Tag: ababs

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November 28th excerpt:

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.

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November 27th excerpt:

“Do you have any idea where you’re going?” Sherlock griped as Dean directed him across the street. Knowing every road and back-alley in London was only so much help when Sherlock was being led by a tiny man on his shoulder who hadn’t set foot outside in over a decade.

Dean rolled his eyes. “No,” he said pointedly. “The only times I’ve been outside in London, I’ve either been on your shoulder or in a cage.”

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November 26th excerpt:

Clearing his throat, John stepped closer to Sam, surprising himself as he held an upturned hand out to the younger Winchester.

“Come on. Can’t let them leave us behind again.” John smiled invitingly, hoping he wasn’t pressuring Sam into something he wasn’t ready for.

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November 25th excerpt:

Dean was silent for a long moment. He very rarely tried to actively use the ability. Mostly it just happened. They needed food, and he would suddenly just know where to go. Questioning it when their lives depended on the ability seemed like looking a gift horse in the mouth.

As he focused, the prickles on the back of his neck began to grow more prominent. His surroundings dropped away.

It was like he was standing next to Sam once more, trying to hurriedly clear his mind and listen to Sam’s constant litany of ‘advice’ for how to do it. 

With focus came clarity, and Dean found himself pointing before he realized his hand was moving.

Psychic freak, slipped into his mind and he angrily crushed the thought as he told Sherlock, “That way.”

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November 24th excerpt:

“Oh, well that clears everything up,” Dean said, sarcasm heavy in his voice. Out of all the times he’d seen Sherlock pull that one on John, he’d somehow never expected to have it turned around on him.

After being plucked out of the cupboard without warning and then told he was going to be training, also without warning or any way to prepare, this was shaping up to be quite a day already.

“You’ll have to refresh my memory,” Dean said, his gruff little voice as firm as ever and speaking with a level of authority that his size contrasted with. “Seems I have a difficult time recalling conversations I was absent for.”

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November 23rd excerpt:

Sam leaned over the bottlecap again to avoid looking at Sherlock, unable to completely hide that the detective continued to unnerve him compared to John. He tilted his cup so the drop of dark coffee splashed into the milky brown color. Dean made a face at him as he pulled over the cube of sugar, contemplating just how much to add to the bitter liquid.

“Now you’re just ruining it,” Dean complained as Sam tipped the entire cube into the cap.

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November 22nd excerpt:

Dean wrinkled his nose. “The only way to drink coffee is black,” he declared, remembering the times he’d made coffee for his dad while he was growing up. Or ordered it at a coffee shop. There was nothing like the bitter flavor of the black brew to wake someone up.

Sam glanced between Dean and John, realizing he didn’t have an answer for them. “Sugar…?” he said, more question than answer.

“Yeah, sure,” John chuckled at Dean’s unexpectedly strong opinions about coffee. He supposed it made sense, he was a few years older than Sam. Plenty of opportunity to garner a taste for the stuff.

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November 21st excerpt:

“He’s afraid of heights!” Sam chimed in, one boot propped against the edge of the shelf while he leaned backwards to test his weight on his hook before climbing.

“Dude, I am not afraid of heights!” Dean protested, bringing himself around enough to push himself up. His hand didn’t make a dent in John’s skin, and his fingers were small enough to fit between the imprints that made it unique. “Just… flying.” He shuddered at the memory of their one fateful trip on an airplane. The turbulence that struck was like an earthquake to the brothers at their size, and all the cushioning in the world couldn’t make it bearable for them. “There’s a difference!”

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November 20th excerpt:

Long fingers that outsized Dean closed in around the young man, sealing him off from Sam. It happened too fast for him to react, and then he felt the thick, leathery skin bump against his back, sweeping him up into a light, casual grasp that left Dean’s stomach somewhere behind him. The world moved around him fast enough for his vertigo to hit with a vengeance, making his face start to turn green.