"Dean!" Sam shouted, trying to shake Nixie. She didn't respond, going limp in his arms. The only reaction he manage to get from her was when her bright white eyes reopened, staring blankly at the world around them. "We've gotta get out of here! I don't think her barrier will last much longer!"
Dean cursed. The lead sprite sent a ball of fire at them again, splashing harmlessly against the barrier. But Sam was right - the barrier shrank under the assault, almost brushing Dean's head now. He scanned the world past the barrier, spotting a door that was almost burnt to a crisp. "Hang on!"
Considering how tight his fist was closed around the tiny people in his grasp, those words didn't matter as much as he thought. Sam held Nixie close in his arms, shivering in Dean's grip as he closed his own eyes. He understood all too well the ride was about to get bumpy, and he worked to keep his rising panic down.
Dean rammed into the door, smashing what was left of it to bits. His hand instinctively tightened around Sam at the violent motion, trying to cushion his fragile passengers from the shock. Running, Dean tossed himself through the remains of the second door, bursting outside into the fresh air. The house groaned behind them as the fire sprites went into a frenzy, raging at the loss of their targets.
Turning around, Dean shielded his eyes as he saw parts of the house collapse behind them, fueled by the raging anger in the fire. "Holy..." he trailed off at the sight, awed by the sheer power shown in the display.
Out of the door spilled a flight of sprites, one last blast demolishing the only house left standing on the block. Dean dove into a sprint, heading for the car as fast as he could. "Sam, get her to drop the barrier!" Dean snapped as he ran. With the watery magic sealing them off from the world, he'd never be able to get into the car.
"How, Dean?" Sam demanded, still trying to get a rise out of her. The fingers relaxed around them, giving him a bit more room to work with despite the persistent pounding that surrounded them from Dean's powerful strides as he ran. A constant earthquake shook the world around them. "Nixie, you've gotta be okay. Please, we need your help!"
She didn't respond, staring blankly into space. Sam shivered a little at the solid white eyes, all trace of blue gone. There was no compassion or understanding left in her as she lay there, and her spell continued on relentlessly.
"C'mon Nixie, please! Drop the barrier!"
At this, the blue sparkles faded from around Dean, the water crashing to the ground around them and splashing Dean's pants and the side of the Impala. Wasting no time, Dean dove in the car and started it up.
The Impala screeched backwards as the fire sprites swarmed around her. Dean growled as one sent a fireball their way, barely swerving out of the way in time. Switching to drive, Dean floored it, slamming his boot harshly down on the pedal. Sam clutched Nixie close, holding the insensate sprite as safe as he could as the car accelerated. Events were far beyond his control now.
With an furious screech, Ilyana sent one last fireball at the car, ramming the passenger's side next to the engine before they could get away. Dean's curses filled the air as he drove desperately away, black smoke pouring out from under the car.
Impatient, Bobby poked at the hotdogs cooking in the saucepan, silently willing them to cook faster. He was attempting to catch a quick bite to eat while the phones were quiet.
The hunter network he ran was not as large as it had once been, especially with hunters like a certain John Winchester that insisted on flying solo, but it was enough to keep him busy most hours of the day. He'd get calls asking for forgotten lore, calls from people calling to verify that so-and-so had actually been sent to X town, and was the FBI really checking into this type of case now? He kept a calm tone as he constantly talked his way out of the bureaucratic tangles that the hunters had managed to dig themselves into.
So far, this had been one of his busiest days in over a month, with the phones ringing off the hook. He hadn't been able to catch a break since six that morning.
Today was turning into one of those days.
The sun was setting on the horizon as he finished cooking his belated lunch, dropping the hot dogs onto a plate with a few slices of bread and some of the last dredges from his ketchup bottle. Rumsfeld was stretched out on one of the cars outside, keeping a sharp eye on his domain as he rested in the waning sunlight. Bobby had been working on that same car not long ago before surrendering it to the dog as he retired to watch the phones.
Golden rays stretched over the junkyard, lighting up the world one last time when a familiar rumble could be heard making its way up the driveway. Bobby brushed his hands off, trying to clean up a little for his unexpected company. Hopefully it wasn't any nosy law enforcement prowling around and sticking their noses where they didn't belong. That was the last thing he needed today.
