– I won’t be doing anything with this prompt at this time, but this may be touched on in the future. It is an adorable scenario! Walt and Mallory will always love their boys, no matter how they change.
(Thank you so much! And yes, I am taking prompts, whether they be from this post or general prompty goodness. I tend to do better with more open prompts, of course.)
Sleeping. For this one, Jacob Andris and Bowman Leafwing claimed the story.
It is Fairy Tales canon, though I haven’t really set a time for it. Most likely this is the summer after the events of Bowman of Wellwood.
Jacob was so absorbed in finishing up his homework, he didn’t notice the quiet at first. Out in Wellwood, in the clearing that the wood sprites had dubbed ‘his’, the wind whispered peacefully in the trees. The sky was an even mix of pale blue and the fluffy gray-white of the clouds scattered about.
The forest, private land with a fence to keep most people out, was an idyllic place far removed from the rest of the world. Jacob hardly had any bars on his phone. It wasn’t the first time he’d brought his homework out to try to get something done while he was relaxing out there.
However, there was usually a voice chattering away, either asking questions or telling stories of his own. Bowman Leafwing, Jacob’s best friend, was not a shy wood sprite by any stretch of the imagination.
This is Fairy Tales canon. Bowman is newly 19, and it takes place the winter after the events of Bowman of Wellwood.
Reading Time: ~5-10 minutes
The main room was cozy and warm. Candara had Prayed all morning to bring warmth coursing through their home branch, and the Earth Spirit’s magic granted them a warmer home despite the bitter cold outside. The breeze leaking through the shaded windows promised that stepping outside would require several layers.
Bowman was restless as he was every winter, but he didn’t feel like going out just yet. In the deadest part of winter, his wings twitched with shivers and the desire to fly both. Today, he remained inside with the others to avoid that chill.
Candara and Larxe sat together on one of the cushioned benches in the room, their wings around each other like leafy green cloaks. Candara rested her head on Larxe’s chest, tired out after Praying for so much warmth. Bowman sat by the wall and let the heat creep up his spine and into his folded wings. His right leg was drawn up, but the left one stretched out in front of him. He stared at it absently.
Rischa wandered over to him to sit down at his side. Bowman lifted an arm so his young cousin could snuggle closer to him with her blanket over her shoulders. “It’s hurting again,” she noted, glancing at Bowman’s leg.
It had healed months ago. And yet, sometimes, Bowman’s knee would have phantom pains in it from when he’d injured it. Those pains, Cerul had told him, would never go away completely. Too much strain on it, or even sometimes just the cold that came with the snowy weather would make the old wound site tender and sore.
He would always have the reminder of a human hand closing over his body and slowly applying pressure until he couldn’t even scream for mercy.
Rischa suddenly freed her arms from her blanket to hug Bowman around his waist and he jolted right out of his thoughts. He looked down at her in surprise and noted that her eyes were shut tight and she didn’t look ready to let go anytime soon. He smiled faintly and reached down to pull her blanket back up over her.
“It’s only a little, Birdie,” he told her in a hushed voice.
She looked up at him with concern in her eyes. Bowman never was any good at hiding things from Rischa. Ever since she’d realized her gift of the Voice, he could hide even less. She could read his heart like curling script was written on his wings. She knew where his thoughts inevitably went when his knee flared up. She knew the fear and pain and despair that he remembered, like echoes of a thunderstorm. She was only eight, and yet she already weathered the feelings of everyone around her.
Rischa reached up with one little hand to cup her palm on Bowman’s cheek. Her thumb brushed under his eye as if wiping away a tear that hadn’t been released, and she smiled at him. “I know. It’s okay, Bowman,” she told him.
He gave her a half smile, and his brow pinched with bemusement. “Look at you trying your best to freeze,” he said, pretending to scold her. He pulled her blanket up higher so it rested over her head and covered her golden eyes, getting a delighted giggle from her.
