Oscar couldn’t sleep. He had a huge pillow to rest on and a warm shirt to curl up in, but his attention was focused away from them. At night, sometimes, he was up and about searching for food, after all. He was used to sleeping when he was tired, and at the moment he wasn’t tired.
He sat up on the pillow with his legs stretched out in front of himself and his hands braced on the plushy surface beneath him. Nearby, he could hear the quiet pattern of Sam breathing, sprawled under the shirt-blanket. Sam was a little more used to sleeping every night, or most every night.
Dean’s breathing was much easier to hear. His huge lungs were bigger than Oscar’s home in the walls. Probably. Those breaths created little breezes back and forth over the pillow, with the way Dean had hugged it protectively close. Oscar had stayed in the big motel room more and more often as the days wore by. He spent so much time with his friends, and couldn’t be happier.
It wasn’t doubt or even fear for the big, wide open room that kept Oscar awake now. For once, his reason was peaceful and without worry. He stared at the window of the motel room, where the edge of a curtain had gotten caught in just away that left it hanging open a few inches.
To someone who barely stood over two inches tall, it was a wide break in the fabric indeed. Oscar stared at the sky beyond that window in awe. The streetlamp outside had flickered out earlier, and after that, Oscar couldn’t look away.
Oscar could see the stars out there.
Little twinkling lights seemed to peek back at him. Oscar had only ever seen the daytime sky with them, so far. By the time night fell, they were always safely back in the room to watch TV or run and play (sometimes with Dean trying to catch Sam and Oscar as they laughed and scurried away).
Oscar sighed contentedly and lay back down to draw some of the shirt over himself. He curled up, but made sure he could still see that small space between the curtains. He fell asleep watching the stars for the first time in his life.
Set in the Brothers Together au created with @nightmares06. Oscar is about 12 in this one.
Oscar didn’t fully understand it, but every once in a while the office staff would decorate the lobby of the motel. He vaguely remembered his mom telling him that the humans had special days that they liked to celebrate every year. Since he didn’t have a calendar (and could barely make sense of one anyway), he was still learning when to anticipate these days.
He watched surreptitiously from a vent as one of the older staff members, a lady with hearing problems and a frown stuck in the wrinkles on her face, trudged around the room. Despite her scowly appearance, she seemed pleasant to every person that came in and Oscar knew her voice well. It was softer than it looked like it should be, and she talked about her grandchildren to whomever would listen.
He sometimes wished he had a grandmother like her. Someone that could take care of him since he didn’t have anyone at all. He was twelve years old and it had been four years since he had warm food.
At least Oscar remembered that he was supposed to check the office sometimes, make sure they weren’t planning any pest control or something. That was how he’d found the woman in the lobby, frowning around absently and hanging paper shapes from the ceiling or taping them to the walls.
They were pumpkins with scary faces or black bats with fanged grins. Some of the shapes were stylized pictures of wrapped candies. Oscar knew this one. He frowned thoughtfully and tried to remember the word.
One of the maids came into the room to duck behind the front desk and find something back there. She grinned at the shapes already hung up. “Getting ready for Halloween?” she asked.
Aha! Oscar thought with a faint smile. While the ladies struck up a conversation, he inched back away from the vent. He had seen what he needed to, and he needed to focus on seeking out food now.
‘Halloween’ was a strange holiday for the humans. Oscar didn’t know what it was for, but he never questioned it, because a lot of times people had late nights away from their bed. Seeking food was easier. It also meant that the one they called ‘Thanksgiving’ was coming up, and after that was ‘Christmas.’ Lots of people drifted through and dropped more crumbs than usual.
Oscar didn’t celebrate the holidays the same way humans did, but they were worth looking forward to in his own way. Anything that made his life easier was to be celebrated.
He ventured into the dark with silent steps and found himself drifting back in memories again. He wondered with a peaceful acceptance if his friends were out there somewhere, excited to do whatever it was humans did on Halloween and Thanksgiving and Christmas. Like he often did, he imagined finding Sam around the corner, beckoning him to hurry back to the room, inviting him to join Sam and Dean for their celebration this year.
Come on, Oz, Dean’s already started! Sam said in his imagination.
Oscar smiled and walked faster, even though he didn’t really have anywhere to go. It was nice to imagine, though. He knew that this Halloween wouldn’t be any different than any of his other Halloweens, or any in the future. Oscar was there to stay.
He could still celebrate. He had his memories to keep him company.
Unfortunately, you won’t be seeing the giant Jacob story in the poll for some time.
For personal reasons, I will never start posting a story that’s unfinished. We are currently in the process of writing the story, and then it will need to be edited and beta’d by one of our wonderful beta readers. Your patience will be rewarded, and while my OCD and attempt at perfectionism may seem annoying when I won’t post stories instantly, you will get a fuller and richer story when it’s completed to our liking.
The poll came about because when we originally were going to start posting the AUs, we discovered that both of us, night and neon, have our own favorite AU. We couldn’t decide which one to post.