He was on his way to the front door when he realized he knew the purr of that engine. "Balls! " Bobby hissed. He darted for the door, praying he'd be in time.
Sure enough, the familiar creak of the Impala's door opening came, right as Bobby reached the entryway. He fumbled with the doorknob at the same time as Rumsfeld caught a whiff of their visitors - both of them.
"Woof! Woof! Woof!" Rumsfeld came barreling-ass around the side of the house. Bobby managed to yank open the door, almost ripping it off the hinges in his rush.
Dean was backed against the hood of the Impala, almost climbing up his car to get away from the massive Rottweiler. His curses reached Bobby's ears unhindered. One hand was clutched against his chest with a blue shimmer shining through the fingers, and the other hand was braced on his shoulder, wrapped around another small figure. Bobby could even make out Sam's small hands as he tried to push Dean's hand out of the way to see what was going on.
"Rumsfeld! Down!" Bobby shouted as he almost leapt down the stairs. It was sheer dumb luck Dean had his hands full or he might have pulled a gun on the apparent threat to Sam there and then.
Finally catching up to Rumsfeld, Bobby grabbed his collar, yanking him back from the hunter to give Dean and Sam some space. The dog continued growling, his eyes flashing between Dean and the hand covering Sam.
"Calm down, Rumsfeld!" Bobby concentrated on talking to the dog, hoping to get him to relax.
"What the hell, Bobby?!" Dean was incensed. "What's he want with Sam?"
Rumsfeld started to drag Bobby forward in his eagerness to get to Sam.
"It's not Sam he's growlin' at, Dean. It's you. He thinks you're trappin' Sam and is tryin'ta help." Bobby gave a sharp tug on the collar.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean demanded in his confusion. "Help Sam? Why's he trying to help Sam?" His attention switched to the dog. "Rumsfeld, you know me! It's just Dean! "
Bobby was already shaking his head no. "Don't matter. Rumsfeld's had experience with people like Sam before. He knows they don't like humans and he's just tryin' to get Sam free. He'd react the same way if I was the one holding Sam, 'man's best friend' or not."
Dean's mouth fell open at the revelation, shocked into silence. In the sudden quiet, Bobby realized he could hear Sam trying to get Dean to open his hand.
"Well?" Bobby demanded, his grip on Rumsfeld tight. "Whatcha waitin' for? I doubt Sam enjoys bein' held like that." He didn't doubt the trust between the boys, but no one could want an immovable hand walled between them and the world, and lord knows Dean could be a stubborn son of a bitch to live with.
Dean came back to himself. "Uh... right. Sorry, Sammy." His hand unfurled from his brother, revealing the small hunter standing there.
Even though he already knew what to expect, Bobby couldn't help staring in surprise at Sam. He was so small - yet also perfectly comfortable standing on Dean's shoulder, trusting his safety to the older hunter without a qualm. They were as different as night and day - Dean came off as dark and intense, a runaway freight train on hunts, while Sam came off as soft spoken and curious, not to mention hard to notice - each trait complementing the other, making them a surprisingly effective team.
Rumsfeld whined when Sam was revealed, continuing to try and reach Dean. "C'mon, boy. Dean's not hurtin' him, see?" Bobby rubbed his head reassuringly.
Sam said something that was lost under the dog's whines. "Absolutely not! " Dean barked in response, fear slipping past his gruff demeanor.
"What?" Bobby asked. "What did Sam say?"
Dean glared at Bobby in annoyance. "Nothing, Sam said nothing."
"I wasn't born yesterday, boy," Bobby said warningly. "Now, tell me what your brother said, or I'll watch Rumsfeld chase your sorry ass outta here. Me an' Sam'll make popcorn."
Dean stood firm under his glare for a few seconds more, enough time for Sam to say something else to him, laying a miniscule hand against Dean's neck. Bobby's eyebrows climbed all the way to his trucker cap as Dean visibly softened, a sight Bobby had never thought possible from the jaded hunter. "He said... if Rumsfeld's really safe... he'd like to try petting him." Dean gave Bobby a crooked grin. "Sam always wanted a dog growing up." His eyes hardened again to the Dean that Bobby had grown used to. "But only if you're absolutely sure Sam's safe with Rumsfeld."