He opened one wing to wrap it around his young cousin and she snuggled closer to him. They took in the warmth together, and the cold couldn’t get to them. Bowman hummed quietly, a sound that Rischa could hear resounding in his chest. Even with the responsibility settled on her by her gift, Bowman would let her be a child for as long as he could.
An echo of thunder rolled around Sean, and he dove underneath the scraps of fabric that made up his ‘nest.’
Standing at only three inches in height, the young boy blinked out at the world from his protective cocoon, huge tears flowing from his eyes. This was wrong. Everything was wrong, and he was scared.
Summoned by the yelp he’d heard, Walt Watch limped around the doorway that lead to the room Sean was staying in. The older man held his side tenderly, and Sean remembered hearing that his entire home had caved in on him, knocking him just out of range of a fire that raged. Walt was as lucky as Sean to be alive.
But at least he was used to being small.
“Hey, there,” Walt said, sitting next to Sean’s protective fort. “How are you hanging in?”
Sean said nothing, just blinked blearily at the older man. Another rumble of thunder came, this time with the rhythmic sounds of footsteps accompanying it. That made him dive down, out of sight. He hated the reminder of how small they were.
Walt put a hand on the top of the piled-up fabric. Krissy and Bennett had given up the extra room for Sean, since he wasn’t used to sharing with anyone the way they were. They were staying in the same room as their mother, and Walt had the room next to Sean’s. The young boy reminded him so much of Sam all those years ago. Afraid and alone and lonely. Forced to confront realities that no child deserved.
“Look, they don’t know we’re here,” Walt said wisely. “They won’t hear us, they won’t bother us. Sam once told me that humans had a way of getting through thunderstorms if young children were afraid. He said to just think of it as God getting a shower, and the thunder as his footsteps. Those humans up there are the same. Just walking around, minding their own business.”
Sean peeked out at Walt. “B-but if they find us…” he said in a half-moan of fear.
Walt ruffled his hair. “They won’t,” he promised. “We’ve got a safe home here. Besides, if it wasn’t for humans, we wouldn’t have much to eat, now, would we?”
Sean blinked back at him, looking unconvinced.
“If you want, I can stick around for a bit,” Walt offered. “Staying in a strange place all alone can be scary.”
Sean rubbed his eyes. “I’d like that,” he said shyly. “It’s just all so… different…”
“Sam said the same thing when we first found him,” Walt nodded. Sean’s wide eyes encouraged him to continue. Though Sean had never met Sam, he’d heard all about his rescuer from Krissy and Bennett. “He was just about your age back then…”
Walt told stories about Sam’s first days cursed until Sean couldn’t hold his eyes open any longer, and the young boy drifted off to sleep.
With a startled exclamation, Krissy drew her hand away from the needle she was trying to work with. A droplet of blood glistened on her fingertip, wavering as her hand shook.
“Here, let me see,” Mallory’s soft voice came, and a careful hand wrapped around Krissy’s slim wrist.
Mallory had decided to take the day to show Krissy some of the ropes on her sewing techniques. The boys were all out of the house except for Krissy’s younger brother, Bennett, who stayed back at her place to watch over their ailing mother. Sam and Walt would come back with enough food for both families, with any luck, and they would help support each other as best they could. It was good for Krissy to get out from time to time like this. She needed to get some space to herself, and she was one of the most adept people when it came to tiny, intricate movements.
They’d begun with dethreading some of the fabric Sam had found for them. A combination of blues and greens, Mallory was thrilled to have some color to work with for once. Krissy had claimed the green, and was trying her best to mimic the sewing techniques of Mallory. She was getting there, and one day might be able to make clothing like the jeans and jackets Sam and Walt were so fond of. Human designs really were versatile, no matter than they made the Watch family stand out among people their own size. It wasn’t like they went to gatherings very often.
