May 24th excerpt:

Dean ignored the little squirms in his hand, much like he’d do if he was checking Sam for any broken bones just after a fall. “See?” he said softly to the kid as he worked his way over each rib and brushed against the skinny bare arms. “Nothin’ to it.” He searched those tiny eyes for any signs of pain and found none.

Sam slapped on some grape jelly to his sandwich and but both slices of bread together, eagerly biting down. “Isf hee okayff?” he asked, mouth full.

September 12th excerpt:

Jacob trudged towards one of the worn, rusty gates in the metallic wall, glad the fence existed. It kept the sprites just a little safer from humans, tucked away so far that they hardly noticed the world outside the forest.

He wanted to do what he could to keep that peaceful simplicity intact.

“It isn’t much farther,” he muttered, leading the way through the gate for Sam and Dean. The words were as much for himself as for the brothers; the pressure in the air from Dean’s looks was all but tangible. He half expected to find holes burned right into his jacket when the trip was all over. He hadn’t gotten off to a good start with the guy.

November 4th excerpt:

Shocked didn’t adequately describe how Dean felt about Sherlock’s offer.

Stunned, aghast, flustered… None of them came close. Maybe appalled, at himself, for actually finding that he was considering it.

Sam would kill me!

And yet, his mind entertained the possibilities.

May 31st excerpt:

Realizing what Sam intended to do, Dean reacted instantly. He grabbed Sam’s shoulder, hauling him back before he could dart back into the open to try and save their friend.

Dean slammed Sam against the side of the cavernous walls they were hiding in and covered up his mouth with a hand.

“Not a word,” Dean hissed, his voice as low as it could go. “We go out there, we’re as good as captured. We can’t help him.”

February 18th excerpt:

Dean scooped up the wires and pins into his arms and started to pack them away into his duffel. “No, I think you’re good. This is more than I asked for. I might have to start hiding the pins from Sam soon, he might throw them at me if he has to sit around much longer.”

Jacob snickered at the image of Sam tossing around pins the size of small daggers to him. They would be like slightly bulky throwing knives. “Maybe,” Jacob agreed, raising an eyebrow appraisingly at the pins as Dean stashed them away.