Bobby gave both brothers a solemn nod. He'd never risk Sam on a 'maybe.' "I'd stake my life on it."
Dean scoffed at that as he offered his free hand up to Sam. "Just remember, Sam's life is being staked on it."
Once Sam was standing in Dean's hand, the hunter knelt down, holding Sam out in front of him. Bobby's breath caught at the sight. Cornered between the hunter and the dog, Sam was almost lost if you glanced quickly at the scene. He was absolutely miniscule, but from what Bobby could see, far more calm and collected than Dean himself at the moment.
Bobby inched closer, with Rumsfeld continuing to strain at his collar. Sam stretched out a small hand for the dog to sniff the way he'd been taught as a child, bravely standing his ground.
Rumsfeld managed to get enough slack to bump his nose against Sam's chest, happily snuffling the small hunter. Dean's hand tensed under Sam, but otherwise remained motionless as they both waited to see what happened.
Sam let out a relieved laugh at Rumsfeld's nuzzle, leaning over to rub the dog's snout with both hands. "Look, Dean! I think he likes me!" Sam stated proudly. With Bobby standing closer, his voice could finally be heard, though it was soft compared to the other noises around.
"Guess he does," Dean said, his voice coated in surprise. Though Rumsfeld was clearly continuing to give Dean a wary stare, there was nothing but affection in him when he nuzzled Sam.
Sam twisted around, glancing straight up to meet Dean in the eyes. "Mind putting me down?" he asked, his hazel eyes locked on Dean's.
A slight scowl passed over Dean's face at the question, but he willingly lowered his hand for the smaller hunter. The moment Sam slipped to the ground, Rumsfeld lay flat on the ground and stretched out on his stomach to be on the same level as Sam. He happily snuffled the small Winchester again, rubbing his head against Sam to show his affection. It was nothing short of an amazing sight as the Rottweiler deferred to the small man. The entire time, Rumsfeld kept a wary eye cocked at the two humans, determined to protect his new friend.
Dean stood up once he was absolutely certain Sam was alright down there, giving his brother some space. He glanced at Bobby. "How did you know?" he asked as he gestured at Sam.
Bobby shrugged. "Like I said. I've seen Rumsfeld interacting with little guys like Sam before, in the field behind the junkyard. He chased me off before I could get too close, and as far as I can tell, he considers them part of his family. Don' matter if it's you or me, he won't let us close to them."
Dean considered that quietly, staring down at his small brother by his boots. Sam had a broad smile on his face while he rubbed Rumsfeld's soft snout, ignoring the two humans nearby. He didn't even react to the boots that shifted nearby. "So there are some that live out in the wilderness?" Dean asked curiously.
"They're the only ones I've seen livin' that way," Bobby said. "Otherwise, they make their homes in human buildings. It's safer by far, considering how many animals out there might make a snack out of them. Hawks, snakes, raccoons, badgers... the list goes on. I've seen Rumsfeld chasing down animals before, keeping them away from the place I gather they live." He took in Dean's state curiously, then the car. Scorch marks covered the passenger side of the Impala, small puffs of smoke slipping out from under the hood from time to time. From the look of things, including the burns on Dean's arms and leg, they'd barely made it out in one piece. "So, what brings you boys here?"
Dean frowned, and held out his other hand. A small, blue girl sat there, with delicate dragonfly wings stretched out from her body. Her small, white eyes stared blankly into nothing, showing no reaction to the giant human holding her. "We got attacked in a house, and Sam summoned Nixie here to help us. But I'm not sure what happened to her, she hasn't responded since we left the house."
Bobby gestured Dean into the house. "You'll have to give me all the details. I made hot dogs."
Dean smirked at that. Going to pick Sam up, he reached a hand out to his brother. Before it had a chance to get close, Rumsfeld growled and hovered protectively over the small hunter. Dean flinched back in surprise, glancing up at Rumsfeld. "It's just me, boy. It's Dean," he tried cajoling the dog, hopefully trying to get his hand closer.
