68. Witchcraft

Well, I think this is as good a time as any for a visit from my favorite witch herself, Celeste!

Celeste let a look of disgust cross her face as she stared down her opponent.

The others in the coven were pallid, weak, disgusting excuses for witches. Celeste stood tall, her own powers outstripping them by far.

“I will not share my secrets with others,” she declared loudly, her eyes bright with distaste for having to deal with such lowly servants.

The leader stood, slowly uncoiling from her stone chair. “You stand against us?” she ask in a throaty growl, her red-rimmed eyes narrowing.

“I do not care where you stand,” Celeste replied back, her voice as mild as it ever was. Blonde, tall, and busty, she cut an intimidating figure wherever she went, a boon to the glamor she wore to cover up her true form. If they could see her original body… well these women would not be so keen on learning her secrets. Not all paths were desired, no matter that immortality could be hers to give and share with them.

“You must stop you experiments,” the leader commanded. Black robes coiled around her, sometimes giving the impression of smoke.

Even their glamor was predictable.

“Perhaps you would like to be the next I experiment on,” Celeste said, still mild.

A collective gasp came from those ringing where she stood. “But I thought it only worked on children! ” a woman on the left exclaimed. Her child was one of the ones Celeste had taken for herself.

Celeste stared straight at her, refusing to allow these women anonymity. “You know nothing of me. And little of my powers.”

Bored with the conclave, she ripped her hand through the air. The leader of the coven was tossed against the wall, and Celeste advanced while the others withdrew.

“You will not interfere with me,” Celeste hissed. “Or I shall have your entrails for dinner. I have been given a task by he who rules Hell himself, and no one shall stand in my way.”

Then she was gone, and all that proved she’d been there was a brand, burned into the lead witch’s forehead and glowing with the brightness of the sun. The women wailed as they read the message she had left.

Her true name.


45. Dreaming

Three strokes. Flip. Four strokes. Flip.

Alone in her small dollhouse, Bree contented herself counting the time as she brushed her hair. The Mangas family was out for the day, at some park or another, and Briella Watch was left on her own to pass the time.

Only a passing thought was given to the people she knew were in the storage room, waiting to be sold. She couldn’t think too much about them, there was nothing she could do. She was sealed away, trapped in a house inside a room with all entrances to the walls sealed off.

This family knew the tricks, after all.

Three strokes. A quick flip of her hair, and a garishly pink doll hairbrush went through the strands of golden hair while Bree stared into the clouds outside the window. Long eyelashes closed, and a tear hid at the side of her eye.

People were trapped, and she was up here, with her head in the clouds. Every night, she was plagued by thoughts of what could have been. Her only release was in sleep, in dreams of her old home with her mother and her father. Mallory’s constant smile at her while she took her first steps, Walt’s stern pride as he taught her how to climb.

Every night, she saw their faces in her dreams and they pushed back the dark cloud that hung over her head. She had to hide it, though. Beth couldn’t know what she was thinking.

They couldn’t take away her dreams.

Four strokes. Flip.


A cute combination for a drabble!

95. Pretend

“Okay, now you pretend to be the big human, here to save everyone!”

Kara gave Sean a big grin, excited about the game he’d introduced her to. Playing pretend, something that humans did when they didn’t have any toys (not that she had toys, but most of her time was spent learning the rules about their life under the floorboards).

Sean flushed red. “Y-you mean like Dean, when he saved everyone?” he asked shyly, always nervous when he thought about the human that had rescued Kara’s daddy.

Kara nodded excitedly. “Yeah! Just like that! He beat up the bad guys and got everyone out, just like in the stories!”

She slapped her little hands against the floor, pushing herself up. Throwing her hands out as far as she could (barely two inches wide, but she tried), she declared. “He’s the biggest, safest human, and he helped us!”

“Kara?” A voice came from outside the room. Christian stuck his head in, his grey eyes finding his daughter and Sean instantly in the darkness he was adapted too. “You two should get to sleep, sweetie. It’s past your bedtime.”

“Aww!” Kara said in dissapointment. “But we were gonna pretend to be Dean, here to save everyone!”

Christian came in to tuck her into bed. “You can play tomorrow,” he smiled at her. “Sean’s staying with us for a few days. There’s plenty of time for games later.”

She let him slide her under the covers, bundling down into the fabric nest she loved so much. “You think Dean will come back and see us?” she asked tiredly.

Christian leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Of course he will,” he said. “We’re his family, remember?”

He tucked Sean in next, smiling at the formerly-human boy. Sean was still very shy around everyone, but he was adapting to his new life faster than expected. They’d decided to give him a few days away from the little home Walt and Bree were sharing with Krissy and her family, so he could spend time with Kara again. They’d bonded fast, the only two kids in the motel.

