Tag: fs

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October 25th excerpt:

Jacob didn’t notice right away that Sam had nodded off, gone to chase dreams in the pages of the book. After being scolded once for glancing over too much, he made a point to leave Sam be. He only thought to look over when he found a site that might be of interest, but that required a paid subscription to access. He was ready to ask Sam’s opinion on it when he stopped.

For a moment, he thought Sam wasn’t there. Then, tentatively, wary of more scolding, Jacob reached over to lift up the page that had fallen over a small shape.

A bemused smile ghosted across his face at what he found. Curled up in the middle of a book several times his weight, was Sam. His tiny face rested against the curve of the pages like it was a huge cushion. He looked exhausted.

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October 21st excerpt:

Jacob didn’t make a lot of conversation while he was eating, not when the only other people around were so little. The sprites didn’t like to think of it, so he was well conditioned. In the end, he was back on the laptop after retrieving one of the old books for Sam. More than once, Jacob’s focus drifted off the latest web page to peek at the way Sam had to go to so much effort just to turn a page.

Each time, Sam would stiffen, the microscopic hairs on the back of his neck raising at the feeling. At first, he tried to hide the reaction, staying hunched over the book until he had to shuffle to the next page, sometimes turning it while remaining on the book, occasionally stepping off to push it over.

This time when Jacob looked, Sam was already looking back, sensing the glance coming and sending an annoyed, bitchy glare. “Something on my face?” Sam asked grumpily, the long hours of research showing in the lines etched around his eyes.

Jacob, all of six feet and five inches, flinched as that glare leveled on him.

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October 20th excerpt:

Glancing over his shoulder at the laptop, Sam sighed. “I’m afraid I won’t be much good on the laptop right now. I’ve gotta get washed up.” He dug out his hook. He could feel the dirt still in his hair after the earlier attack. As Dean would say, they were no good to anyone exhausted and strung out. “Did you have any other questions before I go?”

Dude, I got a million questions.

“Nah,” Jacob replied, offering one more apologetic smile. “You do whatcha need.” It didn’t do any good wondering if the awkwardness would ever wear off. Sam was used to Dean, and Jacob simply wasn’t him. They’d just have to play it by ear.

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October 19th excerpt:

Jacob was fascinated, by Sam’s words and by the fact that he was talking to someone who could use a laptop as a bench. That never got old, the size disparity between him and the extra-small folk he’d met. A lot of people came up to his chest and complained about his size. They had no idea what he looked like to someone like Sam.

Yet there he was, not hiding away. Jacob was grateful for trust, however tenuous.

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October 18th excerpt:

Jacob reached out to close the phone with a click of plastic against plastic. He pondered the conversation, finding even more questions in it that he could ask. Who’s Walt came to mind, but he knew better. Sam had hardly talked about any of the other people in his life; Jacob wasn’t going to ask him about someone unless Sam started that conversation.

It was weird. Sam was the same size as Bowman, but the similarities stopped there. With Bowman, it was hard to get a word in sometimes.

With Sam, awkward silences could pop up out of nowhere. He was an enigmatic little guy.

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October 17th excerpt:

There was a pause on the other end as Bobby parsed what he’d just learned. Sam was calling, but not from Dean’s phone, odd enough on its own. “Sam? That you? I thought Dean got you your own phone, why you using some random number to call me? ”

Sam’s ears turned red. The phone Dean had brought him home had completely slipped his mind. Usually it got tucked just inside the row of books in the nightstand, and so far the only time they’d used it was Dean’s prank when he’d set it on vibrate and sent Sam’s entire bed shaking like an earthquake in the middle of the night. Sam hadn’t been able to sleep for hours after that. “Oh, I, uh… forgot about it?” he burst out, wishing his mind wasn’t so scattered.

“Well, I’ll have you know I’ve been looking into Celeste for you and Dean since you left, and I found a few interesting leads…”

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October 15th excerpt:

Going back to the beginning of the book once more, Sam propped it against his chest as he walked closer to Jacob. He read it out loud, watching Jacob’s fingers punch in the numbers as he spoke. “You’ll want me on the line,” Sam warned before Jacob hit SEND. “Bobby takes as kindly as Dean to strangers calling him.”

Jacob smirked and let that be his show of understanding. He remembered his first phone call to the brothers, laced with distrust for him even having their number until he revealed he was Bowman’s friend.

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October 14th excerpt:

Sam groped blindly for his journal, dragging it close as he put the finishing touches on the big symbol. He flipped the pages back to the beginning of the book, on the first page.

One of the first things he’d scripted in, below Sam Winchester. If lost, return to Dean Winchester was the phone numbers of the people he was close to. Dean’s. His dad’s. And Bobby’s.

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October 13th excerpt:

Sam turned in place, crossing his arms and arching an eyebrow to see Jacob just standing there with the salt. “Are you just gonna stand there and smell the daisies?” Sam asked testily. He mimed pouring salt in front of the door, shaking an invisible container in a line to demonstrate what he meant. “Salt in front of the door and windows, and do a line across the vent for good measure. We need to keep out what we can, considering how this case started.” 

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October 12th excerpt:

Once Sam was down on the surface of the table, Jacob opened the bag to find the aforementioned laptop. He set it down and opened the top, marveling that someone who could curl up to nap on the trackpad had instructed him to set it up. Usually, his encounters with smaller folk didn’t involve much technology unless he wanted to hear all about how it had to be run by magic of some kind. Bowman didn’t believe that something could run on the same energy that sparked in the sky during a storm.

He also left Dean’s notebook near the computer before taking the bag and stepping back. It was hard to look away from someone so small who didn’t care how many corners everything had.

Why would he care? He’s not a sprite, he’s from places like this.