No go. The dog simply lowered his head closer over Sam, continuing his growl.
Sam broke the stalemate, walking out from under Rumsfeld's jaw. "It's okay, boy. That's my big brother Dean." Sam gave Dean a warm smile, his small face upturned. "He's harmless."
With Sam's encouragement, the dog backed off and begrudgingly allowed Dean to scoop his brother off the ground. "I wouldn't gothat far," Dean grumbled, "We both know how dangerous I can be by accident."
Sam kicked at one of his fingers. "And we both know you're more careful than anyone else. So deal with it, you mostly harmless hunter."
Bobby led the way into the house, wisely staying out of the argument. Rumsfeld trailed after Dean and his new buddy, nose in the air.
A few minutes later, Sam was settled on a plate on the kitchen table, eating his way through a chunk of the hotdog Bobby had cut up for him moments ago. He didn't flinch in surprise as a fork dropped down from the sky, spearing a different piece of hotdog the size of Sam's torso. Nor did he flinch when Dean ate it above him in one easy bite, finishing off the rest of the last hotdog.
Bobby stood away from the table, leaning against the counter while he morosely watched the remains of his dinner get devoured by the Winchester boys. Dean had already finished off the other three hotdogs before asking Sam "You gonna eat that?" and shamelessly jabbing his fork at the untouched pieces of Sam's hotdog. Considering the hotdog alone was longer than Sam was tall, no one had been surprised when Sam had shrugged it off, letting Dean start in on his portion.
Bobby had been surprised, however, when Sam elected to sit on Dean's plate for lack of a better place to eat. It wasn't so much the spot itself, with Sam comfortably stretched out with his boots pointed towards the center of the plate.
It was the fact that he was sitting on a plate, barely four inches tall, completely relaxed while a comparative giant ate all the food surrounding him, some easily as big as he was. And that was aside from the fact that one slip-up by Dean with that fork could easily break another of Sam's bones.
No one he had ever met had trust like them Winchesters.'
Not to mention, Dean had never been the neatest eater. Yet there Sam was, contentedly picking apart his own head-sized hunk of hotdog and calmly dipping it in the puddle of ketchup right next to him (one of the few things on the plate Dean hadn't touched, for Sam's sake), while Dean went to town on everything else.
Bobby's stomach growled at him as the last of his food vanished, dissatisfied with the outcome. He put a hand on it to quell the rumbles, not regretting the use the food had gone to in the end. Both boys had arrived looking like hell warmed over. Burns on Dean's legs showed through the singed and blackened denim, and even Sam has a small burn mark on his jacket sleeve, though he'd assured both Dean and Bobby it hadn't actually been able to hurt him. Bobby wasn't sure if he believed Sam, and he knew forsure that Dean didn't. Both of them had let it slide for the moment, in lieu of getting some hot food in them.
Bobby sighed. Well, hot food in Dean and Sam, at least. There's chicken noodle soup in the pantry, he tried to reassure himself.Might be a year or two old, but a little age never hurt anyone...
The final member of their motley crew, Nixie the water sprite, had been placed on a plate of her own. Her blank white eyes continued to stare out at the world around her, focusing on nothing yet seeing everything. She didn't even twitch a muscle at the movement around her. A spray of dandelion leaves had been left by her side, still coated in water droplets from their attempt to clean off any toxins from the car fumes in Bobby's junkyard. With food short in Bobby's house, it had been the best he had to offer to the resident vegetarian.
Not even that had served to draw her from her stupor. Bobby was certain the only reason she hadn't toppled over in her seat had been the way Sam had placed her, making sure her weight wasn't leaning to one side or the other. Her wings propped up behind her, the lower sections slanted against the table and the higher sections stretched to their fullest.
Once Dean had finished off the last scraps of hotdog on his plate aside from what Sam had in his hands, he leaned back with a content sigh, folding his hands over his stomach. Rumsfeld grumbled at the movement, laying next to Dean's feet in an attempt to keep as close to Sam as possible. He was clearly against Sam remaining on the table, so close to the two humans, but had taken Sam's reassurances to heart for the moment.
