew without sunlight, Bowman took his spot on Dean's shoulder again. He may have only met the man today, but he'd considered Dean part of his family for a long time, thanks to Sam. "I'll make sure you stay awake," he quipped, nudging at the human's neck with the edge of his wing.

Dean tried to hold himself motionless at the small nudge. It was almost ticklish, and probably one of the stranger feelings he'd ever had against his neck. "That's probably a good plan," he admitted. He didn't bother deceiving himself. After the fight and Sam's disappearance, he was exhausted.

He would make it, though. There was enough determination stored in him to get back to his car. He wouldn't be able to help Sam if he didn't help himself, after all.

To pass the time, he tried to focus on the strange feeling of Bowman on his shoulder. It wasn't as odd as when Sam had landed on his head earlier on that day, but it was still something that would take getting used to. It was hard to believe that the tiny shifts and nudges were from an entire person, just chilling there. One that had grown up with Sam all the years Dean had thought him dead.

"What was it like, growing up with Sam?" Dean blurted out. He couldn't contain his curiosity, and there was a long walk back.

Bowman smirked faintly, remembering his upbringing with Sam around. Ahead, Jacob turned his head slightly to listen in, harboring his own curiosity that he hadn't had enough time to get to in the short time he'd known about the sprites. Bowman was suddenly a center of attention. He absently massaged his sore knees and came up with an answer.

"He was a lot bigger than me from the start, since I was still just a nestling. We ended up exploring a lot, I think he liked to see a lot of the village." He thought back on the days when he'd excitedly lead Sam around by the hand while his little wings fluttered. There was always a melancholy behind Sam's awe, and it had taken Bowman a little while to realize why.

Bowman smirked. "He's the only one around without wings in the way so he introduced us all to piggyback rides, as he calls them."

That brought a smile to Dean's face as he remembered the years growing up with Sam. "He did?" He laughed slightly. "Man, when he was little he always used to ask for piggyback rides. He was such a scrawny kid growing up."

Dean held out his hand to approximate how tall Sam used to be before the curse, then hesitated. "Well, I guess he's smaller now," Dean admitted mulishly, remembering just how light Sam was in his hand. Or standing on his head with the glider attached. "That's going to take some getting used to, but hey. I'll take it. Things haven't been the same since we lost him. Even dad…" He cut himself off. Some things just weren't worth bringing up with people he'd just met. It would only make them pity him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

"Things just haven't been the same," Dean finished simply.

Bowman didn't pry. He had a decent sense of when to leave a question unasked, despite what his curious nature might suggest. He had his own memories that he'd prefer to keep tucked away, and in that regard he and Dean had another thing in common.

Instead, he tried to bring the focus back away from something so sensitive by continuing. "He was always looking out for me growing up. And he always had stories about human stuff. He even showed me your letters. Always kinda thought they were way too blocky, but I guess everything is rectangles with humans, so..." He shrugged.

Jacob, unable to avoid overhearing, chuckled. "I didn't even notice that until Bowman ranted about it my first time out here."

Bowman rustled his wings pointedly. "Well, it's true. Sharp angles, everywhere." He shook his head and went on, still caught up in memories. "You shoulda seen his face the day he came home and said Lord Scar had taken him on as a knight in training. That came out of nowhere for everyone."

"Yeah?" Dean couldn't hold in a smile. The sight of Sam, so proud in his knight's uniform, was one to cherish. The rapier at his side didn't even look out of place with the way he carried it. He wore it like he knew what he was doing. "He paid close attention when I showed him how to use his knife. He always fought back against dad about the weapons we had to keep, especially once he had a gun to stick under his pillow. But the knife… that he knew how to use."

For a moment, he let himself drift. Remembering that night Sam had confronted him about what their dad did… that was the entire reason Dean had decided to make his younger brother a weapon of his own. Not some random piece of hardware their dad picked up at a pawn shop, but a weapon that had a story of its own. A story that was important to Sam. He knew it was the way to get through to him, and it had worked. Sam was determined afterwards to not let his big brother down, and had kept it by his side ever since.

Even all these years later, standing so much smaller than the knife once was, Sam had it at the ready. Holding it out to Dean with his adopted family trapped right under his boots, trusting his older brother to recognize it for what it was.

Trusting Dean to not snatch at him too.