“Sleep tight, okay?” Christian said, and he got sleepy mumbles in return. He let the fabric fall back over the doorway, letting the curtain block the small children from the world. Where they could be safe for a while.

Innovations of the Burrow

The littles that live out in the fields behind Bobby’s home have many different innovations. Because there’s so many different littles that find their way there (mostly with Rumsfeld’s help when he finds them wandering), they have a larger skill set than in other areas.

  • The stream that runs by one of the back entrances is full of minnows, so the more adept men and women will spear them, or careful nets are created to net them with.
  • They keep a bed of coals lit at all times in their largest chamber. It provides a place to cook fish, bugs or small animals that they need to fend off along with a source of heat in the winter.
  • Grass is woven into baskets by the older littles, and they teach the younger children the same skill.
  • Berries are collected from the nearby area. From the berries they can create a variety of jams and wines, and vinegar from the wines that age.
  • They make their clothing out of a variety of fabrics and plant materials. They have never had a tanner like Walt come to the burrow, so that is one skill that is lacking. His boots, leather jackets, leather satchels and canteens that he makes (the canteens dreamed up in a conversation with @chewbaccaaah), are all more durable than the fabric and cloth shoes used by the burrow. To gather fabric, they need to range farther than normal, sometimes venturing to the other homes in the area (Bobby’s was avoided as of the events in Adventures at Bobby’s).

Arthur and Alyssa Harbor commissioned from Heartstores

Waking Dean

BA Canon: Chances point to yes

Timeline: Future Story

“C’mon Dean,” Sam gritted out, determined. “You need to wake up.” Giving up on the easy way, Sam kicked the cheek he was standing next to. A few more kicks to the cheek and one directed at the nose and he heard a rumbling from Dean as his brother finally started to wake up.

The next part happened too fast for Sam to react.

He’d always known Dean’s reflexes were sharp – after all, Dean had been able to catch Sam without even seeing him the first time they’d met back up not so long ago. A lifetime of hunting dangerous creatures does that to a person.

But he had no idea they were just as sharp asleep.

The second Dean’s eyes slotted open, he moved. The hand that came for Sam was lightning quick, to fast and too big for him to dodge out of the way in time. He had no choice but to curl up into a ball as he was helplessly scooped up off the bed by Dean’s thick fingers. He pulled his arms and legs in as close as he could to his body so they wouldn’t get snapped when the fingers closed tightly around him.

The huge silver ring his brother wore dug uncomfortably into his shoulder the way he was held. Sam tried his best to not squirm, afraid the movement might make Dean tighten the fist around him even more before he was fully awake and found out it was Sam he was holding. He was strong enough to crush Sam by accident if he wasn’t careful.

The whole world flipped around Sam as Dean moved, disorienting him and making his headache beat out a staccato tempo inside his skull. Sam groaned, trying to move enough to free his arm so he could rub his head and hopefully take away some of the pressure. No matter what he did, both his arms remained pinned to his side, held there by Dean’s solid grip. He could feel the hand moving, raising higher into the air as Sam’s stomach clenched with vertigo, unable to see where he was going. You would think he’d be used to this after spending the last few months with Dean, but no. Still nauseating, especially since he couldn’t see where he was being lifted to.

“Sammy?” His brother’s voice, groggy from sleep, filled the air around Sam. “Isat’chu?”

The tight grip around him loosened as Dean finally realized what he had clenched in his fist. Relieved, Sam relaxed from his huddled ball of limbs as the slightly sweaty palm under him tilted, rolling him onto his back so he was facing Dean’s worried face, bare inches away.

“Sam? What the hell are you doing? Are you alright?” A huge finger approached from the side, gently propping Sam up.

Sam rubbed his head, trying to focus his thoughts back from being discombobulated and scrambled. He wrapped an arm around the finger, using it to keep his balance while his head was still spinning.

Noticing this, Dean leaned even closer. “Shit Sam, did I hurt you?”

Sam waved Dean away, unable to meet the magnified worry in the green eyes he was suspended in front of. “I’m fine, just a little shaken.” He rubbed his head again. “Wasn’t really expecting to go for a ride just trying to wake you up.”

Sam’s Soda

BA Canon: Yes

Timeline: After The Golden Touch

Sam groaned, doubling over. His bottlecap shifted far enough on the pillow to tip, spilling the Coke all over the plush white surface. It spread out a dark stain.

Dean poked his head out of the bathroom, concern on his face at the quiet moaning. “Sam, is everything…”

He spotted the doubled-over form on the pillow. “Sam!” Dean was over at the bed in an instant.

Sam felt himself fall onto his back, thrown off balance from the sight of Dean growing so large, so fast. He blinked up at his older brother looming overhead for a few seconds before curling up again in pain.

