March 1st excerpt:
“The Winchesters will raise questions if anyone sees them and realizes who they are.”
There was a click, then a dial tone filled the air. Dean stomped on the END button with his boot, for once having nothing to say to the last statement. Even Sam was quiet where he was sitting on the edge of the laptop.
Jacob pursed his lips, letting Bobby’s words sink in. He hadn’t considered other humans, especially hunters, finding out about Sam and Dean if they went to Bobby’s again.
Oh, I love this prompt! It’s adorable and it is something I’ve mused about here and there but not nearly enough.
To answer the question, no, Jacob doesn’t play any instruments. He’s definitely more of a sporty guy, and he is on his high school’s boxing team. The guy’s definitely not one to tussle with. Though now that you mention it, I could see him toting around one of those huge sousaphones. XD
Note: Long-ish post. A little over 1000 words of drabble.
Human Music
Canon: Yes
Taking place the spring after the events of Bowman of Wellwood
The calm afternoon brought a feeling of peace that Jacob rarely experienced back home. It wasn’t that home was stressful or hectic. But out in the woods, with the sun shining on the clearing and the leaves rustling in the breeze, Jacob knew an entirely different sort of serenity.
For the most part. A shifting around on his head reminded him that normally, someone might be scolding his ear right off right now. He was careful not to tilt his head while he read the book in his lap. It could make Bowman fall off, and then he’d have to take out the earbuds connected to his iPod to hear him gripe.
The wood sprite was stretched out on his hair, basking in the warm sunlight that shone down on them. Wide, leafy green wings spread out and draped partially over the side of Jacob’s head, and the sensation nearly tickled him. Not enough to complain, but enough to know his tiny, four inch tall friend was there.
Many of his visits ended up like this. He would come out to the forest to see Bowman, and they’d mill around in the woods for a time. Bowman would tell Jacob about goings-on in the village, and Jacob would explain some new human thing to Bowman. There was never an end to the questions Bowman threw his way.
Unless, of course, he decided to catch some sunlight and some Z’s while lounging on Jacob’s head.
Jacob didn’t mind these moments of quiet. He’d visited several times since the previous Summer and had become good friends with Bowman, despite all the griping and scolding. Theirs was an interesting friendship, one that had seen Bowman bop Jacob right on the forehead more than once. His reasons were many, and Jacob stopped trying to find a pattern long ago.
One pattern he knew for sure he could count on, though, was that Bowman’s stirring on his head meant that soon more questions would likely spring forth. Bowman was stretching his little arms and legs, and even his wings twitched and fluttered, signaling his battle with the sleepy, trance-like state that sunning always put him in.
Jacob found a stopping point and closed his book before pulling his earbuds out one at a time and reaching for his hoodie pocket to shut off the music player.
“Waitasecond,” Bowman interrupted. Jacob turned his eyes upwards, but didn’t move his head. Of course, he still couldn’t see the sprite sitting up there, but he was paying as much attention as he could, all things considered.
“What? I didn’t move,” Jacob said, a smile leaking onto his face despite the indignant protest.
“No, giant, you’re always moving, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” Bowman scooted forward. Jacob could feel him army-crawling closer to his forehead and waited.
Sure enough, a leafy green wing reached into view, the outermost finger pointing vaguely towards the earbuds in Jacob’s hand. “What’re those things? Why do you stick them in your ears? Are they just supposed to block things out so you can concentrate?”
The curiosity had returned. Jacob smiled and drew out his iPod, pausing the music, and held it up to show Bowman. “I listen to music with them. They’re connected to this thing, and it sends the music to these earbuds here, and they play music.”
Bowman scoffed. “How does that thing play music? It doesn’t even look like it’d make a good drum!”
Jacob had to chuckle, which of course caused his head to shake. Bowman grumbled one of his choice sprite swears and pushed himself to a stand before fluttering off of Jacob’s head. He landed on the hand that held the iPod, and Jacob angled it so that he wouldn’t throw the little guy off balance.
“You’re telling me that this thing plays music,” Bowman said skeptically. The older model iPod was almost as tall as he was, and much wider. It was definitely heavier. “No way.”
Jacob smirked. “It’s not an instrument itself. It just stores the music as a recording. You remember when I explained recordings to you, right?” Bowman paused, then nodded. “So this thing is just full of recordings of music. I like to listen while I read.”
