It was unusual for Oscar to care about how much he overslept. His routine for his entire life had been to sleep when he was tired, and after helping Sam and Dean Winchester hunt down a demon, he’d gone to bed exhausted. The day before ran together in a long chain of scary events, many of which he’d witnessed from inside a pocket.
Oscar hadn’t yet had time to come to terms with everything, and he was already in the vents, wandering back toward that room. Back to the odd pair of brothers he’d befriended despite how crazy they could be.
If his memories were to be believed, their insanity had rubbed off on him.
In spite of himself, he was glad to hear a familiar gruff voice filtering into the air ducts. They were still there, even though he’d slept into the morning. He found that he wouldn’t even mind if breakfast was gone already. He could at least see them off before they left.
I got cling a couple times for Oscar, one by himself and another with another character that I will work on next. For now, have a cute little story that’s pretty much canon for Food and Monsters Oscar as well as Brothers Together Oscar and any au where he grows up in the Knight’s Inn motel.
Reading time: ~5 minutes
Oscar rarely had to improvise his hiding places like this. Normally, he made sure he took as few risks as he could, to avoid situations where he needed to. He trusted certain hiding places in the room every time: under the dresser, behind the nightstand, and, in a pinch, under a bed.
Just inside the cuff of a discarded sweater on the floor? He hated it.
His heart pounded as the floor shook. The human that stumbled around, occasionally grumbling with a headache, had come in the night before very drunk, and now he was paying for it. Oscar didn’t know what it felt like to be drunk or hungover, but from what he’d seen of the kinds of people that stayed in his motel, he wasn’t interested in finding out.
Usually they stayed asleep for much longer. Oscar had crept into the room in the dark well after the human flopped onto their bed, hoping to capitalize on the food spilled on the floor when they came in. They had never noticed that their takeout box didn’t land on the table when they put it down.
Of course, he couldn’t predict that they’d lurch off of the bed towards the bathroom. Oscar was lucky that the sweater was there while he stuffed his bag full of vegetables and pieces torn from a piece of soft bread.
He had to wait it out while the human figured out what they wanted to do, all from within the thick sleeve of the knit sweater. He counted their steps in the earthquakes and sighed. At least they weren’t cognizant enough to turn on the lights. He was out of sight.
The human knocked something over in the bathroom while they were in there. Oscar sighed heavily. Shampoo bottles, maybe an away kit or something like it, clattered to the floor. Then, following that, the ground shook all the way out into the motel room as the human dropped down to their knees to scrabble at the fallen items. In the dark.
This was an easier one. Oscar shimmied back out from his hiding place, peeking out across the floor just to be sure. He could see in the dark better than any drunk human could with the lights on.
With a huff, Oscar pulled himself the rest of the way out of the sleeve. He was glad no one had seen his startled dive.
Tufts of green fuzz from the sweater stuck to him. Oscar brushed them off and jogged towards the dresser. The human was muttering to themselves about how tough it was to find things in the dark. So far, they hadn’t thought to turn the light on and help their search along. Oscar let himself smile as he ducked out of sight and approached his wallpaper entrance to get into the walls.
He was halfway home before he noticed it. A tuft of green fuzz, the size of his head, clung to his shoulder. The static kept it there, but it was so light that he hadn’t noticed it. Oscar frowned and reached over to grab it. The static cling changed to his hand instead.
“Hey,” he muttered, shaking his hand vigorously. The fuzz moved to the back of his hand instead, resolutely sticking to him. Oscar huffed and stared at it as though it were a mischievous mouse pup. “Getoff.”
He grabbed the thing in his other hand and held it out in front of him, as far as his little arms could reach. When he let it go, it drifted downwards, but only for a second before veering back towards him. Oscar was startled, and he fell backwards in the dust.
The fuzz clung to his chest now.
Oscar pushed himself back up with a frown, and brushed the dust from his pants. The fuzz still clung to him. Static was powerful for someone so small. Trying to brush the thing down to the ground only got it stuck to his hand again, and shaking it off sent it drifting back to his side.
“You’re trouble,” he accused it in a hushed voice. Then, since it insisted on clinging to him despite all his efforts, Oscar continued on his way home.
Sam usually ignores Dean while they’re getting ready in the morning. Being guys, they don’t think anything of walking around with their shirts off (for a while Sam was self conscious of how thin he was, but he’s gotten much better with a steady diet, and figured Dean’s seen it all ever since he was injured in Taken). He’s well acquainted with many of Dean’s scars, especially the ones in his hands. Many of these might even be too small for Dean to realize he has, nicks and scrapes from repairing the Impala for all those years.
Keeping himself down below the level of the collar, Sam carefully put one foot in front of the other. The neckline of the shirt John was wearing under the jacket gave him a place to plant his boots, and all he had to do was not slip down the edge of the cliff John’s back became. Sam’s pulse quickened. Just like at home, he encouraged himself, calling to mind all the daredevil stunts he’d pulled on Dean over and over again.
