Dean gestured towards the bar, a wistful smile on his face as he realized just what was bothering the little guy. This was the first Winchester who didn’t have his brother with him. “Just a place to chill for a bit before you go find your own Dean. Plenty of booze to go around.”
Bowman stood near Sam, if only to keep close to the only familiar part about the room. He stared up at this ‘Dean’ that had called him by name, but just like his own Sam he’d noticed the figure on his shoulder.
That was a weird sight. He’d grown up knowing Sam to wear the greens of the forest, in the proud uniform of the knights. The other Sam didn’t even appear to have a sword on him.
He crossed his arms. Even as he addressed Dean, their Jacob hesitantly wandered over to join them. “What is ‘booze?’ ”
Jacob glanced at Dean with wide eyes before chiming in his answer. “It’s a human drink, Bowman. Means it has alcohol in it.”
“Dude, you just missed the mini-us,” another deep voice joined in. The oldest of any Jacob there wandered over to greet the newcomers. “There was a Jacob that got cursed, apparently. They left before you guys showed up, but you’ll probably get to meet them next time.”
Bowman leaned away from the even-more-giant giant and then glanced to his Sam. “One of him is sprite-sized? ”
Jacob waved a hand at the two very green little guys on the table and grinned. “Stands out almost as much as you do, buddy,” he greeted. “Dude, did you teach your Sam to fly?”
Sam grinned encouragingly. “Bowman thinks he taught me to fly,” he said as he caressed one of the wings of his glider. He could see the attention it was getting, and from looking around the Lounge at all the other Sams, could understand why.
He was the only one, aside from Bowman, wearing the colors of Wellwood.
“I ended up in the Wellwood when I got cursed,” Sam explained as Dean sat down, a fascinated look in his eyes for the leaf glider. The other Sam started to climb down so he could join them. “Figured if I can’t fly like they can, I’d just make my own wings.”
To demonstrate, Bowman stretched out one of his own wings next to the glider. The wingspan was nearly the same, and there was definitely a resemblance between the two. After years of poking at Bowman’s wings, Sam had been able to make his own, and all teasing aside, Bowman was proud.
“We look after Wellwood as a team,” he boasted, shooting both the Jacobs a grin. The younger one shrugged sheepishly and Bowman snickered. “Even gave that giant right there a reason to think twice.”
Jacob nodded even as he joined the others in sitting at the table. He held up his hand to show off the bandaging over the back of it, hiding a long gash in it. “Sam jumped up onto my hand when, uh. When I tried to grab him.”
Dean snorted, and his Sam sent him a scolding look. “Yeah, uh, so far we’ve seen all the Jacobs making… quite an impression,” he said with a smirk. “We’ve got big and tall over here,” he nodded at the oldest Jacob, and then at the next table over where a matching set of cursed Sam and Dean played a game of pool, “who managed to get sliced up twice for grabbing those Winchesters. Shorty by the bar definitely regretted grabbing Sam…” That Jacob still had a black eye to match his sliced hand. “The only one who made it out in one piece is half-pint, who’ll be back later. So far as I can tell.”
“Dude, don’t miss out on saying high to him when he gets back,” the older Jacob said, lightly punching the newest Jacob on the shoulder. “Seeing double is already a trip, right? Imagine seeing yourself pocket-sized.”
“Pocket-sized?” Bowman interjected with a wary glare.
The taller Jacob put his hands up in surrender. “I’m sure someone else said it before me,” he insisted. When Bowman only gave him a flat look in return, he shrugged in defeat. “Either way. You guys have fun chillin’ in the Lounge, it’s a great place. They’ll even make whatever food you want.” He gave a wave to his younger self, who returned it in a daze, and then wandered over to see what his own Winchesters were up to.