Vengeance: Chapter 3

Desmond slumped back against the glass as he ate. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, the soreness from his struggles and falls were kicking in. No doubt the posture made him look defeated. Which wasn't a bad idea as far as keeping up his ruse went, considering was pretending his had no family or friends to go home to while his life hung in the balance.

"You realize that not everyone who isn't human has it out for humans?" Desmond put in suddenly, knowing he hadn't gotten very far in that argument with Hodge.

Dean made a skeptical noise in between bites, a dark look shadowing his features.  

"Not in my experience. The only extra passengers in this world are chaos and violence and evil sons of bitches who'll tear you apart without blinking an eye." He raised his eyebrows, eyeing the fairy with a world-weariness that made him look years older than he was. "You want me to believe you're all for faith and pixie dust? I'm gonna need some proof."

Dean stood up, balling up the empty wrapper in one hand. "I'm gonna hit the shower. Think you can keep an eye on Tiny for a few minutes?"

Sam mumbled a "yeah," barely glancing up from his research on fairy lore. There certainly was a mixed history on these guys... Either luring humans to serve them, swindling them... Or just minding their own business, according to Celtic folklore. He searched and searched for any particular power that enabled them to transport, but there was nothing--apart from leprechauns.

Sam reached and picked up the vase, setting it to the right of their captive. He could see the confusion quite clearly now on the little guy's face.

"Just some fresh air." He explained. "You can't fly, I saw your wings. If you had a better plan than running, you would have done that by now."

Desmond didn't move right away, wary that this was some trick to get his hopes up. He didn't dare glance in the direction of the one and only exit hidden in the wall. It wouldn't be a problem to get off the table--there was a lamp with a perfectly good cord to the ground. It was the complication of being in arm's reach of a giant.

Carefully, he stood up, keeping his eyes trained on the hunter all the while. He took a few slow steps back, wings folded tightly.

"Just getting some space," Desmond said, hands raising palms-out when the hunter gave him a suspicious look. Deciding not to press his luck, the fairy didn't move any farther, and he certainly didn't give his back to the hunter now that the glass barrier was gone, leaving his wings exposed.

Desmond glanced toward the bathroom door, hearing the water run and wondering what the other hunter would think about him being released from the vase. "So... What exactly are you hoping to get out of me?" He decided it was a reasonable enough question to ask without sounding challenging.

Sam shrugged his broad shoulders, keeping his hand on the edge of the laptop and his eyes on the fairy.

"The truth. All we know right now is something went down between you and Hodge, and now he's dead because of it." Sam answered. He wondered how many times he had answered that question in his lifetime. Victims looking at him like he was the monster... Hell, even Dean had given him that wary glance on occasion. "Look you help us out, we'll let you go. That's all there is to it."

Desmond knew he shouldn't be shocked that the hunter was more inclined to think Hodge was the primary victim when Hodge himself had taken dozens of innocent lives. But he could help the rise in his temper.

"Slaughter is what went down. Towards us. That's the truth," Desmond said, failing horribly at trying to sound matter-of-fact. "Why don't you and your friend look at his death as karma and move on? Me--I'm going to have to deal with what he did for the rest of my life."

Sam drummed his fingers absentmindedly as he frowned in concern. He couldn't help but try to glimpse a peek of the wings on the fairy's back. He had only had a fleeting look when they had flared out before, and he wondered what stories the wounds would tell. As much as he wanted to believe they were here to defend a friend's honor, he got a growing feeling that they were going to end up mopping up another hunter's mess.

"Hodge wouldn't have attacked unless provoked." Sam started out. Fifty-fifty chance, anyway.

It was impossible to not catch the hunter trying to get a look at the wings. The fairy went rigid making no attempt to assist him on that front. He suppressed a shudder, easily feeling the rumble through the table as the hunter drummed his fingers.

Maybe--in hunters' eyes--Hodge had been provoked. By the fairies' mere existence. Desmond didn't dare bring that up for friendly argument, instead sending a faintly accusatory expression upwards.

"Oh, so you knew him well?" Desmond raised his eyebrows unable to help the sarcastic tone from entering his voice. "'Cause I couldn't help but overhear earlier that you didn't remember anything about him. Probably didn't even meet him, did you--Sammy, right?"

Sam stiffened in his seat. Hearing his name from an unfamiliar source was jarring--not to mention the little creep had been eavesdropping.  

"It's Sam." He corrected firmly.

Despite the power he held over this tiny creature, Sam opted to take the high road. The little guy was clearly looking get some sort of rise out of him. An excuse to clam up. Sam clenched his jaw and released it, remaining calm.

"I... Met him a long time ago, when I was young. My brother knew him better than I did." He admitted. "Anything you wanna enlighten me on?"

Truth be told, it was nerve-wracking to see the flash of emotion over Sam's face--the potential anger if not for the control. And over what? Desmond was even more assured in his decision to withhold information for his own safety.