So I came up with the idea to toss the story names at our loyal readers and let them decide. This way, the choosing of the new story is fair to everyone, including us. I thought it would be a fun way to get everyone involved in the process. This way, we don’t have one story, say Brothers Found, dominating so that the people looking forward to Brothers Adopted have to wait a year to get their story.
It’s nice to get all this feedback and see the hate my great idea is getting.
We will either do the blind poll like I want to do, or I’ll go back to choosing the stories myself. Those are the only two choices. As one person once said to me, we’re giving you free, quality content either way, and it would be nice to see some appreciation to the work I put into this.
From Neon:
Just to clear something up about “the point of the poll,” since that’s gotten some questions before. It’s meant to be a fun way to sort of randomize which of the ready stories gets posted, since, as night mentioned, there could be favoritism edging certain AUs out without them getting a chance. It is not a tool to definitively decide which AU is the most popular.
Gotta give ‘em all a chance! The poll is harmless fun and, regardless, you’re getting 3 updates a week! We put a lot of work into this stuff. We’re not paid enough to get heckled this much about our methods of content delivery.
“Oscar,” Jacob repeated. The shift in the tension in the air was palpable. Even though the little guy was curled up warily on the table, getting a name out of him felt like a step forward. A tiny step forward, but it was better than watching him cry and not knowing if he was hurt. Knowing he caused those tears had sent Jacob reeling.
“I’m Jacob,” he replied, allowing the faintest smile to cross his face. “Where, um, where did you come from, Oscar?”
Oscar shrugged, the tiniest little shoulders Jacob had ever seen, and wiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I always lived here,” he replied. His voice was still rough from his crying, but it wavered less than before.
“And you came to get food,” Jacob mused. Holy shit. He couldn’t help but think of how desperate Oscar must have been to climb his backpack for food, if someone Jacob’s size inspired this much terror. Was the little guy living out of that bag with nothing else to his name?
Jacob smirked at the sight of Sam’s slow waking. The sluggish movements and lack of much concern was a huge contrast to what Jacob had grown used to in the last few weeks. No one else sat still when he was so close, so he never really had much chance to see their various actions in miniature. Delicate little hands and arms (that he had to remind himself were actually just normal) moved about with so much dexterity that he’d miss it if he didn’t pay attention.
Then, he glanced back to Dean. One hand reached down and gently nudged at the quarter sticking out of Dean’s bag again. “You’ve got a lot to carry back and it’s a bit of a hike,” he pointed out. “You want me to get you there?”
Dean put his hand protectively over his duffel bag, giving the huge hand that hovered nearby a mistrustful look, wondering if Jacob was going to pluck the coin away. “It’s not as heavy as it looks…” he countered slowly.
This prompt takes place between the events of Taken and Schism, while Sam’s arm was healing and Dean stayed at the motel for three months (a record, for Trails West ).
It was late, but Krissy found herself wandering the passageways and vents in the walls on her own.
Normally, she would wait until someone else was willing to go. She didn’t like to venture close to the human rooms on her own. Lessons drilled into her mind from her father and her mother, back in those happy years before everything had changed, taught her the dangers of humanity.
Those lessons stuck fast after her father was gone, and her mother withdrew from the world, leaving Krissy and her young brother Bennett to fend for themselves.
Walt was amazing. He’d come to live with them after Krissy had dragged him out of the ash herself, saving his life as he’d saved theirs since. He helped find enough food for everyone to eat, brought home more supplies than Krissy ever dreamed of finding on her own now that her best friend Sam was gone.
Of course, Sam was back now, along with his older brother.
Dean.
No one had ever expected them to reappear, Krissy least of all. She knew Walt had hoped to see his erstwhile adopted son again, but those were dreams and fantasies best left to musings. Sam appearing on her doorstep had been the last thing she’d ever expected.
And so she wandered, and wondered.
Sam’s arm was broken, so he was staying in the walls with them until he healed. She’d noticed a nervousness about him that hadn’t been there when he left with Dean. It wasn’t hard to figure out that his recent injury had forced him to confront truths better left to the subconscious.
He was afraid, just like her.
Krissy paused at the slits of a vent, drawn to the light. She knew what room she was over, and only just managed to get herself close enough to see out. She didn’t want to risk the human glancing up and seeing her.
The large hunter was sprawled out on his bed. The television was on in the background, but the sound was turned off. In his hand was curled what she’d heard called a… ‘music player,’ or an ‘iPod.’
Humans sure had strange names for things.
Dean was wearing earbuds, so Krissy let her guard relax a little. She could hear the music, a soft rock that Sam had talked about while they were growing up, leaking from the buds. He’d never hear her with those on. Even a hunter’s senses could be dampened down.
For a moment, she stared at him, trying to imagine him standing at the same height as Sam. He didn’t look that scary, not laying on the bed, his eyes closed and his face so peaceful. Kara talked about him nonstop, and for a moment Krissy could see it.