Bowman paused to take it all in before nodding and deciding that it was acceptable. His wings twitched and he looked back at the music player curiously. “Lemme hear some of your human music!” he demanded, an almost excited curiosity overtaking his expression. He twisted around to look at Jacob eagerly.
Jacob grinned. Bowman’s reaction to the music should be entertaining. “Alright. Just hold these,” he replied, placing the earbuds in Bowman’s arms.
It was a show all on its own to watch Bowman fumble them before tentatively holding them up to his ears. He frowned skeptically. “I don’t hear anything!”
“I haven’t started anything, you dork,” Jacob shot back, reaching past Bowman with his thumb to press Play on the iPod.
Bowman jolted as the brass instruments of a ska band blared out of the earbuds, and his eyes were wide as he listened. Jacob didn’t have the volume up high enough to hear it himself, but he could follow along well enough just knowing what song was playing. Bowman’s bright green eyes were wide and his wings flexed open and closed ceaselessly.
“How do they make those noises?! Why is he singing so fast? I can’t understand … this music makes no sense at all!” Bowman’s assessment made Jacob chuckle and he paused the music. Bowman sighed.
“Maybe I have something a bit more chill,” Jacob suggested. He got an exasperated look from Bowman, but noticed that the sprite hadn’t put down the earbuds yet, so he must be curious. He scrolled through his song list for a soft rock song instead.
This one seemed to go over much better with Bowman. Instead of getting agitated almost immediately, he looked confused, no doubt trying to identify the sounds of a guitar while he listened. He swayed a little in time with the song before glancing up at Jacob.
“All the words humans put to their music are so stupid. But otherwise it sounds interesting,” he determined. Jacob paused the song, increasingly amused by the way Bowman yelled his opinions to be heard over the music blaring in his little ears.
“Glad you approve,” Jacob answered wryly.
“I wanna hear more,” Bowman blurted, staring expectantly up at Jacob. That wide eyed curiosity was free of his usual snark, and Jacob only saw a will to learn more despite the complaints. He couldn’t say no to that.
“Okay, lemme see if I have something orchestral, we’ll see what you think of that…”
February 29th excerpt:
A loud click sounded over the line, and a familiar gruff voice spoke up. “Who in hell’s name is this? ”
Dean winced, but before he could muster up the courage to interrupt the hunter, Bobby went on. “You should not have this…”
Sam jumped in, saving his older brother from the scolding. “Bobby! It’s us! We, ah… we’ve got a small problem.”
There was a long pause on the other end, then a sigh. “What kind of problem? ”
Jacob Andris (OC by
neonthewrite) and tiny Dean Winchester
Commission made for nightmares06 for her fanfic that is coming soon! [sneak peeks 1 2]
( Presenting a never before seen flashback all the way from the first week after Dean discovering Sam in Brothers Apart! )
There is a flash of boots coming straight at him, and Sam dives out of the way.
It is an instinctive, unthinking reaction to the sight of those massive leather structures that move under the control of the humans that share the world with people his size. “Borrowers,” Dean calls them, no matter how many times Sam argues against it.
He has only been traveling with his brother for two days and so is not adjusted to having a person so large around.
Sam hits the ground and rolls under the bed. It is an area that gives him more safety than the wide open area of the rest of the motel room. Dean doesn’t understand this yet, because he can’t see things the way Sam does.
He can’t see the way he towers over the entire room. He doesn’t understand the fear lurking in Sam that one of those massive hands will shoot towards the smaller hunter-in-training and trap him against his will.
It is these thoughts that Sam always has in mind. They plague him every day. After all, within the week Dean has grabbed him against his will not once, but twice.
The first time was no one’s fault. Dean hadn’t known it was Sam he was stalking in his motel room any more than Sam had known Dean was the human stalking him.
The second time was on purpose for Dean, but unexpected once more for Sam. It was a demonstration of why Sam couldn’t let his guard down, even with Dean.
It saddens him to think how dangerous his own older brother could be, just because of a curse that struck when they were children. They were so close back then.
Sometimes Sam wonders what would have happened to them if Dean had been struck by the curse as well. Or if the witch had chosen to strike at the older Winchester in the moment before their dad busted down the door.
