Tag: big!dean

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Walt Versus Dean

BA Canon: No || AU

Timeline: 2005 (The same week Dean and Sam reunited in canon BA)

(Part 3 of 5 )

A heavy silence fell in the room. Walt’s heart began to pound in time with the pulse he could feel surging through the hand around him, waiting to see what his fate would be for speaking up.

“You can talk?” This time, the question was directed right at him. Twin green orbs stared straight into his face, the intensity alone keeping him motionless. The fingers let go of Walt’s arm and the human took a step to the side.

With a nauseating drop, the human sat down at the table, releasing Walt. Before there was a chance to even consider an escape, two immense arms thicker than he was tall had walled him in. The only exit to his prison was guarded by the two massive hands.

Still, Walt backed away, caution in his demeanor. His arms he held out to the sides for balance, keeping a steady footing. He couldn’t afford to waste any opportunities that cropped up.

The human leaned in, eyes squinting curiously. “Well?” he demanded. Before Walt could react, a hand came over and swept his satchel from his shoulders.

Walt balled his hands into fists at that. “Aside from being bigger than me, what gives you the right to trap me or anyone like this? Do you always take advantage of your size so callously?”

The words that came out of his mouth made the human stiffen in his seat. The hand holding Walt’s satchel slowly curled into a fist, putting the small bag unavoidably out of reach for the smaller man. The eyes that were trained on Walt and only Walt narrowed. “What gives me the right is the fact that you’re in my room, sneaking around. Why were you here?”

Walt narrowed his own blue eyes back. He didn’t say a word, simply crossing his arms. He would never put Sam or Mallory at risk by telling a human that he was only searching for food for his family. Visions danced in his head of this massive man tearing up the floorboards with his bare hands, greedily gathering up the rest of Walt’s family, maybe even everyone else that lived in the motel. They had no way to stop him, no one to come help them. Their fate hung in the balance.

The human waited for a few moments, then frowned. Deep rivets in his face cut an intimidating figure all over again, making an icy shiver run up Walt’s back. Damn the man was fearsome.

Seconds later, the human was leaning over. A vase that had a dusty set of fake flowers was lifted up in a huge hand. The flowers were tossed, and the man blew out the inside of the vase. Walt started to back away as he realized what was going to happen, but of course there was no way for him to escape. His climbing supplies were still wrapped up in a massive fist, out of reach, and he was over three feet in the air. He might be able to scale down on his own without a problem, but that would take time and careful action, and time was in short supply with a human around. He would only get a step or two before being grabbed again.

Then the vase slammed over his head and the time for action was over.

(

Part 1

|| Part 2 )

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Walt Versus Dean

BA Canon: No || AU

Timeline: 2005 (The same week Dean and Sam reunited in canon BA)

(Part 2 of 5 )

A boot crashed into the ground inches from Walt’s body. The speed he was running, coupled with the aftershock from the impact, sent Walt sprawling. He slammed into a solid leather wall, slumping down with a groan as the impact dazed him.

Head spinning, he tried to stumble back from the leather wall that had materialized in front of him. He was too disoriented to spot the shadow that was approaching him from the side, cast from high overhead as the human stooped down.

Walt’s legs buckled when he ran into something thick and unmoving as he backed away. His eyes widened as he toppled over, landing on a surface that was hard, yet at the same time gave a little when his weight hit it.

He realized what it was even as it closed around him.

A hand.

Thick, callused skin covered a palm broad enough to use for a bed. He tried to scramble off immediately, but fingers longer and thicker than his body coiled around him until there was nowhere else to go.

Trapped.

With the haunting memories of his own capture, combined with the heartbreaking time he’d seen his daughter trapped in a cage, Walt thrashed desperately, trying to escape, trying to get free. His mind refused to acknowledge his helplessness.

Then, his stomach dropped out from inside him.

The hand was lifting.

His struggles halted immediately as he was unwillingly yanked into the air. He couldn’t see out of the fist coiled around him like steel, but he knew the human was straightening to his full, terrifying height. Walt was along for the ride whether he wanted to be or not.

The moment the movement halted, the fingers shifted around him, loosening. Before he could go for his razor, damn the height, the thumb nearby slipped under his arm.

