Sorry it took so long to post this chap. I seem to have misplaced a couple of chapters along the way so I will have to re-write them - ratza fratza. R & R's are always welcome.
Same-o same-o disclaimer: don't own, don't make no money. Where is that pixie dust when I need it.
Chapter 6 Dust in the Wind
It was late afternoon when Sam woke, amazed at how good he felt. Sliding out of bed his first thoughts were of Dean. His brother had crawled beneath the covers but the bruises on his face, the split lip and the scratches on his shoulder were gone. Looking at his brother in amazement he reached for the covers and peered beneath at the smooth tanned skin of his brother's back. The scratches and bruises were gone.
Dean peeled an eyelid back as his brother lifted the covers. Snatching them back he grumbled, "Pervert."
Sam grinned and slapped his brother's leg ignoring the comment. "How do you feel?"
A grumpy Dean opened his mouth to tell him how lousy he felt only to stop when he realized he didn't feel bad at all, no aches, no pains, nothing. "What the hell," he whispered?
"Exactly," Sam echoed, noting that not all of those bruises were hunt related. Flicking his finger across his brothers back he saw the faint outline of yellow dust on the tip of his finger.
"Where's dad's journal," Dean asked leaping to his feet.
"I've already looked, I couldn't find anything helpful. It does mention Leprechauns, Fairies, Brownies and Pixies."
"Leprechauns, Fairies, Brownies and Pixies," Dean snorted in disbelief.
"What does that mean," Sam asked?
"Trouble," Dean grunted.
The Soul Shrieker they had encountered had been a fairy and the encounter had been far from pleasant. Dean shook his head wanting nothing more than to ignore the Leprechauns, Fairies, Brownies and Pixie conversation he asked, "How many sighting of mismatched creatures have been reported in the last couple of weeks?"
Fingers striking the keyboard alerted him to his brother's activity.
"At least four in the last week," Sam replied quietly. "Only two before that, Grizzly mutt is high on the list, but here's a news article on a malformed duck, half duck, half cat. This guy talks about environmental pollution, over population and scientific experimentation. Yet he says nothing conclusive about its origins.
Dean crossed the room to stand looking over his brother's shoulder. "Damn," he whispered when he saw the pictures displayed on the screen. The picture depicted a Duck with fur covered wings floundering around in the water. A Long black fur covered tail jutted out of the water behind it. A second creature had the head and neck of a rabbit with long silky ears and the body of an armadillo. "What the hell kind of crazy shit is going on here," he grumbled. A third creature came up a few minutes later. It had the head and arms of a squirrel the wings legs and tail of a chicken.
Going to the map he had pasted on the wall Dean tapped his fingers on the area. "Give me the locations Sam starting with the first sighting."
Sam leaned into his computer reading off the coordinate's one at a time, watching as Dean placed little colored marks on the map. When the last little dot in place they began to see a pattern. The creatures had spread out in a semi-circle from a point close to the lake
"Here," Dean stated as his finger traced the dots. "This is where everything seems to originate." The color coordinated dots gave them a semi-circular area close to the lake – a general vicinity but at least now they had a place to start.
In the corner sitting on the lampshade the two Pixies were brooding in silence. It was Buttercup who broke the silence first. "I think those little creatures are strange," she whispered.
"That ducky one is cute," Periwinkle chirped. "I love its long tail."
The little blue Pixie was bored. Having a human was fun, but only if she could annoy her sister. The little blue pixie rolled here eyes as she watched her sister stare and sigh at Dean. She loved her human – if the myriad of emotions running around in her little head could be called love – it was more like infatuation with the idea of being in love.
Buttercup on the other hand had been bitten and bitten hard. For the first time in her life she cared for something other than herself. She loved it when he smiled, hated it when he frowned or got hurt. She didn't want Periwinkle playing any more tricks on him, but couldn't figure out how to stop her.
Jumping off the lampshade Periwinkle hovered close to her sister's knees. "Come Buttercup," she whispered excitedly, "let's go play in the garden."
Buttercup heaved a sigh but didn't move.
Cajoling her sister into action she twirled in circles around her sister and pushed her off the lampshade. "I saw a great place to go swimming."
"Swimming," Buttercup asked wistfully, going outside would get Periwinkle away from the hunters so she couldn't annoy Dean, this was good.
"Yes, silly sister of mine – swimming. Your human will be fine and I need a bath."
Buttercup wrinkled her nose as she caught the aroma of stale beer and liquor floating in the air. "Ooh, do I smell like that," she asked in disgust?
"Worse," Periwinkle chuckled.
Seconds later the two little pixies were outside and in Aunt B's wonderful garden. A huge Bronze birdbath in the shape of a sunflower graced the center of the rose garden. The water was cool and fresh and the two pixies were in heaven.
Upstairs Dean lounged in a comfortable chair his father's journal open in his lap. Knowing he had no choice but to ask, "Does the journal say anything about the dust?"
"I found one small paragraph," Sam hesitated.
"And," Dean snarled?
"Pixie dust," Sam mumbled cautiously.
"PIXIE DUST," Dean echoed in disgust. "What the heck is pixie dust?"
"All the journal says is that Pixie dust holds magical properties."
Dean snorted, "Magical properties, like healing?" His mind went back to the bar and the dozen or so people acting like loonies, his voice dropped low, "And making people act wild and crazy?"
"The journal doesn't say much more than that."
Dean snarled again, "Pixies," he mumbled in disgust, "We're being hounded by a pixie?"
"More than one I think," Sam whispered.
"As if one isn't bad enough," Dean grumbled. "I need coffee, a big hulking mug of strong – black coffee, you coming?"