March 22nd excerpt:

“Really, Dean?” Sam asked, gesturing at the boots that were up on the covers.

“What are you, my mother?” Dean griped. When Sam’s bitchface didn’t relent, he rolled his eyes with a glare of his own sent Sam’s way.

Fine,” he said snippily, giving in. Jacob smirked at the back-and-forth, enjoying the normalcy to be found in the banter. He was even tempted to play devil’s advocate and point out that it wasn’t like Dean’s boots could get the old motel room covers any dirtier.

Dean pulled off the boots, one after the other, and lightly tossed them towards his duffel lying next to the dresser the television was on. “Okay, new rule. Sam doesn’t get to pick the movie,” he announced with a smirk sent in Sam’s direction.

February 14th excerpt:

Bowman had to right himself at the bottom of the jar. Once it was upright again, he’d rolled backwards and landed on one of his own wings, arms flailing to find something to brace against.

“Hey! Watch it…” his voice died from an indignant shout almost immediately once he pushed himself up. With the jar on the ground, his first view was of a pair of enormous boots crushing a few stray leaves beneath their weight. Following the human’s height upwards, his eyes widened. Dean was huge, especially seen from the ground.

February 12th excerpt:

I am in so much trouble.

The despairing thought rang through the many panicked fragments in Bowman’s mind. On either side and overhead, his view was blocked by the pattern of the shirt that Dean wore. With the jar tucked under an arm, Bowman didn’t have a chance to really see where they were taking him. Fate had given him an extra dose of the unfair by making sure the giants’ arms were thicker around than he was tall.

Thanks to the tilt, the bottom of the jar was behind him and the curved wall beneath. Bowman could see the forest floor, and the effect that Dean’s boots had on it. Those boots had to be the size of a small house.

With his hands braced on the glass, Bowman felt like the world was so close, just beyond his reach. He was captured and he didn’t know what would happen to him. He couldn’t even warn the village of the threat wandering the woods.

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.

June 11th excerpt:

“Mallory even went so far as to make us clothes like we used to wear.” Dean plucked at his jeans. “Believe it or not, leather jackets and jeans ain’t exactly popular down here.”

“Or duffel bags,” Sam chimed in. “But boots are. Everyone’s got a pair but our adopted mom.”

Flashback

( 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 23rd excerpt:

Dean narrowed his eyes, then stalked towards Jacob’s side. “You all owe me some pie after that scare,” he griped as he started to scale up the human, digging his boots into Jacob more forcefully than normal. There was no way he was going to let Sam hang out in a hand all on his own after all that.

Jacob’s eyebrows shot up as he felt the little kicks in his side from Dean’s climb. He didn’t complain, however, letting the small hunter get his point across in his own way. Dean had been in worse moods before, after all. He kept an eye on Dean’s progress, making sure he wouldn’t accidentally knock him off balance and focusing on not twitching each time a tiny boot dug into his side.

February 2nd excerpt:

The sharp sound of someone clearing his voice came from behind, and Dean twisted around in surprise. Sam was standing on the edge of the shelf with a disapproving frown on his face. A boot dangled from each hand.

“What are you, my mother?” Dean griped.