"Let's see, Sam," the fairy said, frowning in thought. "Already mentioned the slaughtering, right? Ah. Well, he knew the easiest way to get the information wanted was to have someone's family watch as they were tortured." He shrugged, guarding his misery behind a wall of mocking remarks. "I think that's enlightening, a little."

The water shut off in the bathroom, followed by a distant shuffling around.

Sam's frown deepened. He glanced at the computer screen- police records of missing people and strange murders in the area ranging from a year before Hodge's death. The weird thing was, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing set off his sixth sense as a hunter, and all evidence was pointing that these fairies lived a pretty quiet life off the radar. Or they were just damn good at covering their tracks.

"But," Sam muttered. He shook his head at the fairy. "That doesn't make sense..."

The bathroom door opened, and Dean walked out in jeans and a white undershirt. His other shirt was visibly hanging off the side of the sink. Sam groaned inwardly at the sight, but knew now was not the time to scold his brother's hygiene habits. Dean raised his eyebrows as he sauntered over.

"It's fine, Dean. He's not running."

"Yet. You get anything out of Tiny here?"

"A bit, yeah. Can I talk to you outside?"

"Sure." Dean picked up the vase and sent the fairy a half-apologetic expression as he replaced the prison around him. "Sorry, little guy."

Two pairs of footsteps shook the floor on the way out of the room. The door creaked shut, then silence.

Erik didn't move out from behind the wall right away, waiting until he was sure the hunters weren't about to walk back in. Deciding it was safe--or at least as safe as it was going to get--the fairy shoved the loose wooden panel fully open and entered the room. Even with the giants gone, he breathed shallowly as he came out of hiding.

Get rid of one hunter, two more come in its place, he thought bitterly. I knew it.

Desmond stood, hands pressed against the glass as he wondered if he could push it to the corner and climb down a table leg. Before he could mull it over, a buzzing sound caught his attention. A figure came up from the floor--fair skin and familiar head of steel-blue hair.

"The hell are you doing!" Desmond's eyes widened in more panic than anger, though anger was very much present.

"Saving you, obviously," Erik snapped, flying up to the vase. Clearly he wanted to remind Desmond that he shouldn't have gone out on his own in the first place, but this wasn't the time. "I don't want to risk breaking this thing by picking it up. They might hear. I'll push it to the edge, and you jump when there's enough room."

It just then occurred to Desmond how risky it would be to escape while the hunters were out of the room, with Erik's help or not. He resisted against the vase as the other fairy pushed it from the center of the table to a mere centimeter from the edge. "Hey-hey, no!"

The pushing ceased. "What? We need to get you out of there!"

"And if I'm gone, you think they'll just give up and call it a day?" Desmond looked up at Erik with a desolate expression. "I'm stuck, man. They'll rip the place apart and find the rest of us. But right now, they think I'm the only one. We need to keep it that way."

The other fairy moved around the side of the vase, hovering level with Desmond. His pale blue eyes were charged with terrified anger. "They'll kill you," he hissed. "Y-You can't--"

"Get out of here before they see you. You and Rosalyn--try to get everyone else out of here. Get back to the grove. With Hodge gone, it... it'll be safe now."

"You're coming."

"No! The second I disappear, no one's gonna be safe. That's what you care about, right? Keeping everyone safe? Don't think of it as leaving me for dead. I'll figure something out, you know that." Desmond pressed his hands against the glass, giving a stony-faced glare. "Now get the hell out before I use your true name and make you."

Erik went silent for a few seconds, wanting to accuse Desmond of bluffing about the true name. But he looked dead serious. "I'm coming back. We can't lose anyone else," Erik said with unwavering finality, darting away from the table after giving Desmond one last scowl.

"Don't!"

But his only answer was silence as the other fairy disappeared.

Stewing in clashed feelings, Desmond realized belatedly that he should have told Erik to move the vase back to the middle of the table.

~~~~

"There's something weird about this." Sam announced.

"What, you mean besides the fairy squatting in our motel room?" Dean snarked. Sam sent him a mild bitchface for his trouble.

"I mean with Rich. There's no history of strange deaths in this area for over 200 years. Some weird legends but nothing fatal."

"What are you getting at?" Dean narrowed his eyes.

"I haven't gotten much out of the little guy, but what he's saying sounds to me like Rich traced them through the local lore and got the best of them. All of them, no questions asked."

"I'm not seeing the issue here."

"What if these fairy things were innocent?"

"They weren't human."

"But they didn't hurt anyone!"

"You don't know that."

"If they did, no one's reported it. Don't you think at least one person might have mentioned being fried by a four inch fairy?" Sam shot back.

Dean huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets as he averted his gaze stonily to the overcast evening sky. He couldn't deny the way things were looking.

"This fairy crap is giving me a headache. Why can't we ever get a good old fashioned haunted house these days?" Dean complained. "Just a routine salt and burn."

After a sigh and a final, searching gaze at the pastel clouds, Dean looked back at his little brother.

"I'll take a turn talking to Tiny. You wanna grab us some beers?"

Sam nodded reluctantly, still plagued by the idea of a man he could barely remember.

