The Lounge || Advent of the Deans (4 of 5)

With all the excitement at the bar, the teenager by the arcade machines wrapped up his game and stepped back, walking over slowly, watching the floor. In one hand, his young little brother was cupped, but little Sammy was watching Dean’s shoulder with something akin to awe. The other Sam was perched on a shoulder like it was nothing, chaperoning the kids.

“How come he gets to drink beer?” the young teenaged Dean bitched when he saw what Jacob had in his hands.

“Because you’re not old enough to drink in Ireland, kiddo,” adult Dean countered without missing a beat. “Come back in a few years and then we’ll talk.”

Jacob eyed the newcomers, even more bemused to find himself meeting yet another Dean. This one was younger than him this time, though he also had plenty of practice with the little guys.

Really little guys. The Sam on his hand wasn’t even three inches tall. Jacob wasn’t sure he would have recognized him as Sam normally. The details of his tiny face were lost even just a few steps away.

He smirked faintly and shrugged at the younger Dean. “My Dean gave me permission,” he quipped.

Even if it was cheeky of him, it was totally worth it to see the pouty scowl on the kid-Dean’s face. He shot a grin to the Sam on the kid’s shoulder. “Hey, Sam, Sam, and Dean,” he greeted, bemused as ever by the fact that there was more than one of the Winchester brothers here. “I’m Jacob.”


Oscar had wandered around the room again after they all had their meal. With yet more people coming in, he had decided to make himself scarce again, and greet them on his own time.

The new human was bigger than anyone he had ever seen in his life. Huge, and broad, even bigger than the adult Dean! Oscar all but dove behind the first structure he could.

It happened to be the bar. He found out when he wandered around a corner and found the bartender right there, amiably cleaning a glass while he listened in to the introductions on the other side. Deep voices mixed with the quieter cadences of more people Oscar’s size, but he wasn’t thinking about that.

He figured he should scurry back to one of the other tables. He didn’t want to be in the way.

As he turned, a shadow slid over him and he flinched. A hand dropped down in front of him, scooping under his feet. Oscar squeaked as he lost his balance and rolled onto a broad palm.

It was a familiar feeling, but he still curled into a ball as the bartender lifted him off the floor. He caught a glimpse of the man’s good-natured but very entertained smirk before the hand tilted. Oscar flailed his arms before rolling onto the polished wood top of the bar itself.

“Oh,” he muttered, counting how many people were around now. A lot more than he was used to, that was for sure.

“Hey, Oz!” at least two voices said in time, one older and one younger. The smaller Sam and Dean, sitting bemused at their bar, looked back at their larger counterparts.

“Oz?” the small Dean asked.

That was when the teenager Dean noticed a third version of him sitting at the bar. “Dude!” He scrambled into the seat next to regular Dean, letting his brother off onto the bartop to start over to Oscar and allowing the older Sam to climb casually down and saunter over to his Dean.

“Why’s everyone so surprised by me?” tiny Dean complained, eyeing up the younger version of himself with suspicion. After his larger counterpart had swiped him off Jacob, he was having a hard time letting his guard down.

“What happened?” the regular Dean asked, brushing a fingertip over the tiny spike of hair and getting cussed out.

Sam shrugged, sipping at his quart of beer. “Dad didn’t make it back in time, I’d say.” He eyed the two large Deans up. “I’m guessing that’s how you both got away.”

“Still couldn’t get Sammy out of the way,” the youngest Dean said grimly.

“But you caught him before Dad dragged you out of the room,” regular Dean corrected, softening as his own little brother walked past his arm to look at a Dean his size with fascination. “Coulda been worse.”


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The Lounge || Advent of the Deans (3 of 5)

The little Dean bristled when he saw Dean looking at his Sam. “Don’t even think about grabbing Sam like that!” he commanded bossily, making his taller counterpart smirk in amusement.

“Oh?” Dean drawled lazily, claiming the seat directly behind the tiny bar set up for them. “And I’m guessin’ you’ll be the one stopping me, shortstop?” He winked at the new Sam in the room, letting him know it was all just a joke, and Sam nodded back, relaxing a little as he walked closer to the pair of Deans.

“Yes, I will,” Dean snipped back, pointedly taking his stool at the miniature bar just in time for a tiny glass of whiskey, complete with ice and a nearly-microscopic napkin, appear in front of him, courtesy of the bartender. It was quickly followed by an equally small slice of apple pie and fork made for it, and a mug of beer, looking the size of a quart next to Sam. “I trained up Jacob, didn’t I?”