Dean sighed, his eyes flashing to his shoulder to see where Bowman was. "All these years I thought Sam was gone, but he was here. Becoming a man to be proud of." He closed his good hand into a fist and let it drop by his side. "I hope I get the chance to tell him…"

"You will," Bowman assured him. He had to keep his voice confident to convince himself as much as anyone else. Bowman didn't know what might have happened, but he refused to let himself think of anything other than their success. They had to find Sam.

It couldn't turn into the search for Dean so many years ago, with everyone sadly giving up. It wouldn't, if Bowman had to comb the forest himself.

"You'll get to tell him right after I bop him for disappearing on me like this," he continued, patting a hand on Dean's shoulder. He had no idea if Dean even felt the gesture through the strange, thick material of his jacket, but he hoped that maybe the human heard it instead.

Dean let his head drop down, following after Jacob's trudging footsteps. He appreciated Bowman's confidence, but his own confidence level was closer to his boots as they crunched through the thick underbrush. He could remember a few close calls earlier that day with hidden rocks, and tried to concentrate on where he was going.

At least it was better than mulling over what was happening with Sam.

"We'll find him," Dean said to himself, trying to bolster his hopes. "Just gotta find a hospital first, then find out what happened to Bobby. After that, it's all Sam."

"That's ... that's right," Bowman answered, his brow knitting with worry. He could hear the unmistakable tone in Dean's voice, but he didn't need to. He was sitting on Dean's shoulder, so he could tell when they slumped in his exhaustion and worry. Dean had been on his own for so long, unlike Sam. Neither of them had known if the other was alive all this time, but at least Sam had people around him to take care of him.

"We're almost to the fence, then it's an easier walk to the main campground," Jacob pointed out. The flashlight swept from side to side and the leaves and twigs crunched under his boots.

A thought occurred to him and he glanced back at Dean. "What'd you wanna do about transportation? You're not driving with your arm in that condition."

Dean shook his head in denial before he remembered Bowman was sitting on his shoulder. "Shit, sorry."

Bowman's wings stretched out for balance before he situated himself again. "Don't worry about it," he muttered, trying to hide the surprise in his voice.

This was going to take some getting used to for both of them. Dean had never expected to have actual people on his shoulder or his head.

"I can't leave my car here," Dean tried to explain, just imagining what would happen if the police investigating the attack came across the sleek Impala parked on its own. "There's a few… things I can't afford the police taking a close look at." The weapons hidden under the false bottom of the trunk alone would drop him in jail, considering they weren't the most… legal. Add to that the fact that he was a man who was supposedly dead, and wanted for murder in St. Louis, and he'd be screwed. "I won't be much use to anyone if they do."

Jacob paused and glanced ahead to make sure he wasn't about to walk into anything. His gait slowed down as they considered the options, and only one presented itself to him if Dean wasn't going to leave his car. "I can drive it, then," he offered, knowing exactly how some people felt about others driving their car.

Before Dean could get a retort out, Jacob reinforced his argument with "I can just leave my car sitting around, since it's kind of a clunker and it has a pass on it for extended stays at the campgrounds anyway. You need to take it easy on that arm and there's no way you can shift gears with it like that right now." Jacob knew all too well what condition Dean's arm was in. He'd been the one to break it, felt the bones fracturing in his own hand.

Dean's lips thinned, hating that Jacob was right. He couldn't drive. His dominant arm was completely unusable, and barely set. The gear shift for the car was on the right side of the steering wheel, so changing that would be out of reach.

Shifting, he stuck his hand in his pocket, rifling around for the set of keys. "If you put a scratch on her…" Dean warned as he held them out. He'd poured his heart into that car. Jacob wouldn't be using her without Dean watching his every move.

The edge of his lips quirked up in a smile. "Then I'll let Bowman make good on his threats to bop you," Dean finished, remembering the earlier arguments when Bowman was being teased.

Jacob suppressed a laugh as he paused to take the keys in his hand. Bowman didn't bother to hold back his snickering, and they both knew that Bowman would not mind the opportunity at all. He threatened Jacob with bops all the time. "I'll keep that in mind," Jacob answered while he slipped the keys into his hoodie pocket for safekeeping.

A/N:

Events grow more dire in Wellwood, but Dean's not going to be any use to anyone if he doesn't get that broken arm set!Be sure to let us know what you think!

Next: March 1st, 2020 at 9pm EST.