The boots hesitate where they’d stopped. The weight on them shifts, and Sam sees a huge knee drop down from above to press into the ground.
Dean is kneeling.
It awes Sam to consider just how much power his older brother has grown into as an adult. And not just in comparison to Sam. The older Winchester goes head to head with monsters on a regular basis and always comes out on top. There are scars from these fights, scars that Sam can see better than anyone else, but still Dean lives to fight on.
Sam scrambles to his feet as kind green eyes dip down into view and Dean peers under the bed to look for him. Guilt covers the hunter’s face at the way his little brother has run from him.
Sam’s chest continues to heave from the brief scare when the green eyes land on him at last, and this makes Dean’s face soften even more. There aren’t many things that can break the stern facade that Dean Winchester keeps around him, but his little brother so afraid is one of them.
“Sammy,” he says, his voice a soft thunder of concern. “You know…” He has to pause and clear his throat. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he switches track smoothly. “You know I can see you on the ground, right? I’m not about to step on my baby brother.”
The desperate apology in those eyes surprises Sam. He never means to make Dean feel that way. It was simply a reaction, one that was instinctive when dealing with people that towered over his head and he was small enough to get pinned to the ground by a single finger.
Compared to a human, he is small and weak.
Sam wishes he can make Dean understand it isn’t his fault. It never will be. And so he tries.
First, he steps out from under cover. The safety of the bed is deceptive, anyway. The mattress can be lifted by a human like Dean without a problem. One of those hands can shoot out to grab him where he hides. More vulnerability for Sam.
Dean’s eyes track Sam’s movements, but he doesn’t make a move. It doesn’t help that whenever Dean moves, Sam flinches. Because of this, the hunter is already learning to restrain unnecessary movements.
The necessity saddens Sam.
His brother shouldn’t have to change who he is if he wants to be around his little brother without getting flinches or fear in return.
“I-I know you’re not,” Sam manages to get out as he stares up at Dean. The older hunter has flattened himself against the dusty rug so they can talk and his eyes are still above Sam’s head. Dean could put his chin against the ground and it would be the same.
Sam was too small.
“It’s just…” Sam waves his hand at the open area between the beds, trying to ignore how small it looks in comparison to his surroundings. For so long, he lived in the walls and with people his own size. Now, he is with Dean constantly, and reminded of his curse every single moment.
“You’re really big,” Sam finishes lamely, wishing he had the words.
Dean’s lips thin to a line, and Sam feels tension start to wind up his back. The sight of a giant with an intense glare like that on his face is not easy to take in at four inches in height. Dean doesn’t mean it, but his size gets in the way of an innocent look.
“Sam,” Dean said, “I know you have to be careful. I just want you to know… I won’t forget you’re here. You deserve to be able to live without being afraid all the time. I… I want to help.”
This time, it is Sam’s face that softens. He takes another step out into the open, this time completely away from the cover of the bed. “I know you do.”
He rests his small arm on one of Dean’s massive hands and uses it to lean on. That huge hand could spring up at any time and coil completely around his body.
But it doesn’t, and it won’t, and Sam knows this.
“Just watch where you toss your dirty socks,” Sam snarks up at his brother, feeling the last of the tension sloughing off at the return of their normal banter. Moments like this were when he barely even felt the size difference, and it was good. “I don’t need the nightstand smelling like dirty feet all night.” He wrinkles his nose and is rewarded with a chuckle from Dean.
No matter how different, they will always be brothers.
Which is probably why Sam finds a dirty sock lurking outside of the nightstand the next morning.
February 28th excerpt:
Before his hands even cleared the screen, Sam was on the keyboard, pacing back and forth as he tapped in the password they’d helped Jacob pick. The password was chosen specifically to be hard to crack, and so that two guys that couldn’t reach from one end of the keyboard to the other could type it in without help.
In other words, Jacob and Dean let Sam come up with the passwords.
Sam wakes as the Impala comes to a stop outside of a new motel. He mumbles to himself, sitting up on the weird surface he was resting on. Wait… It isn’t just any surface he’s sitting on, it’s a shoulder. A human’s shoulder.
He freezes for a few seconds of fear before he remembers everything that happened… losing his family… agreeing – no, asking – to go with Dean to get the bastard that had killed them.
He is sleeping on his brother’s shoulder.
