AU: Brothers Saved
Timeline: Sam is 10, Dean is 14; occurs directly after Brothers Saved 2
The kitchen was only a few steps away now, and Sam quickly nudged the door with his boot, flipping on the light with an elbow so he didn’t have to open his hand up again.
“Made it,” Sam announced as he uncurled his hands and moved them to the table. Dean stumbled to his feet and dropped to his knees as soon as solid ground was under him, pretending to kiss the ground.
Sam rolled his eyes at the dramatics. “It wasn’t that bad!” he protested as he stood on his tiptoes to reach the hot dogs in the freezer.
“Says you!” Dean argued back, going to his feet again and pacing around the area. His old curiosity shone through as he investigated books that could be buildings and pushed around a pen that was three times his height.
Sam watched from a distance as he filled a pot with water, dumping three of the hot dogs into it and putting it on the burner like he’d watched Dean do before. Everything he did these days felt like he was mimicking Dean, trying to fill his brother’s shoes.
Dean sat down with a huff on one of the books. “At least the ground doesn’t move,” he said, rubbing his head.
“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” Sam asked worriedly.
Dean glanced up, the bridge of his nose pinched between two fingers. “Nah. Even the bed was getting old. Can’t stand without it trying to toss me to my knees.” He stomped his boot on the wood grain. “This is much better.”
Sam grinned, heartened to hear it wasn’t just him. “That’s good. The hot dogs’ll be done soon. Oh!”
Dean looked up at the sudden increase in volume.
“I almost forgot,” Sam said apologetically. He reached into his pocket. “This shrank with you but it fell out of your hands.”
He held his hand out to Dean, and Dean was drawn to his feet without thought. Sitting in the center of Sam’s palm, almost lost in a crease in the skin, was Dean’s colt. The gun entrusted to him by John, used to protect Sammy.
Dean didn’t even think about the size of Sam’s hand as he leaned a hand against the thick skin and reached over. The metal was warmed from its protracted time against Sam’s warmth, but the familiarity of that metal, the touch of the etchings under his fingers, it all felt right to Dean.
“I thought I’d lost this,” Dean said wonderingly, shifting it to catch the light. Reverently, he sat down and started taking it apart, practiced movements as he checked to make sure everything was in working order.
“I’ve got some extra ammo in my jacket,” Dean mused to himself as he snapped the barrel back on and sighted along his arm, taking care to never aim it at Sam. Small or not, the gun could still do damage. “Maybe enough to last until we figure this out and get me normal.”
Sam smiled, sadness in his eyes as he remembered each time John or Bobby had checked in. Unsuccessfully.
“Yeah, Dean. Normal in no time.”
More coming tomorrow!