January 12th excerpt
“So what’s the plan for the day?” Sam asked as he picked up his fork, starting in on his own food once it looked like Stan was settled.
“Researmph,” Dean mumbled around a piece of sausage, eliciting a glare from Sam when he talked with his mouth full.
The newest addition to the BAU crew is certainly in for a ride when we toss him into a world where he’s the smol. Give him hugs.
(Sketch by @mogadeer)
January 11th excerpt:
Sam shoo’d Dean away, keeping a tight grip on the food. “Wait your turn,” he scolded, setting up on the table.
Dean sank back into his seat, impatiently watching Sam pull out his acquisitions. Each brother got a cup of coffee, and the orange juice was placed to the side. The meals were similar; Dean’s ran heavier on the bacon and sausage end and Sam’s had more fruit, but for breakfast, it wasn’t bad. The lack of continental at the motel had seemed disappointing at first until they found a local diner that served at all times during the day. Good prices, decent food.
Sam portioned out a bit of everything on a napkin for Stan, filling the bottlecap from last night with OJ. “Maybe this’ll work better than the soda,” he said ruefully.
January 10th excerpt:
“Rule number one of exercise,” Dean instructed, pushing the cap over to Stan with a finger. “Drink a lot, especially if you’re feeling light headed. We can go through a few more stretches today if you’re up to it, but this is the kind of thing you want to build up slowly. It doesn’t happen all at once.”
January 4th excerpt:
The trip to grab food went without a hitch. Sam hovered his other hand over Stan to block him from sight of the attendant at the window. It was odd how peaceably Stan sat there, letting the brothers talk over him the entire time. If they didn’t address him directly, he didn’t go out of his way to catch their attention.
January 2nd excerpt:
Kneeling down, Sam motioned for Dean to keep watch. The older brother backed against the wall, standing next to where Sam flattened his hand against the ground to let Stan off.
“Be careful,” Sam cautioned in a whisper. “We’ll be right here. If I hear anyone coming, I’ll knock on the wall.”
January 1st excerpt:
With the music barely loud enough to be heard, Sam relaxed a little, lifting up his cupped hands to peer inside. “You okay?” he breathed, forming a crack with two fingers that was just big enough to make out Stan’s tiny form huddled inside.
Stan could feel the tension leaving Sam’s hands just before they lifted. The quieter, darker environment he found himself in helped him relax a little, too, and he lowered his hands and picked up his head to find concerned hazel eyes peeking in at him.
He felt heat rising in his neck, and he was grateful for the darkness of the little alcove Sam had made with his hands. Stan was pale by nature, and the slightest blush was obvious in his complexion. Ever since Dean had told him to calm down, he’d been trying to do just that, in the hopes of appeasing him and his brother. He could only hope that such skittish behavior would be forgiven.
December 26th excerpt:
Dropping to his knees, Sam had eyes only for Stan. He missed the way Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes above them, his hand wavering slightly under Stan in his distraction. A movement that Sam missed, so slight that it was barely perceptible for the human hunter.
“Hey there,” Sam said, his voice hushed so it was nearly a whisper. He flared his fingers open into a small wave. “My name’s Sam. That’s my brother Dean. What’s your name?” His voice remained level and even, doing what he could to lessen any intimidation to the smaller man. After being left in Dean’s pocket for so long, Sam doubted the guy would be thinking completely straight.
December 24th excerpt:
Overwhelmed, Stan began to sob silently. His hands moved from his ringing ears to hug his knees close as he wept into them, and again to cling to the pocket when the human moved. Still his tears flowed, becoming fearful as it sank in that his life was now in the hands of hunters.
December 23rd excerpt:
Stan grunted softly as he landed unceremoniously in the bottom of the pocket, but for a moment he was too shocked to move. The human had spared him, trapping him in what looked like a jacket pocket instead of killing him. Stan had to wonder why he was allowed to live, especially as he clung to the material around him to keep himself from being thrown around while the human moved.
Brothers Apart 