With this realization, Sam glances above his head. He can see the profile of Dean’s face staring out of the car as he turns the Impala off. From where he is sitting, Sam can only make out the corner of his brother’s eye, and the underside of his jaw. Sam sighs briefly at the reminder of his situation.
For years, he’s been used to living this way, smaller than a mouse, with a family that cared for him. Living like that, he’s only been occasionally reminded of what he’s lost. His daily supply runs into the motel they lived in had been the only reminders back then. But here he is, forced to confront everything he’d lost. His own brother serving as a constant reminder of his curse.
Sam is shaken from his thoughts when Dean suddenly opens up the car door and stands to his full height without warning. Sam clutches the collar of Dean’s shirt to avoid falling. He really isn’t going to get used to his brother’s immense height. It was like trying to sit on Godzilla’s shoulder. “Dean, wait!” he shouts up, surprised.
At least this Godzilla would listen to him.
Dean tilts his head, trying to catch a glimpse of Sam. “Sorry ‘bout that, Sammy. Forgot you were there.”
Sam’s breath hitches with fear at the accidental reminder of his insignificance. A huge hand reaches up, stopping right next to the shoulder. Sam stares at it for a few moments before Dean tries to get another look at him. “You’re not planning on sitting there while I check into the motel, are you?” Dean asks jokingly. His deep voice rumbles kindly around Sam, reminding him that he’s safe.
“No, no of course not!” Sam manages. That would mean other humans seeing him. Tremulously, he steps onto the huge palm, feeling the muscles twitch under his weight. It is going to be hard to adjust to sitting in a hand bigger than his entire body. As he sits there, he brushes a hand over Dean’s silver ring, wondering at the size. He can remember rings fitting in the palm of his hand, but this one is huge and thick, reflecting his image back at him. He imagines it must be wide enough for him to use as a belt now. And it fits around Dean’s finger.
The fingers shift around Sam as Dean brings the hand in front of his face. Sam freezes as soon as the big green eyes fall on him, not prepared for such an intense stare. “You mind hanging out in the pocket while I check in?” Dean asks.
“Uuhh…” Sam says nervously. “Sure, I guess.” His eyes snap down to the pocket, resting innocently against Dean’s chest. It was unreal to actually consider going in there. Humans were dangerous to people like him, yet here Sam was, perfectly safe…
Even welcomed.
The hand lowers down, coming to a rest right next to the pocket. Sam gives a slight jump when Dean’s other hand rises up, but all it does is pinch open the pocket so he can jump right in. Which he does without delay, coming to a stop at the bottom.
His head jerks up the second he lands. The pocket is almost the same height as him. If he stands he’d just barely be able to peek out.
While he gets settled, the light from above disappears. Sam glances up to see the flap of the pocket as it drops down, blocking the outside world from sight. Something huge brushes against him from the outside, making Sam jolt away in surprise until he realizes it’s just Dean’s hand. You’re safe…. it’s just Dean. He’s not gonna hurt you… he’d never hurt you…
“You alright in there, Sammy?” comes Dean’s deep voice, even more intense from how close Sam was sitting to his vocal cords.
Sam takes a second to calm himself before answering Dean. “Y-yeah, I’m good!” he calls up. He presses his hand against the outside of the pocket and touches Dean’s hand to reassure himself. And to reassure Dean.
“Well then, sit tight, kiddo. Try not to move around too much. I don’t want anyone picking up on you in here. We need to keep you off the radar.”
“Got it.” Sam pulls his legs against his chest to make himself as small as possible. Without warning, Dean’s ambling stride starts up. The swaying steps swing the pocket gently, rocking the small Winchester like a hammock. Sam isn’t bothered when it bumps into the broad chest behind him. It’s reassuring to be with Dean now. Reassuring to be with his family.
Sam slowly relaxes. He’s safe and that’s all that matters. This is where he’s meant to be.
This is home.
Just wanted to keep everyone updated on what’s going on, now that I’m recovered enough from work to think straight!
@neonthewrite was kind enough to help update the blog so the actual stories are easier to find, at least on the web browser version (the tumblr app hates edits). So if you visit http://brothersapart.tumblr.com/, you’ll see links at the top of the page. The Stories takes you to links to all of what’s up so far. Brothers Apart is on the main page, and you can swap to Brothers Together and Prompts if you click those names at the top. More will be added as other AU’s are released. 🙂
The last flashback that appeared in the stories posts later today, and tomorrow you’ll get to see a never-before-released flashback! Revisit Sam and Dean the first week they were getting to know each other after being reunited.