Walt suddenly found himself in an unforgiving fist, trapped from the chest down. His left arm remained crushed against his side but the right arm was free, uncomfortably propped up in the air at an awkward angle by the human’s huge thumb.

The hand tilted with Walt confined inside. He found himself staring up into unblinking green eyes the size of his head, watching his struggles with simple curiosity. A calm, interested detachment while Walt’s life hung in the balance at the whim of one of his greatest enemies.

The human frowned. Walt’s blood turned to ice.

“What the hell are you?” the deep voice asked. The human was talking to himself as he curiously eyed the small person he’d captured.

While he was talking, Walt couldn’t look away from the huge mouth. A lazy drawl curled around the words as the air vibrated.

The huge thumb shifted under Walt’s arm again. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the other massive hand moving.

Realizing it was coming straight for him, Walt tried to twist out of the way. The human was fast. An index finger and thumb closed around his arm. The lean limb was helpless between the huge digits, outsizing Walt’s entire body. He realized with a start that all it would take for the human to snap the arm in two would be a simple flinch.

“Be careful with that!” The words were out of his mouth before he even realized he was talking.

( Part 1 )

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Having Sam’s trust is the most important thing in the world to Dean, especially with the new change. He’ll probably be going along with shenanigans a lot from here on out, because there’s no way he’d just leave Sam high and dry with John after a fight like that. Gotta stick together!

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Walt Versus Dean

BA Canon: No || AU

Timeline: 2005 (The same week Dean and Sam reunited in canon BA)

(Part 1 of 5 )

Take it in steps.

First, examine the room. Watch the shadows. Listen for breathing.

Wait.

Patience is key to survival. You must be willing to wait and analyze and decide if the risk is worth the gain.

Food does you no good if you get caught.

Stay alert.

No matter how certain you are that they’re gone, nothing is stopping them from coming back. Never drop your guard. It might be the last thing you ever do.

The maids don’t pay attention here. Your luck might hold up if they’re the ones that come in the room.

Might.

But there’s no way to ever know.

Those words were always on Walt’s mind. Some of the last words he’d ever said to Bree, and the words he now repeated to Sam ad nauseum. He was desperate not to lose another child to the humans.

For that reason alone, Walt was glad he’d caught Sam trying to sneak out that morning.

It was a good plan to check the empty room before anyone else checked in, but an odd feeling, the sense of foreboding, that trouble was waiting right around the corner for all of them, had made Walt tell Sam to stay with Mallory. He could help with her de-threading that she was working on.

Walt had gone instead.

And now, despite all his planning and watching and listening and waiting, he was in trouble.

Sam might already have been caught if he was the one in the room.

A massive boot hit the ground less than a foot from his hiding place, shaking the ground around him. He flinched back, knowing that all the human had to do was glance to the side. The chair leg he had darted behind in desperation to get out of sight offered no real cover.

He could feel the reassuring weight of his razor tucked against his chest, weighing down his jacket. It might not be as sturdy or as sharp as Sam’s beloved knife (a weapon that had been crafted with a skill Walt found himself admiring), but it would get the job done if he needed to defend himself.

As the human continued past his hiding place, walking into the bathroom, Walt peered around the leg of the chair. His breathing hitched in anticipation. The man was out of sight.

It was now or never.

Gone was any thought of watching or waiting. He was out in the open, far from cover. The distance he needed to run to get under that cover would barely be two steps for the human if he was seen.

He’d never win that race.

His legs tensed, then he dashed towards the looming dresser. The welcome darkness underneath beckoned him. No number of dustbunnies would stop him from diving into that darkness.

The floor started to tremble.

No, no, no! Walt hadn’t even made it halfway in his heartstopping run of desperation. He forced his legs to pump faster, desperately gasping in air. The soles of his boots dug into the worn carpet as he went.

“What the hell?” the voice boomed overhead.

He’d been spotted.

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Dean Rescues Sam

BA Canon: No || AU

Timeline: 1993 (Dean is 14; Sam is 10)

(Part 4 of 4)

It was only a ten minute walk to school, and passed by quietly for the first five minutes. Dean was deep in thought, wishing there was something he could do to help Sam. But… he’s too small. It’s too dangerous. What if someone grabs him? He’ll be better if he stays in the room while I find a way to break the curse. John’s words reverberated in his mind. Look out for Sammy, Dean. He’s too small to look out for himself. It was like Sam had become something that just needed looking after, instead of a son. A burden to carry.

