A/N:

Bobby chuckled, but he did return Sam to the cage, setting him down instead of letting him drop on his head. "That's some excellent progress, sprite. We'll assume you're going to behave for now, and see how it goes." They were moving again, down the hallway to who knew where, and Bobby was so unconcerned with his captives being able to escape that he hadn't even latched the cage door yet.

But Scar wasn't watching their surroundings. His concern was focused on the knight beside him. "Are you hurt?" he asked Sam quietly.

Sam shook his head. "It's just bruises," he replied just as quietly. He shifted so he was sitting next to Scar, warily watching Bobby like he was expecting to get snatched up all over again. Those massive hands got nothing but suspicion from the young knight as he watched them from inside the cage.

Once Sam was certain Bobby wasn't going to pull a 180 and grab him again, he brought his leg close and rolled up the cuff. The boots had helped guard him from some of the bruising, but there were already dark splotches running up to his knee. With a wince, he gingerly stretched out the leg and pushed the cuff down so Bobby wouldn't latch onto it as yet another way to lord over them.

The human's swaying walk drew Sam's attention next, and he watched their surroundings pass by with an intent eye in the hopes of giving himself some sort of idea of how the house was set up.

Passing the kitchen again, Bobby briefly went through a living room. The cheery decor in the immaculately-organized room was, once again, a strange contrast to the situation both knights had been taken into. Scar might have been curious about the gigantic furnishings and things in the room, but he could only glare sullenly as it all passed them by.

Bobby chose the study, through a door just off the living room. There was a large desk and several shelves lined with books, file folders, and some statues and trophies. A window showed a view of the expansive backyard. Bobby set the cage on the desk and took the chair, blocking the outdoors from view.

While Bobby checked the drawers of the desk for something, Scar glanced around the room, his good wing fanning nervously. The room wasn't any more square than the others, but it felt much more overwhelmingly foreign, especially seen through cage bars.

Bobby spoke absently while he searched for something. "This is dad's office. I'd get used to the wallpaper, 'cause once he sees you guys he'll probably want this thing," he flicked the bars absently, "kept in here."

Sam flinched at the loud clang that rang through them and vibrated their world. It passed and he went back to staring blankly at their surroundings. The thought of another human having his hands on them was anathema, but it might end up being their only escape from Bobby's harsh treatment.

"Scenic," he quipped, his tone flat and humorless. "Could use some fresh air though."

"Yeah, you would complain about it, wouldn't you," Bobby grumbled, still opening the drawers on the desk and rifling through the things in them.

Scar glanced at the unlocked cage door and noticed that Sam's strength would probably be enough to push it open. He would just need a little boost and he could push the door right open. Suddenly it became clear what Bobby was looking for; he needed something to secure their door.

"You understand that we're not accustomed to being caged up, don't you?" Scar asked steadily. When Bobby glared in his direction for a moment, there was no sign of snark on his face. It was merely an observation. "You can't blame us for being restless."

"I'll blame you for whatever I like," Bobby answered with a smirk, before finally sitting up straight with something pinched in his fingers. "But I doubt you can do more than rattle the bars."

Scar watched the strange black-and-silver thing in Bobby's fingers warily. With an increase in pressure on the two silver extensions on it, the black part opened up. This he clamped over the top of the cage door, clipping it to the cage itself so it wouldn't be so easy for Sam to shove open. It was also high out of their reach.

"Nice and cozy," Bobby determined, though there was no sign that he really cared about their comfort in the dusty old cage. "Maybe if you're good I'll even give you something to sleep on."

Sam watched the new clip on their door, a poker face to rival Dean's in place to keep his thoughts from showing.

If he could reach that, he could get it open.

It wouldn't be easy, but he was confident in his strength and his grip. He'd climbed the home trees before (to the chagrin of the sprites around him). If he ever got a hand on a sprite, they couldn't pull away (to the chagrin of Bowman when he was trying to sleep in). Sam had taken on all the other knights one after the other at arm wrestling and bested them all. It wasn't a stretch to call him the strongest knight in Wellwood.

Now, he could put that to use.

"We'll need our beauty rest if you want to show us off," Sam pointed out, glancing away from the clip that trapped them. "Can't have us all bruised and beaten and exhausted at the same time, right?"

Bobby's hand twitched, and the corner of his mouth followed suit a full second later. He looked ready to unleash a retort, while also barely refraining from knocking the cage to the floor. He opened his mouth to sling another insult Sam's way.

And then the doorbell rang.

It was the fancier kind, with several melodic chimes echoing in the halls. Scar's gaze whipped towards the door while Bobby's flickered lazily in the direction of the front of the house. It could be a delivery or maybe even some cop coming to fact-check him. He couldn't leave either waiting without dealing with more interruptions later.