Bobby crossed his arms, focusing on Dean now that the boy had finished his meal. "So, mind clueing me in on why you boys gatecrashed my house without callin' ahead?"
Dean quirked an eyebrow at Bobby with a slight eye roll in response. "Oh, I didn't realize we needed to call ahead and make reservations for Casa Del Bobby. My bad. We'll make sure to do that next time, don't you worry."
"Right, well, next time, you better remember other hunters visit here from time to time. The last thing any of us need is the wrongtype'a hunter findin' out about Sam. The more people that see him, the more danger he's in."
Dean was silent after his scolding, ears burning bright red at the thought of Sam in danger because of his own negligence, but Sam's face was upturned in Bobby's direction, an eternal curiosity sparkling in those small hazel eyes. "What do the other hunters do here, Bobby?" he asked politely, paying no mind to the brooding hunter that loomed over him.
Bobby chose to follow Sam's example and ignore Dean. He'd never seen anyone handle Dean's moods as skillfully as Sam, no matter his size. "They come for help or lore, mostly. I've got the biggest library on most supernatural things this side of the country, after all. Others call my phones if their story needs backin' up. Stuff like that." He nodded towards the line of phones against the wall, each marked with the persona he took on when he answered them. Compared to the normal hunters he dealt with, Dean included, Sam's innocent curiosity was a breath of fresh air, untempered by his family's cynicism.
In fact, instead of Sam becoming cynical and reserved like Dean, Bobby had noticed the opposite was happening.
Dean was happier.
It wasn't obvious or easy to notice, but it was there all the same. Worry lines in Dean's face had vanished, taking years off his age. That familiar darkness no longer hovered over him, keeping him from enjoying what life he had. It was as though Sam had become a small ray of light, pushing out the darkness that had taken root in Dean all those years ago, planted when that witch had taken away his brother.
Dean had been given the most precious gift one could find in that four-inch-tall brother of his: A reason to live.
Ever since losing Sam, Dean had become focused on nothing but improving himself. John's obsession to find the thing that killed his wife had cut him off from a normal life and Dean had needlessly suffered in turn, dragged down the same path without a choice. Without ever knowing he had a choice.
The moment Dean let himself believe Sam lost had been the moment he'd let the same obsession infect him.
Bobby himself had let anger cloud his judgement that one fatal day when he'd decided to chase John off his property with a shotgun. He'd been disgusted by John's shameful disregard for Dean's undying loyalty, willing to do anything to help his family, which had been reduced to one John Winchester who, in Bobby's opinion, didn't deserve that loyalty.
Unfortunately, in chasing away the father, Bobby had inadvertently chased away the son.
The only other times since that day he'd heard from Dean had been an increasingly angry series of phone calls, demanding to know where John was, why he'd disappeared, why he'd left Dean behind... Bobby had wanted nothing more than to help the distraught boy, but John had cut all ties when he vanished, leaving no trail to follow. Those angry phone calls had eventually tapered off, then stopped completely, leaving an ominous silence behind.
Bobby had been thrilled to discover that the silence hadn't been because of Dean's death, an outcome he'd feared ever since the boy took up hunting, but was instead because Dean had cut himself off from the world after discovering his brother was alive. He hadn't wanted to risk Sam around any other humans, especially any hunters after hearing what Sam had told him hunters had done in the past to people like him. Dean would risk no harm to his small brother, even if it meant he himself had to change the way he lived. The fact that Bobby had been lumped into Dean's list of 'People To Stay Away From for Sam' had broken his heart at first, but he'd come to understand Dean's reasoning.
Bobby gave Sam a smile. "So, what can you tell me about this problem you boys got goin' on?"
Sam glanced up at Dean, but the older hunter remained expressionless. Deciding to go on, Sam took in a deep breath and started to explain.
Bobby found himself amazed at the story Sam told. The natural disasters he'd heard about, but the news reports in his town had left out the portion where each had occurred at the same time as the last. He'd have paid far more attention to the stories if he'd known about that. Sam told him about finding the house and splitting up with Dean. Bobby's brow furrowed at that thought, wondering how Dean had ever been convinced of that. Sam wasn't exactly equipped to be able to handle himself if any humans ever found him. Again.