Dean could never think of his brother like that.

At the five minute mark, he felt a shifting in his pocket. He caught himself before he jumped, internally groaning as he realized the only thing that could have hitched a ride in there like that.

Dean stuck a hand in his pocket, and sure enough, a tiny body clothed in jeans and flannel tried to squirm away from grasping fingers. He gave a laugh as he briefly pulled Sam out, shaking his head. “Sam, what were you thinking? You heard dad about it not being safe out here for you!”

Sam uncurled from the ball Dean had scooped him into. There was no fear in his face when he looked up at Dean anymore, a fact that Dean was proud of. He never wanted to scare his little brother.  It felt like he was winning Sam’s trust back, even with the huge difference in size.

“Yeah, right,“ Sam grumbled. He scuffed a shoe against Dean’s palm. “Not safe. Instead I get to sit there and listen to dad lecture me all day. He has no idea what it’s really like and he’s coming up with ‘rules’ I have to follow!”

The unexpected vehemence from Sam caught him off guard. Usually his little brother was the one that always had a smile on his face. The curse must be wearing on him… Dean winced at the memory of John glaring down at Sam. Their dad hadn’t caught sight of the tiny, curled fist that Sam kept behind his back, trying to hide the way it shook from fear.

Dean couldn’t say no to the puppy eyes his brother pulled out, not even when they were almost too small to be seen. He gave a laugh. “Yeah, I get it. He’s going to kill me when we get back.” He’d just have to tell John that it was his idea. The last thing they needed was Sam getting yelled at again.

He lifted up his hand to his shoulder. “How’s the hoodie sound for hiding? That way you can tell me if anything happens.”

Sam lit right up, reminding Dean why he did stupid shit like this. Even though he expected to see the Impala come flying around the corner at any second, he let his brother climb onto his shoulder. A tiny weight dropped into his hood, and Dean started walking again.

“You’re helping me with the quizzes, though, pint-size.”

( Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 )

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Dean Rescues Sam

BA Canon: No || AU

Timeline: 1993 (Dean is 14; Sam is 10)

(Part 3 of 4)

Dean tried to ignore the argument as he sullenly got ready for school, shoving an extra notebook into his backpack. It wasn’t like he was going to be in the school long enough to actually learn anything. What the hell was the point?

John glared down at his younger son, who was doing his best to stand his ground on the table. At only two and a half inches tall, a glare like that wasn’t easy to look into without flinching.

“Dad, it’s just school,” Sam protested. “How can I keep up if I stay in the motel all day?”

“It’s not safe,” John said grimly. “What if someone sees you? It’s not a risk you’re taking. You’ll be safer back here with me. When Dean gets back he can fill you in on what he learned.”

Sam rolled his eyes, knowing as well as Dean did that his older brother rarely paid attention long enough in class to soak up the lessons. John’s eyes narrowed. “Sam…”

“Fine,” Sam snapped. He kicked the pen that was left near him on the table. “I’ll stay,” he finished in a mumble.

John nodded sharply. He spotted Dean, still standing in the shadow of the bathroom. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he snapped. The recent reveal of his younger son’s curse had left his patience thin. Dean and Sam were both treading on thin ice constantly.

Dean didn’t say a word, just swung his backpack onto his shoulders. He tried to give Sam a reassuring glance, I’ll be back soon, but Sam refused to meet his gaze. Great, Dean thought. Bad enough he had to leave the two of them alone. Worse that neither of them was happy with him.

John grabbed a set of clothing, stomping into the bathroom. “Make sure the door is locked behind you!” he shouted at Dean, paying no mind to the way Sam flinched at the loud noise.

Dean shuffled his way out of the room, trying to draw out the time until he left.

He was so withdrawn into himself that he never noticed the weight that slipped into his pocket when he passed by the table.

( Part 1 || Part 2 )

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The Cat

BA Canon: No

Timeline: After The Schism of Fire and Water

Original Post: Sam Verses Cat ( you wanted Dean, here he comes! This will be a little bonus prompt )

( Part 2 of 2 )

Dean shoved the plates and silverware set up on the table out of his way, gently laying Sam down on a dishcloth. “Hang on, Sammy,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of that for you.”