Jacob snickered quietly at that. He didn’t even have an argument for it. ‘Trained’ had become a word that suited him pretty well, when it came to the tiny brothers that had perched on his shoulders mere moments ago. He’d learned to listen especially carefully to their quiet voices, always ready to accommodate them if they needed it.

He received a beer of his own, along with a silent smirk from the bartender, and almost went off his train of thought for a moment. He couldn’t place who the guy was like he had with Dean.

“If this Dean is anything like you are, I don’t know how much luck you’ll have training him,” he commented with a shrug. Jacob didn’t have to grow up with the little guy to know how headstrong he could be.

“Besides. He probably already knows how to fix a car, I just had to take the class to fix up the Impala.”

Dean arched his back pridefully. “I’ve rebuilt that car from the ground up before,” he bragged shamelessly, wiggling his fingers at his smaller self. “With my bare hands.

Little Dean scoffed, and tossed back his whiskey, eyebrows going up when he tasted it. Unlike the whiskey at Bobby’s, which was likely home-brewed or from a box, this was top shelf stuff. It went down smooth as ice, and didn’t burn his throat.

“Another!” he declared, slamming the glass down on the bar and looking hopefully at the bartender.

“Don’t go reliving the other night,” Sam hissed.


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The Lounge || Advent of the Deans (2 of 5)

Jacob took hesitant steps toward the bar. His eyes trailed on the ground, not knowing who Oscar was but certain he’d find out. In the meantime, he wouldn’t put the little guy at risk. 

He arrived at the bar and took a seat. There was a beat of hesitation before he settled his arms on the bar so his passengers had a way down. Leaving them to their short climb, he nodded at the much taller Dean.

“I’m Jacob Andris,” he greeted, looking bemused. “How … how’s it going?”

“Jacob?” Dean repeated, a grin blossoming on his face. He clapped the kid on the back, earning a look from the Dean perched close by on a shoulder. “Bowman told us all about ya!”

“Do you mind? ” Dean snipped from where he was sitting. No matter how much Jacob tried, he couldn’t completely stop the impact from jostling Dean and Sam a bit.

Dean poked at smaller-him in the side curiously. “Dude, since when am I bitty?

The much smaller Dean batted at the questing finger in aggravation. “Dude, quit it!”

They stared at each other, and the regular-sized Dean burst into a grin. “Awesome.

Before Dean or Jacob could react, Dean had nabbed his smaller counterpart off the teenager’s shoulder, setting him down on the bar before he could get a swipe in with his tiny knife. “Bartender!” Dean called out, “we need a whiskey and apple pie over here, stat!”

“Coming right up!”

Sam stared at where his older brother was standing now, in just as much shock as Dean was down on the bar. “What in the world,” he said weakly, though he could feel the underlying current in the room that said they were safe. As boisterous and odd as this new Dean seemed, he wasn’t a danger.

Just excitable.

“Uh,” Jacob said, once again at a loss for what to say next. He didn’t have any clue who Bowman was. He had a strange feeling he might someday, but for now the name rang no bells. He decided to just let that one slide by.

Instead, he eyed Dean– the one he knew– down on the bar. The little guy wasn’t hurt at all, but he’d definitely never left Jacob’s shoulder behind so fast. The taller Dean was swift, and clearly had enough experience handling someone smaller than himself. Little Dean didn’t have a scratch on him.

In fact, he’d been set down next to a miniature version of the bar they sat at. Jacob grinned at the sight, and reached down to nudge one of the stools.

“Check it out, guys, you got front row seating,” he mused, giving the stool a light twirl. “Sam, you wanna order anything?”

“Maybe just a beer,” Sam said, his voice low.

That didn’t stop the bartender from overhearing. “One beer, comin’ up!”

Sam slowly climbed down Jacob’s arm, taking in the new, unfamiliar surroundings. The warm lighting overhead pushed away any shadows, and though Sam was shy as he saw the other Dean glance over at him, a telltale tingle going up his neck at the motion, he knew the man meant no harm.

Not that the smaller Dean would ever believe them.


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The Lounge || Advent of the Deans (1 of 5)

Welcome to the AU lounge! A place of relaxation conceived and helped designed by all the readers and visitors to the world of Brothers Apart! Stay awhile, kick up your boots, and have some pie!


Jacob paused and blinked deliberately. A sudden shift of his surroundings caught him off guard enough that he stiffened, taking in a sharp breath. They weren’t in the Impala anymore, shortly after he’d agreed to travel with the Winchesters. The key to the car, like precious metal, was nowhere to be found, along with any of their other possessions.

