June 30th excerpt:

“R-right…” Stan managed after only a moment’s hesitation. Switching gears, he lifted up the bundle of fabrics to show Dean.

“I, ah, also brought you these. It’s kind of the closest thing I could find to bedding. Here.” Stan tentatively approached and set down the small pile that ceased to look small next to Dean. “Why don’t you see what you like in there, start putting something together while I take care of this.” He awkwardly indicated the box by lifting it slightly in his grasp.

December 31st excerpt:

The humans weren’t kept waiting long. At the back of the shelf, beyond where any of the books would reach unless they were shoved back all the way, Dean’s little shadow slipped from the corner. The crack he came from was expertly concealed to be hidden from view if one of the books in front was removed.

With the books gone, Dean had never felt so exposed leaving his own front door.

The tension in the air was so thick in the main room of the flat that even Dean picked up on it. He stepped up to the edge of the fabric John had gathered, his eyebrows going up as he saw it was all the same color. It didn’t take him long to piece together the fact that John had shredded a shirt for them to use, brushing a hand over a freshly-frayed edge.

February 15th excerpt:

When the hand opened up around Dean, he found himself falling straight down.

He let out a cry of alarm, memories of the four foot drop he’d been dangled over slamming into him all over again. His arms thrown out to either side, he felt his fingers brush against fabric as he fell.

Fabric…?