Another thing tomorrow is a new commission from Brothers Lost will be shown. I’m most excited for this AU. As much as I love them all, I just can’t get enough of the cursed bros.
Lastly, when Salt Lines and Lich are complete, there will only be one story posting at a time. I know this means that Brothers Apart will not be posting for the first time in years, but there’s personal reasons for this. It’s become harder to write as the storyline gets coiled around, and I’m working on getting my inspiration back for it. Hopefully writing out that flashback helped a little since it was the first of Brothers Apart I’ve written since before Christmas. There’s plenty of plans in motion for it, they must now make it onto the paper.
And as always..
February 27th excerpt:
The walls closed around their heads again, and the tension left Dean’s shoulders. Sam lead the way back to their place, and Dean awkwardly picked up the phone, doing his best to not run into the walls with the way it offset his balance.
Sam leaned against the block that covered the door, hefting it aside and giving Dean space to sidle in the small nook with the phone.
Dean managed to dump the phone on the ground with a facsimile of grace, brushing his hands off. “There we go!” he declared. “Easy as pie.”
( This is my entry for the @brothersapart 2016 Contest:http://brothersapart.tumblr.com/post/136391836334/brothers-apart-contest-2016 . Enjoy! )
“When is she gonna wake up?” Ziana asked. The white bandage on Shay’s arm was remarkably cleaner than the improvised scrap of cloth she had worn the past couple days. Ziana’s stomach still churned at the thought of the wound itself, but the fresh wrapping gave her hope that it was on its way to healing.
“Hard to say,” Dean said, standing by the bed and inadvertently towering over the three smaller people.
Ziana tried to not to look directly at him. It had been hard enough to face him while she was on the desk and she could only see his torso. To occupy herself, she set the handmade ice packs on Shay’s stomach for the time being and started to scoop Shay into her arms.
Dean’s voice rumbled through the air again, prompting Ziana to freeze. “Hey, what’re you doing?”
Gathering her nerves, Ziana looked up. He hadn’t grabbed her again since the first time. He had even been rather patient with her hesitation when he had to transport her back to the bed.
Since she had already gotten away with yelling at him, she figured there was no harm in speaking freely. “I’m taking her home,” she answered. “You helped her, and… Thanks for that. But I saw you packing up earlier. Well, I don’t want to be around when the maids show up, so me and her need to be outta here.”
The bedspread had some give under Ziana’s feet, so standing with Shay in her arms nearly made her topple right back over. She would have toppled over, if a certain giant hand didn’t appear at her back to steady her. Ziana almost jumped out of her skin, skittering back and making damn sure that she kept her balance so Dean wouldn’t do that again. Still, she wobbled. It didn’t help that she was exhausted from lack of sleep and all the stress between Shay’s illness. And meeting a human.
Even before Sam opened his mouth, she could tell by the look on his face that he was against her departure plan.
“What if you get back in there and she needs something else?” Sam pointed out. “We can wait for a while, see if she wakes up. Right, Dean?” He looked to his massive older brother, and Ziana couldn’t help but be impressed that a smaller person could possibly call the shots in any way.
“Kinda defeats the purpose of helping out if we don’t know if we really helped,” Dean said.
“Besides,” Sam added before Ziana could protest, “you look like you’re ready to pass out. We won’t make you stay, but you’re welcome to. We can hold off on leaving for a while longer.”
Ziana pursed her lips, ready to turn them down, but when she looked down at Shay’s face, the words died in her throat. After mustering up the courage and going through all the trouble of revealing herself to a human, she needed to go all the way. Needed to make sure that her actions were worth it in the end. That meant taking whatever these strange brothers had to offer in regards to helping Shay.
“Fine,” she muttered, lowering Shay back down to the bed and adjusting her limbs to a comfortable position.
Ziana was vulnerable without her needle, and she had half a mind to ask to go back home just to grab it, but the thought of leaving Shay alone with a giant–even one that wanted to help–was out of the question.
“You should get some rest,” Sam said, walking over and putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You’re safe in here.”