Sam groaned, trying to sit up. “Dean…” he gritted out. “Cat…”

“I took care of it. Don’t worry, it can’t reach you, pint-size.” Carefully, Dean pushed on Sam’s chest, forcing him to lie still. “Just give me a minute. I need to grab supplies.”

Sam sagged back down, letting Dean take over. His eyes fluttered closed, and for a second Dean panicked until he saw the small chest move up and down. Only then did he get up. Supplies… he needed supplies. He hadn’t brought supplies in with him. Something to disinfect the slashes, something to wrap them up with. It would be impossible to give Sam stitches.

Shoving away the panic welling in him, Dean opened up the door again. The cat was waiting outside and tried to shove its way past him. Angrily, Dean grabbed it by the scruff of its neck. He locked the cat up in the kitchen. The people who owned the house would be back soon enough, they could let it out.

The bathroom next to the kitchen had a first aid kit. He grabbed it and ran back to the dining room. Sam was still slumped down, only this time he was unconscious. Dean cursed under his breath.

With great care, he removed the jacket Sam had on, wincing at the slashes that raked the back. Another jacket down for Sam…

Dean gently dropped it to the side, then had to take off the tiny t-shirt his brother had on. He maneuvered the small, fragile arms so they didn’t get caught as he stripped it off. Sam’s body was limp as Dean held him up, shifting his brother so he was lying facedown on the hand.

Four bright red lines stretched across the hunter’s lean back. Blood caked every part of him, more welling up as Dean watched. Hurriedly, he pressed a wet rag against the cuts, wiping off the blood and covering them up while he got an alcohol pad ready. “This is going to hurt,” he warned his brother’s unconscious form before pressing it against the cuts.

Knocked out or not, Sam writhed in pain at the contact. Dean bit his lip, forcing himself to not move. He stroked it down the cuts, cleaning off more blood and sterilizing the wounds. Dabbing a wet paper towel against Sam’s back cleaned off the rest of the blood before he decided to try wrapping it.

With one hand occupied, Dean had to use his teeth to rip the gauze and start unraveling it. Once he had enough, he put a sterile cloth against Sam’s back and began to steadily wrap the gauze around the other hunter, trying to avoid making it too tight. He sighed when he was finished, carefully checking his work to make sure he’d covered the full injury.

Sam started to shiver, from cold and blood loss. Dean cupped him against his chest. “It’s okay, Sammy. You’re gonna be okay, I promise.”

( Part 1 )

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The Cat

BA Canon: No

Timeline: After The Schism of Fire and Water

Original Post: Sam Verses Cat ( you wanted Dean, here he comes! This will be a little bonus prompt )

( Part 1 of 2 )

Dean paced through the house, searching for any sign of a spirit. The EMF reader was silent in his hand as he went, taunting him with its silence.

Dean grumbled, hitting it on the side in annoyance. Was it acting up? Surely there was a spirit at work…

His thoughts trailed off when at the edge of hearing he heard a cat yowl. Dread started to creep up on him.

Sam was in that direction.

Dean sprinted down the hall, almost skidding past the door that the noises were coming from. To his great relief, the cat wasn’t sitting there with a bloody set of clothes in its claws, but it was trying to swipe at something hidden behind the cabinet.

Dean stalked over, grabbing the cat by the nape of its neck and hauling it off the ground. He tossed it out of the room, sealing the door shut. Upset meows made it through the wooden door.

Putting that out of his mind, Dean walked carefully over to the cabinet to see what the cat had trapped. Getting down on his knees, he dug out his flashlight and shone it into the crack.

A small, huddled form flinched away from him and the light, a tiny silver knife at the ready. “Sammy,” Dean breathed. “Thank god you’re okay.”

There was no answer to his voice, no sign that Sam even heard him. Dean’s brow furrowed in concern. “Sam,” he tried again. “Can you walk? I can’t reach you back there.”

With no response still, Dean was getting worried. “Alright,” he muttered to himself. “I’m gonna assume that means you can’t come out here on your own. Hang on, kid.”

Getting up, Dean grabbed the dishware on top of the cabinet, dropping it all on the table. He gripped the side of the cabinet, shifting it away from the wall to put Sam in reach.

The moment Sam was in sight, Dean stooped to pick him up. Before the older hunter could react, a cold metal blade slashed at his hand, Sam lashing out in a panic.

