April 20th excerpt:
Sam drove the final nail in the coffin of his stubborn resistance. “Dean,” he said gently, sitting on the edge of his book with his legs dangling off. “None of us can drive the Impala. If you run yourself into the ground, we’ll be helpless. Please, just eat something.” His eyes, even as small as he was, were wide and round, staring up at Dean beseechingly.
I’ve actually never
read the poem, or
gone to see Cats (my high school picked Jekyll and Hyde instead, I had voted for Cats myself), so I had to look this one up.
Really, Dean’s main issue is going to be the constant sneezing. How’s he supposed to think straight to figure things out when his head’s filled with cotton balls, his nose won’t stop running, and his eyes itch like nuts? He’ll be convinced it’s all a ploy to get the best of him.
The bros might be better to handle the supernatural aspect of things with clear heads, since Sherlock might be none too pleased to hear about the strange feats of the cat, determined to find a reasonable explanation for it all.
Looks like everyone’s as exited as I am to get a bit more of the BS bros out there! We left Dean hungry, time to go fix!
AU: Brothers Saved
Timeline: Sam is 10, Dean is 14; occurs directly after Brothers Saved 2
Sam’s free hand moved at Dean, and he found himself leaping backwards off the other hand to avoid the grab.
“Whoa!”
Sam froze in place, his eyes wide. There was no mischief hidden in those eyes, just concern and worry.
“You… you wanted food, right?” Sam asked softly. “That’s downstairs. You…”
He trailed off, looking away. Dean followed his line of thought, inserting his own words into Sam’s voice.
You need help getting there.
Dean’s lips thinned into a line. True or not, he was wary of hands that were as big as his entire body. Sam could pinch him between two fingers if he got annoyed, and Dean could remember them arguing on more than one occasion. All it would take was Sam getting annoyed one time, and those hands could turn on him.
They won’t, a small voice whispered in the back of Dean’s mind. He still looks up to you and always will.
Dean wasn’t interested in listening to such a voice, more concerned about his current predicament and how he’d manage to avoid being carried around like a doll. He held his hands up placatingly. “Can’t you just… bring the food up here?” he offered with hope that Sam would go for it.
Dean was allowed that spark of hope for a few moments as Sam thought it over, then it all came crashing down as he shook his head in a negative. “Dad said I can’t leave you on your own,” Sam said. “That means you have to stick with me when I go downstairs.”
Dean swallowed, growing more nervous at the reminder of stairs. Bad enough the bed was tall enough to be a building. Worse to imagine stairs that were higher, and being carried down them.
“N-no,” Dean said shakily. “I’ll wait here. I’ll be fine.”
The hand Sam had resting on the bed came to life, the larger-than-life movements catching Dean off guard and making him jump in surprise. Sam nudged Dean lightly in the side, almost playfully, though he was strong enough that his nudge almost sent Dean tumbling on the plush surface.
“Gonna live your life out on a bed? ” Sam asked, the humor not lost on him. “Dean, you’ve been sleeping for a week and I haven’t dropped you or let you get hurt. I promise I’m careful.”
Dean stubbornly stared down at the bed, refusing to meet Sam’s gaze.
“Please, Dean?” Sam pressed, this time resting his chin on the bed.
“It’s not about that!” Dean protested plaintively, turning around on his heel and walking away from Sam. He knew if he looked into those eyes there would be no saying no. It didn’t matter that his strides were so small Sam could cross the distance in seconds. He just needed space.
“Then what is it about?” Sam asked softly, hearing Dean’s tiny stomach grumble again. It had to really be bothering him if he was ignoring food over it.
“It’s just–” Dean ground to a halt. “Everything’s so big! ” he complained, waving his hand over his head. “You, the bed… It’s all so high, and I can’t do anything now, not even get to the kitchen on my own!” He gulped as he tried to imagine just how far away that would be for him without Sam’s help.
“I’ll be careful, Dean, I promise,” Sam swore, inching his hand closer to where Dean was standing. That tiny back stiffened as though he could hear it, and upon reflection, Sam realized Dean probably could. “You’re safe with me and always will be.”
As gently as he’d ever done anything, Sam laid a fingertip on Dean’s shoulder, determined to not knock him off balance but wanting to offer his support.
Asks and prompts open for this AU!
More coming tomorrow!
April 19th excerpt:
Dean tried to glare at all of them, but it didn’t work while being ganged up on from three different directions. Sam on his own was bad enough. “I’m fine,” he repeated stubbornly, digging in his heels from sheer cussedness. “I’m just… not hungry, alright?”
His stomach disagreed with him, grumbling in aggravation. Dean glared downwards, annoyed with the internal betrayal of his stubborn stance.
Traitor.
Well, the only reason there hasn’t been more up until now is because of personal issues after the convention in January, keeping me from writing, and then when I did start writing again, I finished off the Brothers Apart story I was working on instead of starting a new project.
The Brothers Saved 2 post was just the first of a few quick shorts I wrote up for the AU this week, and more will follow very shortly.
