Tag: sam winchester

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May 8th excerpt:

Jacob almost stumbled, his sneakers hitting the carpet hard for a few steps, but he kept on and pushed the trucks around the foot of the bed.

He angled sharply to take his trucks through the space between the beds, but stopped abruptly. Something in his path drew his attention like a lightning rod, and Jacob’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ as he stared.

It looked like a tiny little action figure, but it wasn’t one of Jacob’s. His eyes were wide with wonder as he stared. The small figure stood mere feet away from him, and Jacob’s face slowly broke into a grin.

The tiny person was staring back, and that meant they weren’t a toy. They were real!

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May 3rd excerpt:

Vel giggled along with the other kids, and then looked at his own hand. After a pause, he curled his fingers towards his palm and stuck out his thumb, which he then displayed for the humans to see. “Okay!” he said proudly.

Jacob chuckled. “Did Sam teach you about thumbs-up?” he asked, noting the way the little nestling held the gesture a little oddly.

Vel nodded. “Yeah! He told me it means ‘good.’ So, good!” He held up his other thumb before letting his hands drop to his lap again.

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Sam tends to not be a fan of black coffee, and pine sap is much worse as far as pure bitterness goes. He probably tried it once at Bowman’s insistance, only to hear the sprite cackle as he made a face. Bowman, by contrast, loves the stuff. Sam’s more likely to go for maple or birch sap, as they are much sweeter and milder than pine.

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Excitement!

Oh, and if anyone notices the excerpts are a little behind our writing speed… well, we’ve been writing more than a chapter a day this week, so we’re more ahead than I thought we’d be. The BU excerpts will show up soon.

As for BU… how about a peek? :3

“No, no, no,” Walt said under his breath as he tried to keep up with Sam’s fleeing figure. He needed to catch the kid before he stumbled himself ass backwards into trouble. The problem was Sam might be scrawny, but he was fast.

After losing Bree so recently, Walt refused to lose another kid like this. Even one that was a human so recently. Big enough to grab Walt up in a fist, and keep him trapped.

Trying to warn Sam’s family of the witch that was going to attack them had ended in failure. Walt was too late. He’d found the room in chaos, the older brother shouting his heart out in a thundering voice, and Sam…

For a moment Walt had feared the child was already dead. Spotting the tiny figure on the ground had solidified his determination, and he’d dared to dart out into the open to haul Sam out of the way. The father of the boys had come in, saving Dean at the last second.

If Walt hadn’t taken Sam, the boy’s own father might have unknowingly stepped on him.

“Sam! Wait up, please! You don’t understand!”

Walt’s shout was ignored. The tiny figure running from him veered for where a crack was letting in light, and his heart fell. That opening lead to one of the closer motel rooms. Sam was defensless if he stumbled into it.

By the time Walt made it to the room, it was already too late.

He squirmed his own way into the room, the leather bag over his shoulder almost catching on the opening. Sam was out in the center of the floor, frozen in fear, and at the end of the towering beds, was…

A human kid, younger than Sam, staring in disbelief at the tiny child.

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Sam gave his arms one last stretch before gathering up his satchel again. “See you bright and early, or whenever you flop out of bed,” he said to Bowman before turning away.

Dean’s body stretched overhead, even flat on his back, so Sam grabbed fistfulls of Dean’s shirt, hauling himself up the hunter. The black flannel shirt Dean was still wearing had a comfortable pocket, the perfect size for Sam to use as a sleeping bag. He’d never tell Dean this, but he sometimes preferred sleeping in there. After a lifetime of being raised to fear humans and after being captured and almost sold off by humans not so ago, sleeping on Dean, Sam’s only real source of safety in world, comforted him.

Nowhere else existed where Sam could guarantee his safety like that. Dean’s rhythmic breathing and the gentle thudding of his heart underneath his body helped soothe him as well.

Once he’d climbed up, Sam walked briskly over, lifting up the pocket flap. Dean rumbled in his sleep as Sam slipped in, getting comfortable. The ground vibrated under him reassuringly.

Dean must have felt Sam climbing his side, because the hand Sam had been sitting on moments ago rose up, stretching protectively over the pocket and Sam. “G’night Sammy,” Dean mumbled before he slipped into sleep again.

Sam smiled. “ ‘Night Dean,” he called up as well, settling comfortably under the shadow of the huge hand. Dean’s thumb rubbed gently up his side once before going slack.

Read more here

Artwork commissioned from @featherpantsgt!

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Since Jacob’s only four-going-on-five years old, there’s a steep chance that if he tries to hide Sam (Jacob, who is the worst liar around when he’s seventeen, trying to keep a secret from his parents at four), they will find him. So we will be finding out exactly how they’ll react during the story. And for anyone who knows Jacob and is familiar with his story, this is the first chance to learn more about his father.

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April 30th excerpt:

Sam decided to take advantage of it all. “I wonder who’ll be taller after this!” he called. Keeping a hand on the hilt of his sword, he bounced up an inch and landed on the pillow next to Bowman, aiming to upset the sprite’s balance. 

Bowman’s grin fell from his face and he stumbled backwards as the pillow sank under Sam’s weight. He tried to compensate his balance with his wings, but in the end the surface under them was too plushy for him to keep his feet.

His last ditch effort to leap up and hover above the pillow failed as well. He couldn’t find his balance and simply ended up falling backwards in a tangle of limbs. “Blast it!” he blurted out, awkwardly trying to roll over and pinning one of his wings.

Above them, Jacob couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Holy shit, Bowman,” he said through his snickers. “I don’t think anyone could have done that any better.”

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It’s an adorable story idea (sadly, Oscar’s mom was gone by this point in time, so she wouldn’t be around to help the boys out). We may do something along the lines of this in the future. There’s a few ideas hopping around for Oscar and the bros, both in my ‘verse and Neon on her own, so you never know what’s going to happen!

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April 29th excerpt:

Sam was barely visible. Only the top of his head was peeking out of the shirt, balled up in it as he was. Reaching out a hand, Dean carefully brushed Sam’s hair so he could see the peaceful expression on his little brother’s face. Sam shifted at the motion, snuggling deeper into the folds. He never woke up.

Dean smiled at that, and went around to the other side of the bed to get in. He did his best to avoid jarring the pillow across from him, but he had a distinct feeling that if any of them were awake for it, it would be closer to a low scale earthquake, based on the amount the pillow shook.

Sinking into his own pillow, Dean kept his eyes on the flannel shirt close by. He at least knew he didn’t roll around in his sleep, and most days he was an incredibly light sleeper. It would have to be enough.