Mallory blotted the blood from Krissy’s hand. “It’ll get easier as you go,” she said with a gentle smile. She held out her hand. As small and slim as her fingers were, the fingertips were covered with calluses from long years of sewing. Mallory poked at her fingertip with a needle. “I can barely feel it now,” she said with a grin.
Krissy’s eyes were wide. At just over seventeen, she idolized the older woman. Mallory was one of the few staples in her life, which was why she’d claimed all the green fabric. It was Mallory’s favorite color. If Krissy could make something to thank her with, it would need to be green.
Once her finger stopped throbbing, Krissy resumed her careful actions. Her tongue stuck out of her mouth and she concentrated hard on the fabric, determined to make the green dress that she saw in her mind a reality.
I chose Jacob Andris for this one. The number corresponds to “Ice Cream”, which was a tough one to place until @nightmares06 gave me a suggestion. This takes place when Jacob is 14, in the Supernatural AU that she and I collaborated on, Brothers Adopted (find out more about it here).
Reading Time: ~5-10 minutes
Jacob had been drawn outside to the tinny sound of the ice cream van, along with a gaggle of other youth ranging from his mid-teen age to a couple kids barely past the toddler stage, clutching their mothers’ hands and pointing out what they wanted from the colorful menu splashed on the side of the van. His mom was out, so she couldn’t even try to discourage him from indulging in something for himself.
They were on vacation; weren’t they supposed to be treating themselves a little?
It was the first road trip he’d been able to take with family in a long time. His mother didn’t like to drive long distances too often, and she had trouble getting the time off work to make a trip in the first place. That, coupled with the fact that Jacob was only 14 and thus not permitted to drive, meant that this trip took a lot more planning ahead than many road trips tended to.
Jacob made sure to wait towards the back of the group crowded around the van. The smiling ice cream vendor took orders from the younger kids, patiently waiting for them to make up their minds and taking their piles of change with a good-natured laugh. By the time the rest had been served, Jacob had been standing there with his hands in his gray hoodie pocket for nearly ten minutes.
“Oh, I didn’t forget ya, kiddo, I might just have something left for you,” the man greeted as Jacob finally approached him. “What’ll ya have?”
Jacob smiled back, put at ease by the man’s cheerful nature. He was willing to bet that attitude sold more ice cream than the bored looks of some vendors. “I’ll just have an ice cream sandwich, dude,” he replied, already digging into his jeans pocket for his money.
“That’ll be two-fifty,” the vendor replied, before turning to rummage in one of his freezers. Jacob found two crumpled ones in his pocket, and sorted out enough coins to make up the rest. These he placed in the man’s hand just as he turned back with Jacob’s purchase ready. “Thanks bud, enjoy it!”
“You bet,” Jacob replied, stepping back from the curb so the van could pull away and find another neighborhood to entice.
Jacob unwrapped his prize on the way back to the motel room. The breeze carried the scents of the nearby fields mixed with the pungent odor of asphalt from the parking lot. The wide dome of the Kansas sky was already tinting in yellow and pink, signalling a coming sunset. Jacob’s mom had headed out to get some food and supplies (all their planning and she’d forgotten her toothbrush).
He paused at the door of their room to glance back out over the parking lot. The motel wasn’t very busy, with most of its parking stalls empty. A flickering Vacancy! sign desperately called for more guests, right underneath the big moniker of the motel itself: Trails West.
After watching the sky a few minutes, Jacob wandered back into the room. He locked the door not out of paranoia, but out of respect for his mom’s wishes; she didn’t want someone to barge in at any point.
Facing the room, Jacob almost swore he saw a small shape darting under the dresser. He paused with his eyebrows raised, before shrugging and ambling into the room without concern. They were only there for the night, and the mice probably wouldn’t do any harm. Just don’t let mom spot you, little guys, he warned them in his head.
He flopped onto his bed with the remainder of his ice cream and grabbed the remote to turn on the TV. He absently unclasped his necklace, a twine choker with a single green bead, to set it safely on the nightstand. After that, he settled in, already thinking with excitement of the day ahead of them.