"I'll deal with you in a minute," Bobby warned ominously as he stood. He stepped hurriedly around the desk and, mere seconds later, he was gone, his footsteps echoing away down the hall.

Scar sighed heavily before finally pushing himself to his feet. Standing when Bobby was nearby seemed pointless; the human took every chance he could to knock them down. He thought it made him seem bigger, but in truth, Scar thought less of him every time, and he didn't start out with a great opinion of the boy.

"Sam, that ... thing on the door. Could you move it?"

Sam took a deep breath as he followed, relishing in the moments he was free of Bobby's scrutiny. Then, he focused on the task at hand while the burn on his neck slowly faded. "Yeah, I could," Sam told Scar with a smile blossoming on his face. "And I'll even know when Bobby's coming back."

The study offered them plenty of places to hide. All they had to do was get out and get off the table. With the bright color of their uniforms, and Scar's vivid green wings, they'd need to find cover instantly, but once they were out there was a chance. Then all they had to find was a door or a crack or an open window and they could escape.

Sam stared up at the clip that stood in their way, gauging how high up it was. "I can do it." He was confident in that, at least. "I just have to reach it."

Scar let himself chuckle briefly, a short sound that carried his pride with it. He remembered discovering that Sam held strength much greater than any sprite. It was one of his fondest memories, seeing his youngest student besting all of the veteran knights one by one in a test of strength. Lessons like that didn't come every day, and he loved a chance to shake things up among the fighters.

Striding to the door, Scar knelt, lacing his hands together and beckoning Sam to him with his good wing. "I can at least make that happen," he assured Sam. Scar might not be as strong, or at his full strength by any means, but he would weather what he needed to to get them out of there.

Bobby's voice started up in the distance, greeting whomever had called him away. "I will thank the Spirit for their timing if we make it."

"You and me both," Sam agreed darkly. He stepped up and let Scar boost him into the air with effort. Two hands clamped around the metal bars that made up their cage. If the cage was for a larger bird they would be able to just slip right out. Despite his small size his grip was like steel and Sam latched right on.

It took a moment for him to find a better position to reach the clip, and Sam went to reach out and grab it…

Then the voice of the person who was talking to Bobby started up, and Sam fumbled his grip and nearly slipped down.

Dean?!

A rush of emotion hit Sam at the familiar rumble and tears pricked at the sides of his eyes. "Dean," he echoed his thoughts, unable to articulate further than his brother's name. "Dean!"

Scar wobbled and gasped. He could barely hear the voice out there through his focus on the task at hand. He was not built for lifting things for long periods of time, and though he had the strength in him to hold Sam up, he didn't want to risk letting him fall by shaking too much.

"Sam," he said, his voice mildly strained. "The door. We can try to get to him." It was their one chance. If Dean was there, then they had to try to get his attention.

There wouldn't be another opportunity before Bobby came back to retaliate against Sam for his latest snarky comment, and Scar didn't want to think about what might happen.

"Right." Sam turned his attention to the task at hand, his determination renewed. If Dean caught sight of them, it wouldn't matter if Bobby was in the way. Whatever reason the hunter had paid the teen a house call for, it would all change in a second if he knew they were inside.

If there was anyone in the world they could rely on, it was Dean.

Sam slung one arm through the bars and one on the inside. The metal of the clip was cool to the touch as he worked his fingers between the sides.

Then, he pulled.

There was no obvious reaction at first. Sam grunted, his ribs straining in pain at the effort. The metal started to give, then an opening formed. Sweat dripped down Sam's forehead, and he pushed the clip so it wasn't over the door of the cage, then let it go with a snap.

The metal clip flew away from the cage, falling to the ground with a clatter. Sam felt himself slump down against the door, taking a second to catch his breath.

Dean's voice echoed in the background. Need to get to him.

Scar kept his gaze fixed upward even as he crouched down again to let Sam to the floor. His uninjured wing quivered, and the one bound with sword belts ached. Scar's body had been through a lot in the last twenty four hours.

Nothing he couldn't handle. Life could be tough for a knight, but he would never stop fighting if he saw the opportunity.

He had to shove aside whatever thoughts tried to encroach to distract him. What Bobby might do if he caught them, what they'd do next. It was all irrelevant. For now, they needed to get the door of the cage open.

Scar put his hands on the bars to scan the top of the desk around them. "Do you think the sides are climbable?" he asked, deferring to the expert in that department. Sam, who had no wings of his own, had become far more skilled at climbing than most of the knights ever bothered. Scar had some practice with it, but he too had fallen into taking the easy way out more often than not. Wings were there for a reason.