It was so all-encompassing he didn’t even pay any mind to the two hands that cupped carefully around him, slowly edging under his body. Sam was lifted up into the air, finding himself level with concerned green eyes.

A finger brushed against his arms, trying to coax him out of his crumpled position. “Sam, did you drink the soda?”

“Uhhh… maybe. W…why?”

Dean’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and he moved his hand so Sam could lay flat. “I think maybe next time we should wait for it to go flat.”

Sam buried his face in the thick, soft skin underneath. He felt a burp come up, lessening the pressure in his middle.

“I think maybe you’re right.”

I’m doing good, but I’m worried about Dean. He’s taking this case pretty hard, especially the fact that I’m the only one that can take Ilyana on. I know he just wants to protect me, but he needs to realize that sometimes I don’t need protecting. I need my big brother’s support.

I don’t want to do this alone.

Oh, Dean knows the first thing that’ll happen is Walt will lecture them until their ears fall off. Another part that would hold Dean back is Sean is very nervous and shy around him. A big human lecturing the teeny kid might make him scared, and that’s the last thing that Dean would ever want to do. Plus, Dean’s become good at not moving at night out of habit for when Sam’s hanging out in a pocket, so they weren’t in any danger.

The Climbing Bet

BA Canon: Yes

Timeline: After The Golden Touch

Dean snorted. “No way.”

Sam glared up at him. “Seriously? You doubt me? After I saved your sorry ass from being a statue.” He shook his head mournfully with a smirk hiding in the corner of his lips.

Dean cocked an eyebrow at the bookshelf. “Sure, but you climbed a tree back there. I’m betting there’s a few more handholds on a tree than a shelf. The thing’s pretty much a cliff.”

Sam jabbed his hook at Dean. “If I can climb it, I get control over the television for a week.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Deal.” He stuck a hand out.

Sam grinned confidently as he let Dean cautiously shake his much smaller arm between two fingers. “You’ll be eating your words,” he shot back at his big brother as the older hunter stood and stepped back.

“Better put your money where your mouth is, pint-size,” Dean said as he leaned against the wall. Standing, he was just as tall as the shelves he’d challenged Sam to climb. “Or I’ll be in charge of the TV for the week.”

Sam uncoiled his fishing line, the clear rope ready in his hands. He ignored the looming shadow of the older Winchester, knowing Dean wouldn’t interfere unless Sam slipped. For once, he actually had a safety net as he climbed. Normally, he was on his own when he tried foolhardy stunts like this. Walt would always lecture him, but he’d always do it again. He was one of the best climbers around, after all.

The first shelf was easy. An easy toss got the hook snagged on a vase. Sam tugged on the line, judging how solid the catch was. Only when he was certain that it wouldn’t shake free did he start climbing up.

The line he used was smooth, hard to climb directly up most days. After years of practice, his hands were becoming as callused as Dean’s, but for completely different reasons. The calluses gave him a better grip on his line, letting him haul his body up with nothing more than his hands.

He clambered up the first shelf, eyeing up his surroundings. Beyond the vase and a discarded Bible, he could see Dean’s knees, the thick legs crossed while he leaned against the wall. Sam couldn’t help a smile at the thought of using Dean to climb the rest of the way up, but pushed that thought away. Besides being an easy out, Dean would probably declare that ‘cheating.’

Sam flicked his line, releasing the hook from its snug fit. He held it at the ready, staring up at the shelf above. This time, the game would be interesting. The shelves were all even, so there was no way for him to reach the next one up without leaning out into the open air.

A careful examination of his surroundings revealed a bracket above, used to set the shelves into the wall. There were holes interspaced on the brackets, and one of them might be just far enough out for him to be able to use it to climb up. With a rush of confidence, Sam tossed his hook at the bracket.

And missed.

He growled as he pulled the line back. Dean leaned down with a smirk. “Need a hand?” he goaded Sam.

Sam ignored him, trying the shot again. At least in this case, there was no hurry, and no danger from the human nearby. No danger past the teasing and jokes, at least.

The second toss did it. He tugged on the line, then began climbing again. This time, his line didn’t make it all the way to the shelf, but he was able to grip the metal bracket, scaling up the last few inches. He unhooked his fishhook on the way, attaching it to the pocket Walt had made for a time just like this.

The grin wouldn’t leave his face after that level. The end of a blanket draped down from the shelf above, so he didn’t even need to get his hook back out to get to the third shelf, putting him at chest height for Dean and one shelf away from his goal. He caught his hook on the bracket on his first toss. Barely two minutes later, and he hauled himself up to the top, swaggering over to Dean’s surprised face with a knowing grin.

“So,” Sam smirked. “Who’s up for some Star Wars this week?”

Submissions Open!