A/N:

Thanks to guest for the review!

Paper birds? Dean mouthed at Sam in some confusion, eliciting a smile from his younger brother.

"Paper airplanes," Sam corrected with the tone of someone who'd long since given up trying to argue with the name. "Y'know that pen I used to write down the exorcism with? That's not the only thing I had on me from the motel." His ears turned red at the memory, sheepish about taking stuff from the room. "I had the notebook they supplied the room with on me too. I think most of the pages ended up being used for paper airplanes."

"I'm surprised you didn't run off with the Bible," Dean joked, a full smile finally overtaking his face at the easy banter between them.

Sam rolled his eyes with a bitchy glare. Then it vanished to be replaced with a matching smile to Dean's. "I found out why my paper airplanes vanished so much when I found that Bowman would save every one he could."

Bowman's wings lifted a little, bristling with him in mock indignation. The paper airplanes he'd saved were probably still at the bottom of his trunk somewhere, along with his other few keepsakes. "Well, I liked them. And can ya blame me? Once you were out of paper, that was it. It's not like leaf boats where you can go get more anytime, right?"

"Leaf boats?" Jacob prompted before he could stop himself. He didn't want to break his way into their reunion or interrupt their catching up, but his curiosity was piqued.

Bowman twisted around to nod at him, hardly minding the interjection. "Leaf boats. We all fold them out of leaves we find lying around and race them down the stream. They usually float away so we never get to keep them." He faced front again and settled one of his wings on his lap to preen it absently.

"Sam figured out how to make bigger boats because he's so blasted strong," Bowman quipped, and there was something in his voice that suggested it lead to more than one good-natured scolding. "No sprite's nearly as strong as Sam is. I'm just lucky he didn't end up taller than me, too."

"Stronger?" Dean blurted, focusing right on that tidbit. "Sam's the strongest?"

Sam nodded, following suit with Bowman and pulling himself away from the ice. His movements were stiff as he nearly crawled over to his jacket and supplies. "We didn't notice until I was a teenager, but I suddenly just got stronger. A lot stronger. Scar tested it. I was the youngest knight, still learning, and he had all the other knights wrestle me, one by one. None of them come close."

While Dean digested that new information, Sam pulled his shirt on over his head, inordinately glad of the soft sprite-made fabric. It was cool and gentle against his bruises. The jacket and belt he left off for comfort's sake.

"That's pretty awesome," Dean decided at last. "My brother, the heavyweight hitter."

"He could pin down a snake with his bare hands since he was barely more than a boy," a gruff, tired voice joined in. Scar's eyes were open, but still clearly tired after the ordeal. Now that they'd escaped, a lot of his energy went towards his wing, leaving little for his body to use to keep the dozing at bay. "It takes a rare kind of strength to be able to keep Leafwing here from taking off."

Bowman rolled his eyes and his wings twitched. "I stayed on the ground 'cause I wanted him to be able to finish his glider," he countered hotly, trying to evade Scar's teasing. In truth, Sam only needed one hand on his wing to keep him from effectively taking off, preventing him from getting the right angle to take flight.

"You mean I kept you grounded so you could practice your Prayer," Sam corrected with a sly gleam in his eyes. Pausing, he frowned. "What happened to my glider?" he asked, realizing the last time he'd seen it, he'd left it on the ground to run and check on Bobby.

Right before being captured.

Dean's eyes softened. "We found it," he reassured Sam, his voice a soothing rumble. "I took it back to your place and put it in the garage. It'll be there waiting for you."

Bowman nodded to confirm the story. "It's in good shape. Ready to fly anytime," he assured him. Bowman might not be as in tune with the contraption as Sam had to be, but he had learned enough from him over the years to be able to check on most of it. In his desperate hope of gleaning what might have happened, Bowman had checked the glider the night before.

Now, they were bringing Sam back and he'd be able to double check it himself. That was no small relief for anyone there.

Scar shared in that feeling, and sighed. He remembered his own pride when Sam finally took to the air on his own. Once the only wingless knight was able to leave the ground behind, it had opened him to so much more.