After he reached the halfway point, Sam pushed himself off harder, clambering at last to John’s other shoulder.
That’s gotta tickle.
John did not expect
But the good doctor is not squirming.
Bonus excerpt:
John blinked when he felt Sam’s weight shift, what little he could make out of it. He seemed to be shuffling further back, and for a moment John worried that he was moving too fast or jostling the little fellow.
Sam’s intention became clear, however, as he moved across the back of his neck.
John’s shoulders tensed and tiny hairs stood on end as the younger Winchester’s tiny body brushed against them. Only when Sam made it safely to the other side did John remember to breathe. He doubted he would ever truly be used to any of this. Not like they teach you how to handle interacting with tiny people…
Dean held Sam close to him, looking up at the woman with dried tears clinging to his eyelashes. Twenty-four hours. Just twenty-four hours since they’d woken up like this, and there was a small light in the dark.
He couldn’t quite remember everything. It was all a blur before waking up in the hot, humid darkness. A woman, breaking into their room and attacking them. Dean could do nothing to keep her from his little brother. She’d pinned him effortlessly to the wall, without once touching him, forcing him to watch his little brother vanish into a white light.
And then doing the same for him, the world going black as the white light surrounded him.
Now, they’d escaped from her, but nothing was the way they remembered.
Motel rooms were larger than sweeping cathedrals. A football stadium could fit on the two beds. People were giants, the remote for the TV was unmovable, and Dean was scared.
Nothing, not his dad’s training, not Bobby’s stories, nothing, could have prepared him for this.
The woman stared down at him, her eyes widening in slight surprise. Dean could see so much detail in her face, he knew the moment her pupils dilated. He could smell the sickly-sweet scent of wine on her breath when her mouth parted.
That was all the warning they got.
Her hand swept out, long fingers curling around the two tiny children. Sam cried out in surprise as Dean did his best to block her attack, but standing under four inches tall meant there was no way for him to stop her.
A fist closed harshly around them, and Sam’s cries went from surprised to pained, and then stopped.
Dean sucked in a breath as the motel room nightstand vanished under their feet, the height forgotten in the wake of worry for his brother.
What did she do to Sammy?
“Please,” Dean begged. “We just need help…”
She lifted them up, her hand opening when held in front of her eyes. There was no warmth in those eyes as she scanned every one of the brothers’ very few inches.
“Wonderful…” she breathed, that sickly smell hitting Dean in a wave. He almost retched.
Containing his reaction, Dean glared at the woman as he cradled his brother in his arms. “What did you do?” he shouted angrily, Sam’s arm limp and hanging from the socket in an unnatural position.
“Sweetie,” she said in a condescending voice, “you’re just a toy. A possession. You should remember that the next time you talk back.”
She turned from the nightstand, the long fingers curling around the two boys as she rifled through the pockets of a jacket and withdrew a phone. A red-painted fingernail winked in the light at them as it tapped out a message.
Keeping himself down below the level of the collar, Sam carefully put one foot in front of the other. The neckline of the shirt John was wearing under the jacket gave him a place to plant his boots, and all he had to do was not slip down the edge of the cliff John’s back became. Sam’s pulse quickened. Just like at home, he encouraged himself, calling to mind all the daredevil stunts he’d pulled on Dean over and over again.
After he reached the halfway point, Sam pushed himself off harder, clambering at last to John’s other shoulder.
While Sam climbed his way back up Jacob’s arm, Dean paused and pulled Melanie into one last hug. He held her against his chest. “If we ever pass by this way, maybe I’ll have Jacob drop me off in the area,” he said with a wink. “I can check up and make sure you didn’t get into any trouble.”
Melanie’s smile was shy again and there was some pink in her cheeks. “I’d like that,” she told him, her fingers curling slowly around the lapel of his leather jacket. She had to push herself up on her tiptoes to claim one more kiss before he had to leave.
The small pair on the floor drew out their last kiss, enjoying one final embrace. Melanie’s slight form fit into Dean’s arms perfectly, filling in the emptiness in his center that had been there for a decade. He pulled away from her slightly so he could drink in her beauty one last time, brushing a thumb that was callused from years of climbing over her bottom lip.
“See you around, sweetheart,” he said softly as he straightened. It put him out of easy reach for her, his own natural height showing up for one of the first times in years.
The next contest will be held in January 2017, and I am looking forward to it so much! Everyone is welcome to participate, and I will be bouncing with anticipation!
Dean Winchester attempting to make a tiny hamburger. I read the prompt and I just had to draw this, and let me practice drawing on my new tablet. @brothersapart@nightmares06
Brothers Apart 