August 16th excerpt:
“Fuck! Let me out! ” Logan bellowed, seething with the knowledge that a lot of his volume was lost to the prison encased around him. He writhed as much as he could in the extremely tight space, which didn’t say much. His arms were pinned at awkward angles to his chest and his legs could hardly move at all. Dean’s ring dug into his side mercilessly every time he shifted.
August 15th excerpt:
Logan pushed himself up to his hands and knees gingerly, ignoring Sam for the time being. His focus was on the hand underneath him, with leathery skin thicker than should be possible. Logan fit easily on the palm of Dean’s hand and there would be room for more of him, easily.
He was small. He was small.
And he was trapped on a giant hand.
Logan finally turned his shocked gaze to the face like a billboard. Dean’s intensity, focused on him so keenly, dropped ice into the reduced human’s stomach. He scowled, though there was a hint of desperation in the expression, and tried to push himself to a stand. It didn’t work, and he instead pitched to the side. He could feel Dean’s pulse thumping along under the callused skin.
August 14th excerpt:
Dean’s grin grew as a thought came to him. “Need a hand with that, Sammy?”
Sam almost seemed to consider as he kept the arm twisted back. Logan’s demands to be set free were completely ignored by the deceptively small and vulnerable-seeming hunter, who, on the same scale, was more powerful. “If you insist. I mean, he might be able to free himself. Eventually. If he doesn’t tire himself out first.”
Dean stretched out a hand through the grasses that loomed overhead, flattening it against the ground. There was a dangerous glint in his eye and two fingers twitched impatiently, beckoning Sam forward. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
August 13th excerpt:
Finally acknowledging Sam’s presence again, he asked “Where the hell am I? What is going on?”
Sam schooled his face to stay expressionless. “You’re right back at the start,” he pointed out unhelpfully, knowing full well why Logan was asking. He didn’t deign to clear things up. This one was for him to figure out on his own. Nothing the hunter had done had endeared himself to any of them, Sam and Bowman least of all. His knife, tossed away like a piece of scrap metal.
No, none of them would make things easy after all that.
Sam kicked a pebble that was stuck in the soil. “I think you’ll figure things out for yourself, soon enough,” he stated gamely.
August 12th excerpt:
Logan sat up, pushing on the dry ground with sore hands. A large tree branch completely void of leaves lay nearby. The grass was thicker around him than it was in his immediate vicinity. He couldn’t even see past ten feet or so into the dark green shadows in one direction.
He looked in another direction and stumbled to his feet almost immediately. “You?!” he blurted, squinting at the man sitting crosslegged nearby, calmly paying no mind to the strange scenery around them both. Something nagged the back of Logan’s mind and told him to worry a lot, but his surprise pushed that voice back.
It looked like he was staring at a full-sized version of the tiny person-thing he’d recently been able to shove in a pocket.
“Yeah, me,” Sam responded.
August 11th excerpt:
The prisoner finally looked to Dean, the only one who he had a mite of respect for, if only because of his fighting skill. He still regarded the other hunter like he was garbage in the gutter. “I see the little vermin have you both good and trained,” he spat.
Dean coolly arched an eyebrow at Logan. “Trained?” He glanced down at Sam, sitting calmly on a shoulder, then back at Logan. “He can’t be talking about me, can he?”
Sam wrinkled his nose. “He wouldn’t say that if he ever saw the socks you leave in the sink,” he complained loudly, not showing any of the pain that he still felt in his arm. “I mean, really. Who leaves socks in the sink, of all places?”
August 10th excerpt:
With that settled, Dean knelt down next to Jacob. “Alright pint-size, c’mon,” he said, gesturing. “We’ve got to fix up the Sasquatch before he gets himself into any more trouble.”
Sam stepped onto his outstretched hand, resigned to being checked over for injuries before anything else, and indeed, the first thing that happened was he was lifted up in front of the intense green eyes.
August 9th excerpt:
The whirlwind of green came to an abrupt halt as soon as Logan hit the ground. Knights hovered in the air where they’d stopped, watching with some alarm as Dean took the advantage and held it. Many had already moved to the fringe of the formation after running out of darts, and some were backing away from the sight.
Dean was vicious. Anyone would have a healthy respect for that look on his face.
Of course, respect or not, Bowman could see that Logan was knocked out, or close enough to it. But Dean kept right on hitting him, pent up rage fueling every powerful strike. A single blow like that would shatter a sprite and Logan had taken far more than just one.
August 8th excerpt:
Within seconds Bowman vanished into the storm of sprites sweeping around the colossal figures of Logan and Dean, some occasionally leaving scratches on the former with their swords as they supported the latter.
August 7th excerpt:
Dean raised up his arm, holding himself at the ready. “Scar, move,” he snapped out a command, used to being in charge. “That’s my brother out there, and he needs my help!” All he could see in his mind’s eye was Sam, covered in blood. Sam, crushed in a fist.
Dean, too far away to help.
Scar’s dark green eyes flickered to the hand that lifted up a sharp knife ready to slice into its enemy. Whatever intimidation he might have felt didn’t make it to his face. He flew a little closer, resolutely staying in Dean’s way. Even knowing Dean could swipe him out of the air at any given second, Scar held his stance.
“Your brother is alive, and Bowman is alive,” Scar hissed back.
He hated having his back turned on the enemy, but right now his biggest asset was also his biggest problem. “If you want to keep them that way then you will listen to me, human.”
Brothers Apart 