A/N:

Thank you so much to Kajensen07 for the review!

Dean surveyed the campground, the sight before him confirming his fears.

Finding the site of the assault had been simple enough. The police tape didn't deter him when he spotted it ahead of him as he tromped through the tame wilderness and around scattered campsites. POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS was a welcome sight, letting him know he was on the right track.

The campsite itself was still full of the teenagers' supplies. After the two victims were taken out of the forest by an ambulance, the supplies became a part of the scene of the crime. A chunk of firewood was discarded to the side, and Dean could only assume that it was what Jacob had been struck with. He was glad the kid had survived the attack. Jacob and Chase were both so young, with long lives ahead of them.

Most demons didn't leave survivors.

Leaves crinkled under Dean's boots as he leaned in closer, examining the ground with sharp green eyes. Sulfur was caked on the blades of grass and the bark of a tree, a rancid smell lifting from it. There was a demon loose in the forest and there was no way of knowing what it would do next.

Dean straightened with a sigh and dug out his phone. He snapped a few shots of the sulfur, sending them straight to Bobby, who would analyze them and send Dean anything he might dig up.

"Like I need a babysitter," Dean grumbled as his thumb pressed SEND with more force than necessary. He'd flatly refused Bobby's offer to help, resenting the insinuation that he wouldn't last a day out in the wilderness on his own.

I can handle myself out here, thanks.

He was still fuming at the implications Bobby had planted in his head. Like he was taking more risks than necessary, putting himself in more danger than needed.

Everyone needs backup, Dean.

"Sorry, my backup ain't answering his phone."

After so long hunting on his own, Dean was never surprised to find himself talking out loud just to hear a voice that existed outside his head.

Dean selected a leaf with sulfur caked to it, bagging it up and sticking it in his jacket, a piece of evidence that the police would never think of saving. He'd stripped out of the FBI getup as fast as he could, though the badge remained in his pocket just in case he ran into an officer out in the woods. The campground was closed pending further investigation, and Dean had no intention of spending any time in a cell when people might be at risk. They couldn't afford to take a demon at large in the forest lightly, and the police were never prepared for something like this.

Careful examination of the surrounding woods revealed snapped branches and clear signs of a trail leading deeper, into the depths of the forest. Dean slung his duffel over his shoulders and followed the trail, determined to put a stop to the demon before it attacked anyone else.

Birds sang and a light breeze made the vibrant green leaves of the forest rustle.

Rischa knew she wasn't supposed to be this far out of the village without someone there with her, but Sam and Bowman had already left for their daily patrols, and the forest had all but called her name. With her mama occupied with the washing, it was easy to slip beyond the stream on her dainty wings without anyone taking any notice.

She didn't regret a thing. Way out in the woods, probably as far as Jacob's clearing, she'd found a happy bed of wildflowers that faced the sky in joyous color. She wove among them and hummed a song of her own while the breeze rustled overhead.

Occasionally, Rischa would brush her hand along a stem and concentrate on the flower petals above her. The simple thought of a Prayer sent magic borrowed from the Lady of Life into the plants around her, and the flowers lit with a soft glow for seconds at a time before fading.

She almost hoped Sam and Bowman would find her out here while they patrolled. She'd love to see them and maybe fly with them for a while before they inevitably sent her home with a scolding.

It was a walk of a few hours, but Dean refused to admit he might be lost. The trail had vanished into thin air an hour in, and he'd continued on the same path. He had supplies in his bag, at least enough granola for a day or two, and Bobby would never let him hear the end of it if he had to call in a rescue.

Shoulda learned my lesson after the wendigo.

There was a gate with a strict KEEP OUT sign hanging on it. The gate swung wide open, a chain hanging from one side. Dean eyed it up. It was the first suspicious thing he'd found in hours, and he decided to check it out. This fence was his best lead since losing Bobby's trail. There was no way of knowing if the demon had really gone through it or not, but he could always backtrack later on that afternoon.

If he could find it again.

"Shut up," Dean growled to himself, berating his own thoughts. "I can handle myself out here, thanks."

A walk of twenty minutes later, and he heard something out of place.

Is that… singing?

Dean quieted his steps in a heartbeat and stalked through the foliage in search of the source of the sound. He spotted flowers ahead…

Glowing flowers.