Then her phobia caught up to her and she stumbled away from the edge of the vent. The soft music vanished, and her breath caught as she realized he might have heard that.
“Sam?” came a deep call, a hopeful note resounding in it. For over three weeks Sam had been in the motel, and Krissy knew that he hadn’t gone back to see Dean yet.
She slowed her breathing and pulled herself out of sight around a corner. A shadow dampened the light, and she covered her mouth.
“Sammy? That you? I’ve got some salad, if you wanted to come visit…” Dean’s voice trailed off, sounding forlorn and lost. Krissy had to blink back surprise at that.
The light came back, and she heard the human stomping away.
Maybe she’d see how Sam was feeling. Human or not, Dean sounded lonely. No one deserved to be forgotten like that.
This became an interesting exercise and a moment I’ve thought about many times.
The burrow was dark, calm.
In the largest room, the two sentries kept watch. One would occasionally add to the pit of coals, stirring it around with a large stick to keep them from going out. The other paced from the front entrance, which looked out on the field they lived in, all the way to the back entrance, where the creek trickled peacefully by.
Nets, woven by the women, were left in the water. They would be checked first thing in the morning for any minnows that might have found their way into their clutches. The fish would be descaled and would become their meal for the next day. If they caught enough, they might even be able to make fish stew, a staple down in the burrow.
Arthur, the erstwhile leader of the tiny community that lived under the ground in the warrens and tunnels they’d both found and built themselves, slept peacefully through the night.
His young daughter, Alyssa, slept in one of the nearby rooms that branched off of his. She was almost thirteen now, and itched to live in a place of her own like the others. His rule was she had to wait until she was at least fourteen. He didn’t want his only living relation to be too far from him, even in their safe world.
So late that night it was almost morning, there was a rumble overhead. Arthur sat bolt upright, his eyes going straight to the ceiling as dirt and debris rained down on him.
Something was happening.
As he tore out of his home, he shouted to Alyssa, “Stay down here! Don’t come up until we send the signal everything is safe!” She covered her mouth, her green eyes watery from the combination of sleep and fear that hit her.
He reached the top, and one of the wooden spears they sharpened up for protection was thrown to him. Arthur was as prepared as anyone to protect their home, and he caught it with the ease of long years, following the others to the main entrance.
Loud barks drowned out the rumbles, and Arthur and the others skid to a halt at the sight before their eyes.
The new dog that lived up at the House they’d come from was there, but he wasn’t the source of the angry snarls and scratch marks that marred the entrance. The massive black Rottweiler was holding another animal pinned to the ground, a raccoon whose dexterous claws could reach into the burrow and pull people out to snack on if they happened too close to an entrance while it was around.
With a resounding growl, the dog bared its teeth. They sealed around the raccoon’s throat, and ended the threat.
Even Arthur, with long years and harsh days behind him already, had to look away. The dog didn’t leave the corpse there, sitting on their front doorstep. It pulled the raccoon away, and vanished into the stalks of grass.
Long moments passed, and Arthur waited with the sentries and defenders. His arms shook, knowing they were helpless if the dog came back and wanted to dig up their home.
Ten long, arduous minutes passed before they heard anything else. Panting, the dog trotted up out of the grass. Arthur snapped his spear up, holding it defensively in front of him. The others followed suit.
Instead of an attack, the dog sniffed towards the entrance and let out a long, whining growl. It stretched out on its belly, expressive brown eyes blinking at the people guarding their home.
“I don’t believe it,” Arthur heard a voice say, and was shocked to find it was his own.
His spear dropping to the ground, he found himself taking a step forward.
“Arthur, get back here!” one of the others snapped, and he recognized Neera’s voice.
He waved her off.
The dog simply watched his approach, nose twitching as he came in range. He held up his hands. “Thank you for saving us,” Arthur enunciated carefully, laying a hand on the dog’s snout.
The chocolate brown eyes closed, and to his surprise, the dog let out a moan of contentment. Arthur’s face split into a grin, and he rubbed the fur with greater abandon, thanking their protector.
And so Arthur and his people adopted Rumsfeld much the same way as Rumsfeld adopted them.
Remember, the horror story is the third installment of Brothers Found! You won’t be able to read it until the first two stories are finished up. I know for a fact that the Jacob in that story is crossing his fingers that Brothers Adopted gets voted in first. He does not like this story.
We decided to leave it as a blind poll to avoid one of the AUs being chosen over the others. We know a lot of you are excited out there for Brothers Adopted or Brothers Found, and we don’t want anyone to feel left out by only one of those AUs being voted in! During the next poll we’ll also add in two more stories we’ve finished editing, to toss things up a little.
Chasing Family
Family Ties
????????????
????????????
And remember, just because you think a story is a part of a certain AU doesn’t mean it’s going to be the story you were hoping for! Careful in your guesses!
Brothers Apart 