Sam stood on his tip toes and shoved at the door of the cage. It didn't go willingly, but it pushed open with a squeak of protest. He eyed up the edges of the desk as he perched half in, half out of the cage. "Probably like climbing a sheer cliff," he gauged. "I didn't get a chance to see if there's any carvings on the side." Locking himself in place with a boot between the bars, Sam held out a hand to help Scar with his injured wing up and pointed with his other hand.

"We're climbing that."

There was a lamp, a fancy one with ornate carvings along the metal column, standing on the corner of the desk and tilted towards the clear area. Behind it, a power cord curled over the edge of the desk.

Scar took Sam's offered hand and clambered over the edge of the doorway, planting his boots on the surface of the desk. His good wing stretched out, grateful for the short stay in the enclosed space compared to spending a night in the tall jar.

He peered critically at the thing Sam pointed out, noting the metal and the decorative carvings along it. It was as inscrutable as anything else in the human's dwelling as far as he was concerned. Scar didn't waste time asking what it was for. His eyes eventually dropped to the strange rope attached to it and leading over the edge of the desk.

Compared to climbing a sheer cliff, it only barely looked like a step up. Scar pursed his lips and frowned skeptically.

"Are you sure that will work? It looks awfully slick," he pointed out. Indeed, there was a dull gleam on whatever that material was. Scar could only imagine trying to grip it and make his way down, only to slide too fast to correct it. Breaking on the floor for Bobby to come and find them and throw another little tantrum didn't appeal to him at all. "I believe you'll have to give me a few pointers."

"It won't be as slick as it looks," Sam commented. He swung his other leg over the cage and hopped out. The painful bruises on his legs ruined a perfect landing and he stumbled. He let out a groan, and pulled himself up straight. "The electrical cord should be easy to hold onto, especially compared to the side of the desk. Humans coat the wood with something that makes them… slick. So they don't get splinters."

He started to walk over, and then began to run. Dean's voice echoed in the distance, and the door in the room taunted Sam. They were so close… and they needed to get to Dean before he left.

They had to. This was their one chance.

Sam skid to a halt, his hand touching the cord to see how it would be for climbing. He nodded to himself, then glanced back at Scar. "You ready or did you want a piggyback ride down?" he joked, offering the cord to the sprite first.

Scar made his way to the edge of the desk to peer over the side. It was a long way down. The drop might not necessarily kill him, but it would ruin his legs for certain and probably his spine. His one good wing wouldn't stop a crash landing. Suddenly emergency wingsuits on the other knights' jackets seemed like a good idea.

"I don't think now's a good time to learn how to climb like a squirrel," he pointed out gruffly. Dean's voice said something in the distance, and Bobby answered him. Their time was limited. Scar turned towards Sam with a flick of his good wing.

"Looks like this time you'll have to carry me," he pointed out.

Scar would never forget the first time he met Sam. Finding a cold, scared little boy out in the woods had gotten to even his guarded heart. Sam had clung to him tightly while they flew back to the village, his tears soaking into Scar's jacket. Now, Scar would have to hang onto Sam or risk falling several feet straight to the harsh ground.

Sam laughed at that, and turned away from the sprite. "That's right, isn't it. We've come full circle." He held his arms out to the side and let Scar clamber on. The lack of wings on his back was what made it possible. The entire concept of a piggyback ride was a new one for the sprites. Bowman especially had been enamoured of the idea when he was a nestling, always asking, demanding, a ride. Sam could never say no, and more than once the little fluttering sprite on his shoulders would be getting honeycomb down from the highest shelves.

In this case, Scar was larger than the nestlings but still not heavy. The older sprite was slim compared to the cursed human, and stood a head shorter. He would barely weigh Sam down even with the wings now sticking out from his back.

"Don't worry about grabbing me too tight. The bruises will heal, whatever Bobby does to us if we got stuck here won't."

Especially for him. There was no doubt in Sam's mind that Bobby had plans for him after his last offhand comment.

For being so full of himself, Bobby had awfully thin skin.

Once Scar was situated, Sam grasped the cord. He peered off the edge of the desk, gauging the height they had to travel. It wasn't the highest he'd ever come down from but normally he wasn't working under a time constraint.

"Alright. Hold on tight."

Sam swung off, letting himself drop below the level of the surface of the desk. Only then did he tighten his grip so the travel was slower and safer. He kept an ear towards the towering door, listening to the conversation out by the front door.

Which was wrapping up.

He didn't need to know what Dean was saying to recognize that tone of voice. They were almost finished and Bobby would be stomping back into the study in no time at all.

And Dean would be gone. Taking any chance of a rescue with him.

"C'mon," Sam gritted between his teeth, encouraging himself as he loosened his grip and dropped down somewhat faster than was safe.

It didn't matter. He'd only passed the halfway point when the sound of a door slamming shut came to them.

Dean was gone, and he wasn't coming back.

A/N:

Uh oh

Next: April 15th, 2020 at 9pm EST.

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