Suspicions aroused, Dean took a few more careful steps through the tall grass as the stalks waved in the breeze. He stared down at the flowers in confusion. Demons wouldn't bother with something like making flowers glow. They spent their energy following twisted depredations. The most mellow of demons made deals for souls. A witch might have the magic for it, but in the middle of the forest, with no one else around for miles…

It was during those confused ramblings that Dean realized something was moving in the wildflowers. Letting the duffel slip down, his instincts kicked in, and he lunged forward. The song choked and stopped out of the source's sheer surprise. Two hands closed around the strange shape, and he straightened, staring down at his hand. A brief glimpse of what he'd caught sent his mind reeling.

"Whoa."

Rischa's eyes were wide in the dark.

She'd only noticed a shadow descending on her seconds before something large and fast closed around her, trapping her body and her surprised, fluttering wings in a small space. The shape of the light that leaked in showed the silhouettes of fingers clamped tightly around her.

"Oh," she breathed, her heart beating faster. The human's feelings crashed around her in a startling clarity, and she was immediately certain that it wasn't Jacob. None of his calm, steady, reassuring emotions were present in her captor. She'd come to know the tranquil human well enough, and this wasn't him, it couldn't be him.

A giant she didn't know had snatched her up, and no one even knew she was out there.

Intensity, betrayal, sadness, determination, and an almost painful longing clashed with her own fear, and Rischa breathed faster. She couldn't read whether her captor's intentions were good or bad. All she knew was what Jacob and Sam had warned her.

Not all humans were dangerous, but some were very very bad.

"Oh, no," she spoke again, her wings fluttering desperately. She pushed weakly at the fingers walled around her, wishing for escape. She felt so small, and some tears leaked from her golden eyes, no matter that she tried to will them away. "Oh no."

Outside of the cramped confines of his hands, Dean stared down at them in surprise. All that kept him from thinking he'd imagined it all was the slightest flutter against his fingers, like something was trying to get out. It was a ghost sensation, almost hard to feel past the calluses earned from long years of hunting and car repair. A tiny tickle he could almost ignore if he didn't remember what he'd seen as his hands closed.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins, keeping him on edge as he lifted his hand closer to his face. If the whatever-it-was lashed out, he was ready to do what he had to.

But… it looked like it was just a little girl.

A flash of green wings and a startled face was all he'd been able to make out before snatching her up, and as he started to crack his fingers to let the light in, he believed he'd imagined it. There would be nothing inside, or some kind of little bug, not…

Between slight cracks in his fingers, Dean caught sight of a fearful expression on a little face, and he hurriedly closed them up again.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered to himself. "That can't… Son of a bitch." His mind tried to match up what he'd seen with something he was familiar with and got nowhere.

The harsh sound of the gruff voice muttering out there made Rischa flinch. She could feel more confusion around him as he processed what he'd managed to catch. Rischa knew that meant he had no idea what sprites were, but that didn't necessarily mean he wasn't a danger to her.

She stopped her fluttering wings and hugged her knees close to her rapidly heaving chest. Her pulse pounded and her breathing wouldn't slow down. She was too afraid.

Rischa sniffled and more tears leaked out, but she tried to consider her options. Sam always encouraged her to think things through before anything else. So far, she couldn't find a solid hold on the man's intentions, and his confusion only added difficulty to the task. She held onto the fact that she hadn't felt any traces of an intent to harm her, yet. Confusion, curiosity, suspicion... She brushed her tears away with the heel of one hand and managed to speak up a little louder, hoping her voice would carry beyond the huge hands surrounding her.

"Please, sir, d-don't hurt me."

The light, lilting stutter made Dean even more aware of what he had trapped in his hand. Bobby had never mentioned anything like this in the forest, not even rumors. Which meant he might be the first person to stumble on the delicate person.

"Wait," Dean said, trying to switch to a reassuring tone of voice. The fear in that little voice hurt to hear. Like he was terrifying a kid, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. "I'm not… I'm not here to hurt anyone."

Hesitantly, he cracked his fingers again, letting in some light for the little girl. His heart sank when he saw the way her cheeks glistened. "Hey, you're okay," he told her, softening his voice. "I just need to figure out what's going on around here. And what you are. No one's getting hurt."

Rischa peered out at him with widened eyes. She found nothing but earnest truth in his reassurances. Even if his hands were still mostly closed around her and preventing her from fluttering away, Rischa chose to believe the human.

She sniffled once more and took a terse breath to regain her composure. This time, when she rubbed her eyes, she scrubbed at her cheeks as well and did her best to look put together. "O-okay," she replied quietly when she looked back up at his intense but concerned green eyes. There was something so familiar about the pattern of his deeper emotions, but Rischa knew better than to ask a stranger about such things. It was rude.