Scar winced slightly as his cold wing throbbed with dulled pain. He scooted forward gingerly, careful to keep from jostling his injury. "A test flight will be in order, then," he mused. Then, looking ruefully at his wing again, he added, "Someday this wing will heal. Then you'll have to see us spar, Dean. Sam's shown you his flying but he's taken on many skills since arriving in Wellwood."

"You make it sound like you're wing will be out of commission for like a year," Sam said gamely to Scar. "Not just a week." He looked up at Dean. "Scar taught me everything I know about the sword." He pointed at Jacob. "I even got a good hit on him when we first met. He was so shocked to find us he grabbed Bowman. Never got a hold on me though." Sam was proud of that memory. Even landing on the back of Jacob's hand after his attack had worked well to confound his giant foe. Sam had just found himself dragged into the air along with the hand when Jacob flinched back from his blade.

"I can't wait to see you in action," Dean said. Hesitantly, he sat so he wasn't leaning on his arm and reached for the tiny rapier, pausing before he grabbed it until Sam nodded his permission. The tiny sword was almost weightless in Dean's hand but he could feel the cool metal and the edges were honed to a keen point. "I taught Sam what I could about his knife, but our lessons got cut off before we finished."

Sam patted his jacket. "I never leave my home without my knife," he assured his older brother.

"Me either," Dean said with a feral grin. He held out the sword on a finger, letting Sam take it back and place it with his jacket. Then, Dean sat the rest of the way up and slipped his hand into the inside of his leather jacket. The silver blade of his matching knife gleamed in the dim motel light.

The glint caught Bowman and Scar's attention, and even Jacob's gaze flickered to it from Dean's proud expression. Scar admired the construction of the blade. The sprites had several daggers in their armory, but not many of the knights knew how to use them. He'd been glad to help Sam continue his training with his own weapon, to the best of his knowledge.

"Sam's kept up with your lessons," he confirmed. "Every asset is accepted among the knights. I took the liberty of adding a few lessons of my own." Scar's voice, though tired, was full of nothing but pride for how far Sam had come, and he truly hoped to see a similar pride from Dean. Sam had worked hard.

"Waitasecond," Bowman interjected, still peering at Dean's shining blade. "Is that ... are you saying that Sam's blade is supposed to be that big?"

"Of course it is," Sam answered with a knowing grin. He had a hard time believing it himself now that he could see the sheer scale difference between their blades. "Dean's the one that made it."

"And this knife was a practice run for Sam's," Dean confirmed. "I needed to make sure I wouldn't fuck up Sam's present after all the planning that went into it." His eyes softened. "I can't wait to see what you've learned from the sprites. Maybe I could learn a trick or two myself."

"Or show us a trick or two," Sam pointed out. "I'd love to see what you've learned."

With a gleam in his eye, Dean agreed. "Deal." He tucked the knife away. It vanished into the folds of the leather jacket without a trace like so many other things before it. In fact, Sam, Bowman and Scar could all hide out inside with no one the wiser on the outside.

Sam held out a hand, offering to 'seal the deal' with his older brother. He managed to hide any sign of a flinch as Dean's fingers gently closed around his slim hand. They shook once, going up and down slowly so Dean didn't strain the tiny arm.

"Maybe there will even be a chance to show you the poisons the sprites use," Sam said as he took his arm back, amazed as always that humans could be so gentle. Especially after his experience with Bobby.

Jacob thought he might be interested in that topic, too. If not for fighting, then at least for his own wilderness skills; knowing more about what was poisonous couldn't hurt. Before he could chime in, he paused to listen to the sound of a car engine pulling up close to the door.

"I'm betting that's the food," he said, even as the muffled sound of a car door slamming reached them. Bowman and Scar's wings twitched and they glanced towards the door. Jacob pushed his chair back, announced "I'll get it," and then stood.

Scar watched warily as Jacob went to the door. His hand was on the knob before one knock even resounded around the room. When he opened it, he blocked the view into the room with his bulky frame. Even so, Scar was tense until he heard a thank you and Jacob stepped back into the room with a wide, flat box in his hands.

"What in the Spirit's dance is that?" he asked, voicing Bowman's sentiment as well.