~~~~

Dean came back into the motel room with no regard for the word "subtle." His massive frame quickly filled up the glass' warped view as he ambled over to the dinky wooden table.

"Miss me?" His smirk dropped off when he eyed the distance between the vase and the edge of the table. "The hell?"

He gripped the top of the vase and peered in with a pair of huge, bewildered green eyes. How could a four inch person even move something so heavy by comparison?

The entire table quaked as the blonde hunter's immense hands clutched the glass prison. Rattled, Desmond fell back on his ass the second time that day and scrambled as far from the human as possible--not nearly as far as he would have liked.

He understood the confusion on the hunter's face. A centimeter or two was probably the most he could have budged the vase on his own, and that was being generous. But adrenaline rushes made even humans do seemingly impossible things, right? He could only hope that the hunter would be more annoyed by the alleged escape attempt than suspicious.

"H-Had to try, y'know?" Desmond stammered, breathing heavily as if exhausted from moving the vase.

Dean's light eyebrows flattened into an even more severe scrutiny. He remained close enough to the glass that his breath fogged up the outside a bit, eyeballing the tiny occupant within. After a couple tense moments, Dean backed off, pushing the vase back to the center of the table.

"Uh-huh. And how's that working out for you?"

After having heaved himself to his feet to avoid behind shoved by the glass, Desmond slumped back down and shrugged at the hunter, trying to not make his relief too obvious. Of course, the little incident of the vase miraculously moving to the edge wouldn't do him any favors.

"Major setback currently, but it's a work in progress," the fairy answered, sarcasm continuing to inexplicably make it past the barrier of overwhelming intimidation. He gave a brief glance to the side, and even unable to see much more than the human, he could tell they were alone in the room. "Where's the other one?"

"What, are you sick of me already?" Dean asked, picking up their sarcastic battle as naturally as breathing. "Now you're just hurting my feelings." A smear of chocolate on the table caught his eye. He smudged it with his finger, rubbing it into crumbles between a finger and thumb. "Thought you said you were hungry."

Desmond didn't answer right away, eyes locked on the dauntingly huge fingers before him as the hunter casually crushed the bit of chocolate like it was nothing. He wasn't sure if the simple act was an intentional way to spook him further, but it worked all the same.

"You know, being snatched by a couple of giants and trapped under a vase for no good reason tends to make a person's appetite disappear," the fairy responded, gaze darting higher to the green-eyed hunter's face. "If you're so concerned, you could call it a day, let me out, and I can go back to finding my own food."

Dean chuckled, honestly taken off guard by the word "giant." He wasn't the shortest guy around, but he certainly wasn't THAT big.

"Let me get this straight, you can beam a hole through somebody's chest, but you can't conjure up some decent sandwiches?" He raised a skeptical eyebrow. As far as he was concerned, the fairy knew something about Hodge's death. And he was going to press him for it until he cracked.  

Desmond's mouth fell open, an incredulous smile tugging the corners of his lips up. He scoffed, staring at the hunter for a few moments and trying to gauge if he was being serious.

"Are you kidding me? You still think--" The fairy's words tapered off in a groan as he raised his hands to his head, massaging his temples. He sighed, gathering patience as if he was speaking to a petulant child. Close enough. "If I could do that, put a hole in a person's chest, don't you think I would have--I dunno, utilized that little skill by this point?"

"I think either you killed him, or you know who did." Dean answered bluntly. It was shocking, how easily his normal speaking voice overwhelmed the fairy's. "People's worst enemies don't just drop dead for no reason. No one's that lucky."

Dean's patience was running thin. But he certainly couldn't use conventional interrogation tactics--it would kill the little guy!

How dare you not believe my lie, Desmond thought sarcastically, frankly shocked that he was still breathing. Telling the truth wouldn't get the hunters off his back. All it would do was risk revealing there were other surviving fairies. But his stubbornness and clipped answers were clearly making him more and more of a suspect.

Desmond jumped to his feet, walking right up to the glass barrier separating him from the hunter. A shudder ran through him, leading to immediate second thoughts of the bold few steps. He wanted to retreat back, but he forced himself to hold his ground, even with those formidable green eyes burning holes in him.

"I--don't--know," the fairy insisted, all traces of incredulous laughter absent from his face. "He was a hunter--there's no way he could have gone through life without other things pegging him as their worst enemy." He had a bitter taste in his mouth at indirectly referring to himself as a "thing." But that was all the hunters saw him as, anyway. "There's probably a dozen other monsters you could be interrogating. But since I'm so lucky, here I am."

"Probably." Dean agreed evenly. "But you know, that's just not as convenient as have a miniature suspect walk right into our hands." He narrowed his eyes a little, a dangerous confidence twisting his lips up at the corners. "We can play this game all night long."