“No thanks,” she snorted, shrugging him off to sit beside Shay stiffly, determined not to sleep.
Neither brother argued with her beyond that. She worried they were going to stay staring at her and Shay until she woke up, but soon enough, they went back to their own business. Whatever that was.
Sam climbed right onto Dean’s hand without hesitation. It didn’t sit right with Ziana at all, a shiver running down her spine. Sure, she had needed to do the same thing to get back to the bed from the table, but at least she had been openly conflicted about it.
Removing her attention from the brothers, she looked back down at Shay and set one wrapped ice pack on her forehead and the other two on either side of her neck. Ziana was certain the ice would melt soon enough, but she supposed she could always ask Dean for more ice and paper towels, even if the thought of getting the giant man’s attention went against every instinct in her body.
Anything to keep Shay comfortable.
~~~
Ziana wasn’t sure when she fell asleep. The next thing she knew, she snapped up into a sitting position, praying she had only dozed off for a few moments. She blinked her drowsiness away and immediately became aware that something was wrong.
Shay was gone.
Springing to her feet on the bed, Ziana found the largest and most likely culprit sitting on a chair by the bed and eating from a pile of food in a styrofoam container. He didn’t even notice her stand, but she certainly got his attention when she yelled.
“Where is she?” She stormed closer to the edge of the bed, fists balled up at her sides. “What did you do to her?”
“Ziana, I’m fine!” A familiar voice from somewhere farther down the bed pulled Ziana’s away from what was beginning to look like an exasperated scowl from Dean.
Shay sat a few feet away with Sam, the two of them eating from what appeared to be a helping of whatever was in Dean’s box.
“Shay…” All the air exited Ziana’s lung in one relieved sigh. She rushed over, all but ignoring Sam as she checked on Shay’s condition. Her cheeks were still flushed with fever, but she was sitting up on her own and looking alert. A little wobbly, but awake. “How do you feel?” Ziana asked. “How long have you been awake? Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I said I’m fine.” Shay sounded almost annoyed, a smile tugging at her lips nonetheless. “I’ve been up for about an hour, and uh… Let’s just say that it was hard to go back to sleep once I saw where I was.” She threw a fairly nervous look at Dean.
Ziana grimaced and nodded. “You’re taking this pretty well,” she said.
Dean chuckled, making both Ziana and Shay tense up. He raised his eyebrows at Ziana. “Well, she practically threw herself on top of you to ‘protect’ you, until Sammy convinced her that you’re the one who brought her here in the first place.”
“Y-Yeah.” Shay caught Ziana’s wrist in a gentle grip and gave it a squeeze. “They told me what you did.”
Ziana laughed in disbelief of herself. “Pretty stupid, huh?”
“Very. Especially after giving Sam a black eye.”
Sam gave a small snort at that, and Ziana turned to give him a once-over. The bruise seemed to be getting a little better, but it would be a while before it was nothing but memory. With Shay awake, Ziana wasn’t sure what got hold of her, but she bowed her head slightly.
“I’m sorry, Sam,” she said with utmost sincerity. “You saved Shay, and the only thing you have from me is a black eye.”
Sam waved off her apology. “Honestly, Dean was more upset about it than I was.”
“Hey, good luck making your own ice packs the next time you get punched out, shorty,” Dean grumbled, eliciting another flinch from Ziana and Shay–something that he didn’t let slip this time. “Oh, come on. You’re not still scared of me, are you?”
“No!” Ziana snapped at the same time that Shay murmured, “Yeah…”
“Guess you’ll be wanting to get back home now that Shay’s awake,” Sam said. “Have some food before you go, at least. It’s leftovers from yesterday, but it’s still good, really. And you can take as much as you want back with you.”
Ziana almost didn’t believe Sam’s generous offer, but he hadn’t given her any reason not to. With some coaxing from Shay, Ziana sat down by the napkin and dug in, trying and failing to ignore the sounds of Dean eating next to the bed. She couldn’t bring herself to mind all that much. Food supplies had been tight without Shay’s help in scavenging, and the offer of fresh hot food was something that even Ziana couldn’t turn down.
She sure was glad she hadn’t skewered Sam with her needle.
(Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! The entry can be read in full here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5978541/chapters/13739469 )
Brothers Apart 