"Then..." Sam's voice continued. "I climbed the kitchen counter. I had this feeling on the back of my neck that I was being watched from somewhere, but we would have known if there were any humans around, and I can tell if any humans are walking near me." He wrinkled his nose. "It's hard to miss when the ground shakes around you every time a person takes a step."
Both Bobby and Dean were, by now, hanging onto his every word. It was rare Sam talked about how things really were for him and neither hunter wanted to miss a single word.
Sam went on. "When I got to the top, I honestly thought there was a doll sitting in the center. Then she moved, and stood up." He stretched out his arms. "She had wings, like red bat wings, or dragon wings, and dark red hair. Her eyes... they reminded me of Nixie's a little." Gesturing towards the sprite, he explained. "If you look really close, Nixie doesn't have pupils. They're all a solid blue iris. This girl's were the same. Solid red, no iris. She told me I was meant to come with her and I almost did."
Dean jerked at this. "You what? " he demanded.
Sam shrugged, ignoring the suddenly angry tone. "It was like she hypnotized me or something. The only thing I could see was her eyes. It was like nothing else mattered, like she was the only thing in the world. I couldn't stop. Then... there was a gunshot upstairs, and it broke the trance. I snapped out of it like it had never happened. She got angry when I refused to go with her... like the worst anger I've ever seen. She set the air around her on fire, and it was all I could do to get away." He turned to Dean, swinging a leg off the edge of the plate. "Then you came in."
Dean scowled. "I almost didn't make it in time," he admitted. "I saw you jump off the counter and it was all I could do to cross the room and catch you. You had the one girl waiting for you, I found the rest of the swarm upstairs." This came out with a grimace. "Damn near burned my eyebrows off."
"Yeah, well, they might not have burned your eyebrows off, but they sure did a number on you boys regardless." Bobby stared them both down. Neither of the brothers could meet him in the eyes for more than a moment, which told him all he needed to know about Sam and Dean's injuries. "How 'bout I take a look at the books I got dealin' with sprites," he nodded at Nixie, "while you two get yer asses patched up."
Dean went to argue with Bobby, but paused when his eyes strayed to the burn mark on Sam's arm. His scowl deepened. "After we're done, we'll be working on the case," he grumbled at Bobby. "None of this 'taking it easy' crap."
Bobby smiled grimly. Some things would never change with Dean, but at least he'd put Sam's hurts in front of the case even if he refused to do the same with his own. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
"Can I give the rest of my hotdog to Rumsfeld?" Sam asked, standing up from the plate and brushing any remaining crumbs from his shirt.
" 'Course you can," Bobby assured him. "Just remember he can't have too many treats."
Sam stood at the edge with the rest of his piece in hand. "Rumsfeld!" he called out, peering over the side. Rumsfeld scrambled out from under Dean, sniffing at Sam the moment he saw the smaller brother. Both Bobby and Dean tensed at the dog, worried he'd have trouble telling the difference between friend and snack.
They needn't have worried. Sam laughed, then held a hand against Rumsfeld's nose, pushing him away. "No, you can't have it like that. Sit!"
Rumsfeld let himself be pushed, sitting on the floor and staring loyally at Sam. Sam chucked the hotdog as far in the air as he could, and Rumsfeld snapped it right up, immediately glancing around for more. He definitely had a new best friend in the dog.
This time around, Rumsfeld didn't grumble at Dean as the older hunter stood. "So, where do you keep your first aid kit?" he asked.
Bobby pointed at the stairs. "Right in the bathroom, under the sink. There's a smaller kit kept in each bedroom as well. I'll be in the library once you're finished."
He was about to say something to Dean about how he'd left Sam on the table, but he realized belatedly that the smaller hunter had already made it halfway up Dean's arm, climbing up from the hand that had been casually resting nearby. Bobby tried not to stare all over again, but couldn't help it. He'd never seen anything like the pair of brothers in all his years.
Once Sam reached his shoulder, Dean went up the stairs to patch them both up.
And Rumsfeld has entered the screen!
Next chapter arrives September 25th!