Jacob was nearly done with his treat when a knock came at the door. He tilted his head and glanced at the clock, wondering if his mom was back already. Then, with a shrug, he stood to answer the door. The wrapper from the ice cream was tossed into the bin on the way, and he unlocked the door to open it and see who’d come knocking.
Note: This prompt is canon to Brothers Adopted, and goes hand-in-hand with the prompt received by @neonthewrite for ice cream – Jacob. See the other half of the prompt here.
The day was as beautiful as a day could get. The warm sun above, birds chirping in the trees.
Children gathering by the ice cream truck.
Celeste contented herself watching from a distance. Her glamor was perfect, and she could spy on all the children around the area like this with ease. The baby carriage in front of her sealed off the disguise, blending her in with the other moms that hovered around, watching their children run to get sweets from the ice cream man.
After ten years of waiting for that other child to resurface, Celeste had her eyes on a new target.
Her failure to catch both Winchester boys still stung at her. That day, more than any other day in her long life, stood out. The punishments alone left scars that no one would ever see.
But her master knew, and that’s all that mattered. She couldn’t fail again.
She grit her teeth, meandering so she had more distance from the mothers that cooed over her ‘child,’ a creation of air and light that appeared real enough to any untrained human eyes. She wanted to focus.
Her target was a little old for her normal tastes. Normally, she’d go for a younger kid. They were more adaptable. They had more opportunity to grow into the benefits the magic would give them. These humans thought it was a curse, to end up so small, but if they realized the potential…
Of course, not everyone got abilities that were useful. Without seeing Sam for herself, she had no way of knowing what gift he’d been given. Children were so adaptable, but had they chosen wrong when they’d targeted the Winchesters? She had been certain those brothers would be the ones, but they she’d failed to curse them both, and been chased out before seeing how Sam had made out.
Maybe today she would find out. See if her experiment had been successful, or if she needed to find new victims in yet another town.
The kid hovered at the back of the line. He was the tallest one there, and with a lean, strong build. She looked forward to seeing what became of him, though she doubted he’d appreciate the gift. His hoodie on during the warm day made him stand out. Easy to track and watch.
When at last he had his ice cream, she marked the motel room he vanished into. She wondered at her theory, that there were others of the little people in the walls. Perhaps today she could prove that theory, once he was given his gift.
A cruel smile crossed her face, and she strode deliberately across the parking lot. One elegant hand reached up to knock on the door.
He would be hers, just like Sam and so many others had before him.
Oscar couldn’t sleep. He had a huge pillow to rest on and a warm shirt to curl up in, but his attention was focused away from them. At night, sometimes, he was up and about searching for food, after all. He was used to sleeping when he was tired, and at the moment he wasn’t tired.
He sat up on the pillow with his legs stretched out in front of himself and his hands braced on the plushy surface beneath him. Nearby, he could hear the quiet pattern of Sam breathing, sprawled under the shirt-blanket. Sam was a little more used to sleeping every night, or most every night.
Dean’s breathing was much easier to hear. His huge lungs were bigger than Oscar’s home in the walls. Probably. Those breaths created little breezes back and forth over the pillow, with the way Dean had hugged it protectively close. Oscar had stayed in the big motel room more and more often as the days wore by. He spent so much time with his friends, and couldn’t be happier.
It wasn’t doubt or even fear for the big, wide open room that kept Oscar awake now. For once, his reason was peaceful and without worry. He stared at the window of the motel room, where the edge of a curtain had gotten caught in just away that left it hanging open a few inches.
To someone who barely stood over two inches tall, it was a wide break in the fabric indeed. Oscar stared at the sky beyond that window in awe. The streetlamp outside had flickered out earlier, and after that, Oscar couldn’t look away.
Oscar could see the stars out there.