"It's pizza," Sam said, brightening instantly as the familiar smells washed over him on the table. In all his years living with the sprites, as much as he loved the food they made, there was nothing quite like a combination of tomato sauce, cheese and crust like humans had come up with. He'd heard Jacob, who was used to the fact that sprite didn't eat any meat, order vegetarian on half of the pie, which would give them all plenty to choose from without any worry. "One of my favorite foods when I was growing up."

"It's a staple," Dean agreed as he made room for the pizza box past the three tiny guys resting with their ice packs. The first aid kit was put back together and dropped on the floor next to his chair.

"It's got cheese on it," Sam told Bowman. "It's a bit different than the kind Jacob let us try before, but it's really good. And tomatoes, and crust, along with vegetables on it. Just stay away from Dean and Jacob's side. It'll have meat on it. They made sure to get some that we could eat without worrying about that."

"They better have," Bowman answered absently, watching the wide flat box lower to the table in Jacob's hands. The smell of the food washed over them like a breeze, and he could see the air wavering just above the box in a heat haze. Most of the smells were entirely new to him, and when Jacob moved the pile of napkins that came with the box to the side, Bowman sat up straighter to peer curiously over the box.

The lid lifted away, and the food within the box threw off even more heat haze. "Woah," Bowman muttered, staring at the strange mixture of unfamiliar vegetables, cheese, and what he assumed was the meat Sam mentioned all arranged farthest from them. Jacob picked up one of the pieces, and Bowman's wings fanned at the sight of the cheese melting over the side at first before it broke away.

Jacob set the piece aside for them on a few napkins and pushed it closer, and Bowman pointed at it. "Hey, it's got mushrooms on it," he realized, finally recognizing something about the steaming hot food.

Sam got up, grinning at that as he pulled his own knife from his jacket. "That's right." With Bowman's legs injured and Scar needing to keep his wing in place to avoid jarring it, Sam decided to get everyone's food. He didn't pay any mind to Dean reaching over to snag his own piece covered in pepperoni.

The heat haze rising from the pizza was warm against Sam's hands. Sprites did warm water to make pine tea, but using heat like that wasn't anywhere near as common as it was with humans. Not to mention heating the water or food was strictly done with Prayer and not fire the way humans did, leaving it another thing that Sam couldn't do and he'd have to drag Bowman to his home. The sprite was resigned to it.

His knife made it easy to slice away three pieces of the pizza. He was certain to get mushroom on both Scar and Bowman's pieces, and took all three back, balanced precariously on his hands. "Here we go," Sam murmured as he dropped one off with Scar and the other with Bowman, then gave them both a hopeful look as he took his own seat with his slide. "It's good," Sam promised as he lifted up his to take a bite.

Jacob paused with his own slice of pizza in hand, watching the two sprites look over their portions of pizza. The pieces looked almost comically large in their hands, like deep-dish pizza on steroids. Scar nearly fumbled his right to the tabletop as he shifted to sit up straighter.

Bowman was first to try it. He blinked and raised his eyebrows in appreciation for the flavor, though he stopped to let it cool down a bit. "I suppose it's good," he determined, picking at a piece of mushroom sticking out of the cheese. "Never thought of cooking mushrooms before."

Jacob smirked and finished off his first bite of pizza before answering. "That's actually how most humans eat them, if they eat them at all." Scar scoffed quietly at the notion, but nibbled on his own food curiously.

"You humans and your endless weirdness," Bowman quipped, flicking his wings before settling them on the table behind him to relax.

"Humans cook most of their food," Sam said with a grin, glad for things to be going back to their normal banter about how strange his people were. It was what he'd done with Bowman since his curse. Constant arguments about corners, size, food… and it was always entertaining.

"Who cares about mushrooms," Dean mumbled around his own slice. "Give me some pepperoni or sausage any day." He wrinkled his nose when Sam waved a mushroom over his head and then pointedly took a bite out of it.

Some things never changed.

A/N:

Jacob might want to lay off the mushrooms... ;)

Next: May 6th, 2020 at 9pm EST.

Leave us a review to let us know how you're liking the story so far