Tag: logan and sam

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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?”

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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.

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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.