Little twinkling lights seemed to peek back at him. Oscar had only ever seen the daytime sky with them, so far. By the time night fell, they were always safely back in the room to watch TV or run and play (sometimes with Dean trying to catch Sam and Oscar as they laughed and scurried away).
Oscar sighed contentedly and lay back down to draw some of the shirt over himself. He curled up, but made sure he could still see that small space between the curtains. He fell asleep watching the stars for the first time in his life.
Set in the Brothers Together au created with @nightmares06. Oscar is about 12 in this one.
Oscar didn’t fully understand it, but every once in a while the office staff would decorate the lobby of the motel. He vaguely remembered his mom telling him that the humans had special days that they liked to celebrate every year. Since he didn’t have a calendar (and could barely make sense of one anyway), he was still learning when to anticipate these days.
He watched surreptitiously from a vent as one of the older staff members, a lady with hearing problems and a frown stuck in the wrinkles on her face, trudged around the room. Despite her scowly appearance, she seemed pleasant to every person that came in and Oscar knew her voice well. It was softer than it looked like it should be, and she talked about her grandchildren to whomever would listen.
He sometimes wished he had a grandmother like her. Someone that could take care of him since he didn’t have anyone at all. He was twelve years old and it had been four years since he had warm food.
At least Oscar remembered that he was supposed to check the office sometimes, make sure they weren’t planning any pest control or something. That was how he’d found the woman in the lobby, frowning around absently and hanging paper shapes from the ceiling or taping them to the walls.
They were pumpkins with scary faces or black bats with fanged grins. Some of the shapes were stylized pictures of wrapped candies. Oscar knew this one. He frowned thoughtfully and tried to remember the word.
One of the maids came into the room to duck behind the front desk and find something back there. She grinned at the shapes already hung up. “Getting ready for Halloween?” she asked.
Aha! Oscar thought with a faint smile. While the ladies struck up a conversation, he inched back away from the vent. He had seen what he needed to, and he needed to focus on seeking out food now.
‘Halloween’ was a strange holiday for the humans. Oscar didn’t know what it was for, but he never questioned it, because a lot of times people had late nights away from their bed. Seeking food was easier. It also meant that the one they called ‘Thanksgiving’ was coming up, and after that was ‘Christmas.’ Lots of people drifted through and dropped more crumbs than usual.
Oscar didn’t celebrate the holidays the same way humans did, but they were worth looking forward to in his own way. Anything that made his life easier was to be celebrated.
He ventured into the dark with silent steps and found himself drifting back in memories again. He wondered with a peaceful acceptance if his friends were out there somewhere, excited to do whatever it was humans did on Halloween and Thanksgiving and Christmas. Like he often did, he imagined finding Sam around the corner, beckoning him to hurry back to the room, inviting him to join Sam and Dean for their celebration this year.
Come on, Oz, Dean’s already started! Sam said in his imagination.
Oscar smiled and walked faster, even though he didn’t really have anywhere to go. It was nice to imagine, though. He knew that this Halloween wouldn’t be any different than any of his other Halloweens, or any in the future. Oscar was there to stay.
He could still celebrate. He had his memories to keep him company.
“Oscar,” Jacob repeated. The shift in the tension in the air was palpable. Even though the little guy was curled up warily on the table, getting a name out of him felt like a step forward. A tiny step forward, but it was better than watching him cry and not knowing if he was hurt. Knowing he caused those tears had sent Jacob reeling.
“I’m Jacob,” he replied, allowing the faintest smile to cross his face. “Where, um, where did you come from, Oscar?”
Oscar shrugged, the tiniest little shoulders Jacob had ever seen, and wiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I always lived here,” he replied. His voice was still rough from his crying, but it wavered less than before.
“And you came to get food,” Jacob mused. Holy shit. He couldn’t help but think of how desperate Oscar must have been to climb his backpack for food, if someone Jacob’s size inspired this much terror. Was the little guy living out of that bag with nothing else to his name?
Brothers Apart 