"Um. I'm Rischa... and if you're confused about the flowers, I was just playing. That was me making them glow like that."

"Yeah, about that…" Dean shifted, staring down at the ground around him. Now that he knew the source, he could see a clear path in the glowing flowers already beginning to fade now that he'd snatched up the strange young girl. It would let anyone know where she was, and there was an… innocence in an action like that. As though she didn't think she was in any danger out in the forest alone.

That was enough to turn his attention back to her. "What are you?" he asked wonderingly, momentarily deterred from the case he was on. With any luck, he could ascertain if she was a threat to anyone, and maybe find out if she'd seen or sensed the demon in the forest. "And what kind of magic makes flowers glow?"

Rischa shifted where she sat, letting her wings relax a little. They rested on the surface of the hands around her, tentatively at first, before she relaxed more. He didn't seem to mind, and his fascination only grew. "I'm a wood sprite," she answered plainly, seeing no harm in giving the information away. She was getting a better hang on reading what kind of person the man was, and he didn't seem the type that would seek out the others to do them harm.

"It's just magic from the Earth Spirit. She lets me borrow it... The lights are supposed to be so I can see at night, but I think it makes the flowers pretty and they don't seem to mind."

Dean filed that away in his mind, unavoidably fascinated at the sight of someone settling down to sit on his hand. With her little wings resting, he relaxed his hands around her, letting in more light and air.

"Wood sprite," he repeated after her. It didn't tell him much, but it let him know what he was dealing with. There was something about her that made him want to trust her words. Maybe it was the innocence, or the way she was answering him even trapped in his grip without any resistance. "And a spirit?" There was more confusion, but this wasn't the time for it.

"You shouldn't be out in the forest on your own," Dean chided her. "It's not safe. There's a demon prowling around, and if he found you, he wouldn't hesitate." He paused, but there was nothing for it. She could be a witness just like anyone else. "Have you seen anyone out of place here? Aside from me?"

Rischa's brow furrowed with confusion and worry. She recognized the tone in his voice and the protective aura about him, because she felt it from both Sam and Bowman often. It helped her worry a little less despite how quickly he'd snatched her up.

"I didn't ... no," she answered after a moment. "I don't know what a demon is." She wondered for a moment if Jacob knew what that was. She had never heard Sam mention it during all his long years in the village, either, so he probably didn't know.

"Nothing good, is what it is," Dean muttered, almost more to himself than her. After years hunting on his own, he wasn't used to having others around when he talked. "You won't have to worry about it. That's what I'm here to take care of."

The sight of how little and vulnerable she was in his hands ratcheted up his worry. If this Bobby Loran kid stumbled on any other little sprites, there wouldn't be any way for people that small to stop him and that was without the extra mojo a demon gave him. Images of tiny children being tormented by the demon filled Dean's mind, and put an edge on his determination.

"Look," he said to her, holding his hand closer to his eyes so he could see her face clearer. He squinted slightly. "I'm going to find a safe place for you, alright? I don't want you or anyone else getting into any trouble while I stop this guy. My name's Dean, and I won't let anything happen to you."

Rischa wasn't sure what to react to first. She didn't know what Dean might mean by a 'safe place' for her, and she wanted to ask. She'd prefer to simply go home and stay in her house if there was trouble.

But his name quickly overtook her thoughts and clamoured for attention as she remembered something.

Dean is -!

Sam, a human like Jacob or Dean, but much smaller, had grown up in the village. He was like an older brother to Rischa and had always been there for her, just like Bowman. He was far away from his family, and on occasion he had talked about them with a fondness and a distant longing. One that, Rischa realized, was present in Dean, too.

Everything began to make sense to her as the pieces fell together, and the thought of Sam's melancholy face when he began to think about his lost brother only motivated her more to make things right. Dean was here.

"Dean! You're-"

"Hey!" A distant voice called out and interrupted her. Rischa twisted around in Dean's cupped hands to try to find the source. It sounded like Jacob, and she heard quick footsteps crashing towards them through the underbrush.

The sound of someone coming towards them instantly caught Dean's attention, tearing it away from the little girl in his protective grasp. Turning in place, his hands shut once more, sealing Rischa off from the world.

A/N

Dean remains the least smoothest hunter when it comes to the forest and camping, but hey. At least he's a good tracker!

Next: November 11th, 2018 at 9pm est

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