#spritely sam

"How about you land before asking questions!" Bowman answered, even as he banked around to take hold of the handle bars atop Sam's glider. With his extra momentum, he dragged the glider forward through the air so Sam didn't plummet, and aimed them for one of the many tables.

As much as Bowman wanted to meet Dean Winchester himself, he wasn't about to shirk his duties. When Sam flew with him, they had to look out for each other.

"There's two blasted Jacobs, too," he groused as he lead the slow dive to their landing. A glance behind showed that the Jacob they knew was still waiting in the (annoyingly square) doorway.

"Dude, what the hell..." the newest Jacob muttered, staring around the room. Hesitantly, he stepped across the threshold so the door could close behind him, and followed the descent of the two green shapes he already knew among a room full of people he only thought he knew.

The new entrants to the room had not gone unnoticed by anyone. With their green clothing and vibrant wings, they stood out among the drab colors of a dive bar, nearly glowing in the luminescent light.

And, naturally, were recognized.

“Bowman!” one of the Deans called, the one loitering around the pool tables. A broad grin split his face as he saw the sprite landing on the table with a second winged ally.

He didn’t get the sense from Bowman that he was the same sprite they’d met a few cases back, but that didn’t much matter in a place like this.

“Who’s that with him?” Sam asked, motioning for Dean to give him a lift.

Dean scooped him up and dropped him on his shoulder with a bit more casual of a motion than normal. “Dunno,” he said, wandering towards the new trio. His eyes widened as the other person came into focus, removing belts that held him to a pair of wings designed much like Bowman’s.

“Sam? ”

The spritely Winchester looked up, briefly filled with hope as he saw there was a Dean standing there. A mountain of disappointment hit him as he saw a second figure sitting on his shoulder, his face falling. He glanced around, looking for a Dean without a Sam.

But there was none.

Bowman smirked, but couldn’t tease his own Sam about it without inviting it back on himself. They both had a knack for finding trouble right at its source. They’d found their Jacob in the most touch-and-go first meeting they could have managed. “Well, he’s way stronger than anyone else in Wellwood, so I think Scar would have taken him on even without catching him messing with swords,” he pointed out. “Blasted strength can even keep me from flying off.”  To punctuate the complaint, he nudged at Sam with the edge of his wing.

While the banter moved back and forth up on the table, a small figure made his way towards them down on the ground. The Lounge’s smallest occupant, Oscar had a lot of ground to cover if he wanted to go meet the newcomers.

Luckily, the bartender always seemed to make sure no one was in danger. Oscar could walk right up to Dean’s boot without worry. “Um. Dean?” he called up, as loudly as he could. He even tugged lightly at a shoelace. “Can I come up and see?”

It wasn’t the voice, but the tugs that let Dean know Oscar was there. He glanced down, feeling a slight bit of vertigo when he saw Oscar standing all the way down by his boot. Even more than when Sam was on the ground, Oscar gave Dean the feeling that he was a building.

Shifting his boot away from Oscar, careful not to tug the kid off his feet, Dean knelt down and gently scooped him into a hand with a light finger. “Wait until you see these two,” he chuckled, ruffling Oscar’s hair. “I might even have to pry the other kids off the arcade machines.”

Lowering his hand right next to Sam, Dean let Oscar slide right off, barely waist-high next to his little brother. “I’m gonna go grab some drinks for everyone, any requests?” he said, pushing himself up and looking at Bowman. Everyone else, he had memorized. Spritely Sam was still Sam at his core.

Bowman was almost distracted by the young nestling-sized kid staring at him with wide eyes. He did a double take, and then decided he would challenge the skills of whoever was making the drinks. This was no Wellwood, after all. "Pine tea, if they have it," he replied with a smirk. "If not, water would do."

The next time he glanced down, Oscar had wandered closer to him and Sam. The vibrant greens of their clothes was a stark contrast to his own drab greys.

Oscar straightened when he saw Bowman looking at him just as curiously. "Um. I'm Oscar, and I live in a motel. When I'm not here, I mean. This place is better."

Jacob glanced at Dean with wide eyes before chiming in his answer. "It's a human drink, Bowman. Means it has alcohol in it."

"Dude, you just missed the mini-us," another deep voice joined in. The oldest of any Jacob there wandered over to greet the newcomers. "There was a Jacob that got cursed, apparently. They left before you guys showed up, but you'll probably get to meet them next time."

Bowman leaned away from the even-more-giant giant and then glanced to his Sam. "One of him is sprite-sized? "

Jacob waved a hand at the two very green little guys on the table and grinned. “Stands out almost as much as you do, buddy,” he greeted. “Dude, did you teach your Sam to fly?”

Sam grinned encouragingly. “Bowman thinks he taught me to fly,” he said as he caressed one of the wings of his glider. He could see the attention it was getting, and from looking around the Lounge at all the other Sams, could understand why.

He was the only one, aside from Bowman, wearing the colors of Wellwood.

“I ended up in the Wellwood when I got cursed,” Sam explained as Dean sat down, a fascinated look in his eyes for the leaf glider. The other Sam started to climb down so he could join them. “Figured if I can’t fly like they can, I’d just make my own wings.”

To demonstrate, Bowman stretched out one of his own wings next to the glider. The wingspan was nearly the same, and there was definitely a resemblance between the two. After years of poking at Bowman’s wings, Sam had been able to make his own, and all teasing aside, Bowman was proud.

“We look after Wellwood as a team,” he boasted, shooting both the Jacobs a grin. The younger one shrugged sheepishly and Bowman snickered. “Even gave that giant right there a reason to think twice.”

Jacob nodded even as he joined the others in sitting at the table. He held up his hand to show off the bandaging over the back of it, hiding a long gash in it. “Sam jumped up onto my hand when, uh. When I tried to grab him.”

Dean snorted, and his Sam sent him a scolding look. “Yeah, uh, so far we’ve seen all the Jacobs making… quite an impression,” he said with a smirk. “We’ve got big and tall over here,” he nodded at the oldest Jacob, and then at the next table over where a matching set of cursed Sam and Dean played a game of pool, “who managed to get sliced up twice for grabbing those Winchesters. Shorty by the bar definitely regretted grabbing Sam…” That Jacob still had a black eye to match his sliced hand. “The only one who made it out in one piece is half-pint, who’ll be back later. So far as I can tell.”

“Dude, don’t miss out on saying high to him when he gets back,” the older Jacob said, lightly punching the newest Jacob on the shoulder. “Seeing double is already a trip, right? Imagine seeing yourself pocket-sized.”

“Pocket-sized?” Bowman interjected with a wary glare.