“Crap, Sam. It’s me!” Dean hissed. He stuck his thumb in his mouth for a second for the bleeding, snatching at Sam with his other hand. The fingers curled around the small hunter, trapping the knife-wielding arm between Dean’s index finger and middle finger.

Dean gently pried the knife from Sam’s grip. “Sammy, it’s me. It’s just Dean. You’re safe, I promise. That cat’s nowhere near us right now. I took care of it.”

After a few minutes of cajoling, Sam finally peered up at Dean. His small eyes were wide, panicked. The look of a hunted animal. “D-Dean?” he stuttered out.

“That’s right. Just me.” Dean took a seat at the dining room table, unfurling his fingers.

The reason for Sam’s panic was revealed.

Blood coated Dean’s hand where it had wrapped around Sam’s back.

“Fuck.”

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Dean Rescues Sam

BA Canon: No || AU

Timeline: 1993 (Dean is 14; Sam is 10)

(Part 2 of 4)

The first thing Sam became aware of was the rushing of the ocean.

The world shifted with him, gently rising and falling like the tides. Sam’s eyes fluttered for a moment, then settled closed again. The warmth that surrounded him on all sides was soothing and calming. A pulse beat through him, inviting him back to sleep.

Slowly awareness began to return. Flashes and visions hit his mind. The door, breaking down. Dean shouting. A flash of light… and then nothing. Cold eyes framed by blonde hair stared ruthlessly down at him as the blast hit.

That did it.

Sam startled awake with a shout, throwing his arms up defensively. The ground under him stopped moving suddenly, the gentle rise and fall freezing completely.

Sam gasped in a breath, trying to remember what had happened. Where he was.

“Sammy?” came a groggy voice. It rumbled under him this time, making up his entire world.

In the darkness of the room, shapes started to coalesce. Lurking, powerful monuments. Looming figures. His pulse went up as he realized he had no idea where he was.

“D-Dean?” he called out cautiously. At least the voice was familiar if the sensation of the booming volume it talked in wasn’t.

The ground under him started to shift. “Lemme get a light,” Dean mumbled.

Sam froze as what it all meant started to sink in.

The light snapping on overhead gave his horror form. He wasn’t sleeping on the ground. The ocean waves weren’t bobbing him up and down.

He was on Dean.

Sam was crouched on Dean’s chest, the older boy only partially awake as he rubbed at his eyes. And Dean didn’t seem surprised at the fact that his younger brother, less than three inches tall, was on his chest.

Sam watched the massive arms soar overhead as Dean yawned. With his eyes closed for that one fatal second, Dean didn’t see the panic rise in Sam’s eyes. He missed the small body tense.

Sam bolted.

Within seconds, Sam was sliding down the sheet Dean was lying under. His mind was speeding through priorities. Find Dean, find Dad, get away from any giants. Nothing in him would allow the thought that the giant he’d left behind was, in fact, Dean, and that John would be even more gargantuan.

Dean shouted in surprise. “Sammy, wait!”

Sam tried to dodge a hand that grabbed at him, but it was so much faster that the fingers closed relentlessly around him before he could escape. He struggled, trying to dig out the knife Dean had given him a few months ago. If he’d ever needed protection, now was the time.

Dean was too fast for him again. Those fingers sealed Sam’s arms to his sides, keeping him helpless.

Sam trembled as he was lifted into the air, staring up at the huge eyes of his captor. Dean’s expression softened at the fear in his brother’s eyes. The fingers uncurled, setting Sam free on his palm. “Sam, it’s me, I promise. It’s Dean. You got hit by that witch, but I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Minutes stretched out, an eternity of time. Sam’s breathing started to slow enough for him to catch sight of the rest of the room around them. A room that was made for Dean’s size. Not Sam’s.

He huddled down into the hand, terrified of everything around him. In the blink of an eye his entire world was torn away, replaced with massive monuments, towering structures he would never reach. Even a light switch was beyond his grasp.

Everything but Dean.

The hands shifted with him, cupping him against a tall chest. The rushing sound of the ocean filled Sam’s ears once more. The sound of his brother’s immense breaths, moving through lungs that now dwarfed all of Sam. He shuddered again as he let himself cower into the safety Dean provided simply by being there.

“Dean, what happened? What’s gonna happen to me?”

( Part 1 )