They were in … a bar? A diner?

He frowned around the room, noticing the arcade machines lined up against one wall. There was a kid by one of them, a teen only a handful of years younger than Jacob. He was intent on the screen, not even noticing Jacob’s sudden appearance there.

There were two others that he could see, both at the bar. One man stood behind it, and gave him a knowing smirk and a nod. Jacob was too bamboozled to return the greeting right away.

His plan to walk over there and find out what was going on stopped abruptly when he took a closer look at the other guy, leaning against the bar with a glass in one hand.

Tall, sporting a worn leather jacket and jeans, and with a spike of light-brown hair atop his head, the man was the spitting image of Dean, who was currently perched on Jacob’s shoulder, not quite four inches tall.

He stared for another beat of hesitation, and then realized that the guy didn’t just look like Dean. He was Dean. No curse on him, standing at full human size. Enjoying a drink at the bar while a tiny double of himself stood on someone’s shoulder several yards away.

“Uh. Okay,” he muttered, glancing to his shoulders without turning his head. “What’s …” he trailed off, finally noticing the tiny furniture resting on top of all other other furniture in the room. Perfect miniatures of each table, with their own chairs and some place settings here and there. A glance at one of the unoccupied arcade machines revealed a tiny Winchester-sized console on the panel.

“Yeah, so this is weird,” he finally managed a full sentence. “Guys, what do I do?”

They were interrupted before either of the tiny brothers with him could respond. “C’mon in!” called the Dean that loitered at the bar. “They have all you can eat pie.

That certainly made the Dean with Jacob perk right up. “Pie?”

Sam rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t see Dean from where he sat. That tone of voice was easily recognizable. “Dude, you had an entire slice of pie to yourself a few weeks ago.”

“But pie.

The Dean waiting for them at the bar gestured at the seats. “Just watch your step. I’m not sure where Oscar got off to. The others are playing Mario.”

Others. Jacob glanced at the arcade console and realized that there must be other people Sam and Dean’s– his Sam and Dean– size over there. He couldn’t see them past the teenager, but some notion popped into his head that they must be Sams. 

Plural Sams and Deans. Holy shit.


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The Lounge || Genesis (6 of 6)

The kid waiting outside the door stepped in hesitantly, his green eyes darting from side to side. “Dad?” he called hesitantly. Two small figures, standing on his hand, looked around with him, one eager and one nervous.

The man in the room, now standing behind the bar calmly cleaning a glass, smiled. “No dads here, I’m afraid,” he said, meaning it in more than one way. “But food’s on the house, and the quarters for the arcade are endless.

"How ‘bout you come in… stay awhile and rest.”

And with that, the Lounge was in business.


Sam arched his eyebrows at what Dean was carrying. He could only see two drinks and the two burgers, nothing else. It wasn’t until Dean sat down, across from younger Dean, that Sam realized there was more cupped in his hand.

Dean held out his hand to Sam. Three different trays were cupped between the wrinkles in his skin, by some miracle all standing upright. Sam hurried to take them, realizing Dean had no way of placing stuff down while his hands were full.

Peeking under the first bowl, Sam announced “Mac and cheese and fluff,” vaguely surprised that the strange obsession from his childhood existed in a bar, nevermind that it was sized for them, tiny noodles perfectly made and all. “Peanut butter and jelly,” he placed Oscar’s sandwich in front of him, ruffling the mousy hair. “And a salad.” He grinned his thanks at Dean, staring at the tiny leaves and smaller tomatoes.

“Plus two burgers made right,” Dean said, with his hand freed finally able to hand off younger Dean’s food.

The teenager scowled at the soda. “What? You’re the only one that gets whiskey?”

Dean ticked a finger at him. “You got a few more years before that, champ,” he said dryly, picking up his whiskey on the rocks. “You’ll live.”

Sam grinned, picking up the beer Dean had gotten him. “Perfect.”

Oscar’s eyes brightened as he picked up his very own peanut butter and jelly sandwich, made with bread perfectly sized for him. He’d never minded when Dean had to squash it down, but he’d never imagined having bread like a human.

He mulled over his first bite while eyeing the drinks the others had. Whiskey and soda were definitely out for him, between the alcohol and the fizz.

He couldn’t help the fascinated glances at the other miniature food on the table. He’d never seen a tomato so small, but there were several in older-Sam’s salad. The pasta in young-Sam’s dish was probably too small for the two Deans to see.

“I wish I knew how ta make food that size,” he announced. “I could make my own sandwiches and-and whatever fluff is and everything.”

