When I read that Sam needed a compass to figure out where north was, during or shortly after the setting sun my brain went “How the hell they can’t tell where north is!?”, only to be followed by the saying “They really lost their north”. Well played chapter title, well played ~Sassy

Lol, thanks!

As for Sam, they were pretty disoriented after Jacob put the Impala down after carrying them through the forest, and after their time hunting a wendigo Sam’s been working on improving their methods of surviving in the forest.

Great trackers, bad navigators. But Dean always has his M&Ms.


October 29th excerpt:

The realization of that mistake coiled around Jacob and his heart sank. He was supposed to be helping, and looking out for Sam. The little guy was trusting him to do that.

If Dean didn’t kick his ass for hot-wiring the Impala, he would for this.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

April 20th excerpt:

Sam drove the final nail in the coffin of his stubborn resistance. “Dean,” he said gently, sitting on the edge of his book with his legs dangling off. “None of us can drive the Impala. If you run yourself into the ground, we’ll be helpless. Please, just eat something.” His eyes, even as small as he was, were wide and round, staring up at Dean beseechingly.

March 16th excerpt:

Bowman fluttered up in front of the hunter to pass him on the way to his spot above the radio, the tip of a wing just barely brushing the front of the thick jacket Dean always wore. Best to do that before Dean was moving the Impala, as he knew the human would gripe at him for being a distraction.

He sat down on the dashboard with a huff, only twitching a little as the the Impala roared to life again. “It was cold in there,” he complained, quite glad to have left the strangely fake bright lights of that store. What little light had leaked into his pocket hiding place had fallen on his wings and provided none of the warmth it promised.

March 14th excerpt:

Sam remained curled against his neck, a sharp eye on their surroundings. He continued to be amazed at the world passing by so speedily. After years of being trapped in one place, he might never stop being awed at how much freedom he had with Dean. All he had to do was speak up and Dean would change the direction of the Impala.

Bowman looked like he was finally adjusting to riding in a car. His wings shifted a bit in the movement as Dean turned the car into the Gas ‘n’ Sip parking lot, the sunlight sending patterns across his wings in bright ripples through the glass window.

“Alright guys, pocket time,” Dean said quietly. He parked in a corner of the lot, away from any other cars so that no one would see the sprite flitting around inside. “Everyone needs to be hidden.”

September 10th excerpt:

That was how they drove for a while, Jacob manning the wheel while they just… went. There was no destination in mind, and the plans were to stop and check out the papers every few towns to see if there was anything suspicious going on. If not, they’d head back out. If there was, it would be time to grab a room and set up home base.

Dean, for his part, was perched like a hawk on the edge of Jacob’s shoulder with one hand on the collar for balance. He would eagerly point out the exits he wanted Jacob to take, somehow managing to meander their way throughout the state in a somewhat straight line. Sam ignored most of that, relaxing in his own spot.

August 18th excerpt:

Dean put his foil-wrapped sandwich down next to the small picnic that was set up for Sam and Bowman. “Make sure no ants go after that for me,” he said as he let it go. “And no sneaking any bites, hear me?”

“Sure, Dean. Whatever you say, Dean,” Sam said in the fakest, most syrupy-sweet voice he could muster. He hid a grin underneath his bangs as he stared down at the wrapper his food was on, knowing exactly how his tone would be taken.

Dean scoffed at the sarcastic tone from his brother. “At this rate I might have to find someone else to ride shotgun in the car.”

July 16th excerpt:

Ten minutes later, and at 5 o’clock on the dot, Dean perked up at the sound of an engine on the road. A black and chrome shadow could be seen between the trees that separated the abandoned lot from the road, and then the Impala was taking the turn. Dean bounded to his feet, then stopped in his tracks.

July 14th excerpt:

Sam spotted the look on Dean’s face, and his white-knuckled grip on the wheel. “Why don’t you turn on some Metallica?” he hissed quietly, remembering something Dean had confided in him long ago. A way to calm down.

Dean scrunched his eyes open to respond and immediately wished he hadn’t as the car lifted off the ground, out of control of either brother. Jacob was now in control, completely.