It sounds like a great idea! Though the brothers don’t often put time aside for personal projects, I can see this being a weekend thing if either of them needs to take a break and recuperate from a hunting injury. They could even make some for the field burrow, supplies are always welcome there. And the littles living there are always up for a trade, especially with some of the stuff they craft themselves.
April 18th excerpt:
Later on, Bowman had to dodge a surprise projectile, a small ball of paper crumpled up and flicked at him by Dean, seeking a momentary reprieve from the constant tedium of research. Bowman, naturally, was easily riled up by this action and retaliated by retrieving the paper and lobbing it right back at the human, much to Jacob’s entertainment.
Sam rolled his eyes as Dean, a mischievous glint in his eyes, snatched the paper right out of the air, snapping it back at Bowman before the sprite had time to recover from his own throw. Bowman lucked out this time, the shot going wide and missing by a good few inches.
(( Back by popular demand! If you want to catch up on the storyline of these two brothers, check out the link!)
AU: Brothers Saved
Timeline: Sam is 10, Dean is 14
“Tell me everything.”
Dean sat close to the edge of the bed, far enough away to avoid the vertigo looking down had caused him moments ago but close enough to stare expectantly up at Sam.
Nothing in Dean’s voice gave away the fact that Sam towered over him while sitting.
Instead of sitting on the bed like his older brother, Sam leaned against it, putting his eyes only slightly above Dean’s head. There was nothing but concern in those hazel pools, and that alone told Dean how serious things were.
Normally there’d be teasing. Banter. Good-natured jibes between the brothers that came as naturally as the sun rose. Instead, the tension in the air between them was so thick it could be cut with a butter knife.
Sam took a deep breath to steel himself, the humid breeze washing over where Dean sat. Dean refused to let any of his trepidation show. He was the oldest, therefore it was his job to reassure Sam, not the other way around. There was nothing else to it. Dean had spent his entire life looking out for the kid; that wasn’t about to change just because he’d lost a few inches.
Okay, maybe more than a few, Dean admitted to himself like he would admit to no one else, watching Sam fidget in place. The kid could star in Godzilla vs Mothra if he wanted to. Still doesn’t change a thing.
“You… you jumped in front of her attack,” Sam said, softening his voice when he saw Dean flinch. “The room turned white, and when it stopped… you were gone.”
Dean frowned at that. His own recollection from before waking up on the pillow at a fraction of his height was sketchy at best, but that light– an all-encompassing illumination– had haunted his dreams until it became his entire world.
“Dad broke the door down, and everything got real crazy,” Sam went on, looking down. “Everything was loud, she was trying to stop him… and I saw you. Just lying on the floor, barely a scrap of cloth. I… I almost didn’t grab you. I didn’t know it was you until I saw your hair.”
“That’s over now,” Dean said sternly, drawing Sam’s eyes back up to himself. Those huge hazels locked on him, making him stiffen in place.
Dean did what he could to suppress that instinct. This was Sam. They were still brothers. From the look on Sam’s face, the last thing he had to worry about was being in any danger in that gaze.“Yeah,” Sam whispered. He took a deep, steadying breath and his voice was more solid as he continued. “When Dad hit her, her hold snapped, and I fell. I grabbed you, then Dad hauled me up and out of the room.”
Dean didn’t say a word, and he worked to keep any emotion from crossing his face, but he turned slightly ashen to hear how close it had come. Giants fighting, John tossing himself into the fray in his somewhat reckless manner– especially when it was Sam in danger.
“We didn’t think you’d wake,” Sam trailed off. His fidgeting resulted in a hand reaching for Dean, then jerking back like he’d been burned. Remembering Dean’s first reactions to him after waking.
Dean hauled himself to his feet, gesturing for Sam’s hand. Sam hesitated, then put it down next to him. Instead of just touching it with a hand, Dean decided to lean on the hand like it was an offered seat.
“I’m awake now,” Dean said, his tone kind for Sam. “You did what you had to do, and got me out of there. That’s what matters.”
A smile edged its way onto Sam’s face, and Dean knew he was getting through to him.
“Whatever happens, it happens to both of us,” Dean said firmly. A finger beneath him rose up, briefly nudging him off balance, but instead of falling over, Dean found himself sitting further on the back of Sam’s hand. He snorted, then laughed out loud at how ridiculous it was. Dean Winchester, sitting on a hand.
Sam joined in, his laugh deeper and more rumbling than it was before, but just as warm and kind.
As they tapered off, a different sound came, and Sam blinked in surprise.
Dean reddened, holding his stomach. “Do you have any food?” he asked weakly.
Sam’s eyebrows went up as he held in a grin. “Sure thing. Bobby’s got hot dogs in the kitchen,” then snickered.
Some things never changed.
( Original post )
This also brings into question if John Winchester would leave his boys a toy when he passes on…
Or is Dean full of bs?
April 17th excerpt:
The ride was uneventful. Jacob remained in Sam’s bag, finding it simpler than trying to climb out only to be rolled around in the pocket by every little movement. Despite feeling silly huddled in the satchel, he felt a lot more secure that way.
Even if it meant he was stuck on Sam’s lap while he dozed, fluffy brown bangs covering his eyes.
Brothers Apart 