Younger Sam picked up his fork, the fluff hanging down from it, and laughed. “Maybe we can make some fluff sometime,” he said wistfully, wishing they could go back to Oscar’s motel in the real world and take him along. “I think that’s the same either size.”

He bit down onto it, and had to close his eyes at the unexpected explosion of flavors. It was over two months now since he’d been cursed, and it was delicious. Sam had almost forgotten what it was like having food that was his size.

The two humans were mostly ignored by the kids and Sam, all three of the smaller folk used to having them around while they were eating. Dean leaned back when he finished the last bite of his burger with a sigh of contentment. It wasn’t often that burgers tastes so fresh with ingredients so crisp. He idly wondered what the apple pie would taste like, knowing that naturally this place would have pie.

“So,” Dean said, “you tell us your story, and we’ll tell you ours.”

Younger Dean smiled ruefully. “I think you already know it starts with Sam’s curse, right?” He waited for Dean to nod. “I was lucky enough to spot him when Dad came back–“

While they talked and caught up, the letters on the TV screen slowly switched, brightening around The Road Not Taken while the other names vanished into the nether. The bartender grinned, knowing soon a new group would join them.

His bar would be hopping in no time at all.


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@neonthebright

Oh jeez. I can see one problem with that setup, and that’s the fact that he is teddy Jacob. Those kids would end up carrying him around, no matter that he’s supposed to be in charge. It’s just helping him out, right? His legs are so short. And he’s adorable. Huggable no matter the size.

He might end up getting a piggyback from kiddo!Sam and make that his designated spot. At least he’s up higher that way and he can keep up. 


@nightmares06

Good for Jacob that even Weechester Sam knows to respect his elders! Sam would have no problem letting Jacob sit on his shoulders, giving the lil guy some height to work with– though he still can’t even reach adult Sam’s shoulder from there, at least he can keep up with the other kiddos!

The Lounge || Genesis (5 of 6)

The last step was the most important.

“Let the rules be set!”

Over the bar, he passed his hand, and a television set, ahead of its time and with throbbing letters on it appeared. It counted down the time to when the first visitors would appear, welcomed in.

“Let no one enter who would do harm. Let no harm come to those who enter. Those who are welcomed are welcomed by all, despite their differences or similarities.”

He grinned, a smarmy smirk that put Dean’s to shame. “No memories of this place may pass the threshold, and no one will enter knowingly! Yet all will come, and a berth in the storm will be granted!”

Turning to the wall, he gestured grandly. “Let it known that we are now open for business!”

The words on the screen overhead switched to Hershey Kisses and Salt Lines, and there on the wall grew two straight lines, shooting upwards until they dove across the wall at each other, forming a door.

The door opened.


Back at the table, Sam stepped closer to the young children, noting that Oscar was much thinner and frailer than his young self. “Everyone should pick a seat,” he said, gesturing to the round table made for them. “Dean’s going to have the food in a few minutes.”

They all followed his instructions, but Sam found a fingertip brushing at his hair. “So long!” said the younger Dean. “Why don’t ya cut it?”

Sam stepped away from the hand, though he didn’t feel any fear at the newer human. This was Dean, after all, though much younger and without the shadows that hung over the older Winchester.

“I like it,” Sam muttered, brushing his hair back into some semblance of order as he stepped over to the small table. Between two different Deans, he was never going to have a peaceful moment with his hair.

“I like it too!” young Sam announced as Sam sat down next to him, pushing at the napkins their size and picking up the placemats to peer under them.

Oscar swung his legs back and forth on his chair. His toes didn’t even reach the surface of the larger tabletop, but he was used to that. The thread spools he normally used as chairs were too tall for him as well.

“I don’t cut my hair very much either,” he commented, one hand brushing absently at his messy brown hair. It was reminiscent of a dandelion in some places, perpetually uneven and unkempt.

He caught himself staring at how tall the older Sam had ended up. By his reckoning, Sam had to be almost four inches tall. Both Winchesters were towering people, no matter the scale.

Shyness welled up in him and he looked away, instead finding the miniature utensils at each place set on the table. Hesitantly, as if wondering if it would be bad manners, he brushed his fingertips over the tines of his fork.

“Well I think it looks just fine the way it is,” Sam said gently, laying his satchel by the side of the chair and wondering at how odd it felt to sit at a table made for him, and one that have no indication it was made for dolls. The younger version of Dean wasn’t looking at them anymore, and gave no reaction to the statement, instead watching Dean get their food at the bar.

“Grub’s up,” Dean announced as he came back over.


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Artwork by @lamthetwickster!

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