With that said, he finally slid the last length down to Dean’s hand. Giant, Jacob-sized fingers were curled up, creating a net for him to land safely in. Jacob wasted no time lifting the cuff of Dean’s sleeve as much as he could. Part of it was held down by the ropes.
“Aha!” he said triumphantly, practically diving into the sleeve. There was a blade tucked in between the shirt and jacket, just like Jacob thought. He grabbed the dull edge with both hands and planted his tiny boots on Dean’s wrist to give the hidden weapon a tug. It would be three quarters of Jacob’s length, perfect for sawing at the bindings.
The blade was big, but it was made to slide free with just a flick from Dean’s wrist, making it easy for Jacob to pull it out. The slight tickle against his wrist made Dean twitch under Jacob’s boots, but he didn’t rouse. There was only some slight flexing of those massive fingers before they relaxed.
#auv stands for An Unexpected Visitor! Certainly Dean never imagined who he would find sneaking about in his room, searching for food…
He was under the bed when he heard it.
A key, probably more than half Oscar’s height, sliding into the lock on the door. Ice surged through his veins and he froze. There was nothing else he could do.
Oscar had a view of the nightstand between the two beds, beyond a forest of dustbunnies, as the door creaked open. With agonizing slowness, a piece of wood impossibly tall and heavy for someone his size swung open to admit the human checked into the room. Oscar’s legs tensed. He’d gotten himself stuck in rooms with humans in them before, but it never got easier. He was too small.
Heavy footfalls that Oscar could never miss vibrated through the floor. Same usual routine; a few steps, then the percussive click of the door shutting. Oscar held his breath and stared straight ahead.
Something crashed onto the other bed, and before Oscar could glance in that direction, the entire world around him quaked. The bed frame and the mattress it supported both released noises of protest as the human crashed onto them. Thinking quickly before he could yelp in terror, the room’s hidden occupant lifted his hands and clamped them over his mouth. Oscar stared upwards at the underside of the mattress with wide brown eyes.
For a kid barely more than two inches tall, just a step could cause a small earthquake.
Oscar was used to the feeling of humans walking around. They were always stomping about as they got ready for something or other, and Oscar tried his best to keep himself well out of their way. He was still learning the routines, though, and hadn’t expected anyone in this room for some time.
It was hard to learn these things by himself, but he didn’t have any other options. Oscar’s mom was gone and she had been for a while. He had been seven when he last saw her, and he was eight now, he was sure. It was so hard to navigate a world so big by himself.
She would have known what to do in this situation. He was under the bed with a human in the room, and he didn’t have any exits into the walls. It was safer in there by far, where he could take quiet steps and keep to himself and the humans never bothered with it. They were giant, unpredictable people in most things, but at least they could be counted on to ignore the space that Oscar called home.
He glanced across the floor, past piles of dustbunnies and the wide expanse of worn out carpet. Past the second bed and the dresser was his vent, low in the wall.
It felt so far away. Oscar lowered his trembling hands from his face and took a slow, quiet breath. At least he knew how to be quiet.
He was frightened of the human above. Oscar had found a small, stale piece of a cracker. It was probably from the previous motel guest, but if this one found out he took it, he could be mad. Then he might want to hurt Oscar, and the tiny child would be helpless.
He crept towards the edge of the bed. His wrapped feet pushed softly through the dust piles until he was just at the edge of the bed. He stared straight up.
He almost ducked back immediately at the sight of a hand draped over the side. It wasn’t moving, so he took a slow breath instead. He could do this. All he had to do was move quickly and stay out of sight. So long as the human stayed up on that bed and slept, he’d be fine.
Biting his lip to steel himself, he clutched his bag closer. Then, he bolted across the space between the beds. All he had to do was dive under the other one, and he’d have a safe place to get closer to his vent.
Halfway out, he tripped on the thick carpet fibers. Stumbling, he toppled forward and landed on his front with a quiet Oof! that sent ice up his spine.
I didn’t want to spend the inevitable eons coloring this, since this is all about getting practice actually drawing the dang stuff, but it looked weird as just line art so have some grayscale. (Also I realize Sawyer does not look super stuck but believe me he is, the doorway is v smol. Plus all my lines are shaky but hey, I guess that’s why I’m practicing.)
This AU is the cutest thing ever. I really love it. X3 Charlie and Sawyer belong to me, Oscar belongs to @neonthebright.
Dean (as a human): My brother’s a borrower. *uses the nickname constantly*
Dean (as a smol): Fuck that borrower name, who the fuck came up with that shit. Stupid name. *pouts*
(( I was tagged in a post by @ghostquack over on deviantart here, but I decided to move it to tumblr since my journal is taken up by the contest I’m running! ))
Rules: Post these rules. Post 8 facts about your character. Tag 8 other characters. Post their names along with their creators’ avatars.
Moira is the adopted sister of Sam and Dean Winchester in the collab I’m doing with @borrowedtimeandspace, Brothers Consulted.
At eighteen years of age, she’s the youngest sibling in the family, so Sam and Dean always look out for her.
She’s 100% British, but her exposure to Sam and Dean for the majority of her life means that her accent occasionally picks up an American lilt.
With two older brothers around to help her get into trouble, she’s more of a tomboy than anything, always ready to go exploring.
After running into a kitten that set off Dean’s allergies (Stricken Sneezes), Moira grew fond of the cat as it aged. She goes back to visit from time to time to give him a treat or two that she found, and gives him scritches. She named him Wheezer for what he managed to do to Dean that first day.
She wears a pin by her side for protection. She won’t fight and kill a rat like Sam or Dean will, but jabbing at its eyes is often enough to deter an attack.
Dean gave her fighting lessons, just like Sam, from an early age to ensure she was able to handle herself.
Her family often insists she wears boots, but she’s a fan of slippers because it makes it easy to walk silently, and her dark hair lets her blend into the shadows.
Mark cried out in alarm as the hook sank its tooth in inches from where he was crouched. A second later, he felt the air shift behind him, and he whirled around to find the human peering at him through the gap in the chair.
“As far as I’m concerned, I’m the normal one in the car. It’s you two that are the giants. And I think I’m adorable.”
Stan had to laugh at that, light and friendly. He wasn’t ridiculing Dean’s perspective, but basking in the relaxed banter going on between them. Once he was assured Dean did exist, his next concern was how he would be to work with. He imagined someone so small would find human beings monstrously large.
Despite being outright called a giant by Dean, Stan didn’t feel like a monster at all.
Originally prompted from this post. This is another update on what Oscar’s up to in the Brothers Together AU. In this short, he’s about 18 years old.
Oscar was almost ready to doze off, but he forced himself to stay alert. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down in such a precarious spot. Even now, the shadows on the nearest wall shifted and moved with the humans in the room, humans that were only steps away from his hiding place at the most.
He stood behind the TV, feeling the constant buzz of electricity while someone on the other side of it reported the weather for the afternoon. Dust piled up there, on the surface of the dresser where no one usually bothered to look. It gave Oscar a better view of the table nearby, but it wasn’t as safe.
He usually waited down on the floor, underneath the dresser. In all of the motel rooms, under the dresser was the safest place. He was out of sight, and even the maids never had occasion to look down there.
Today, though, was special. Even the humans kept it marked on all of their calendars.
Oscar didn’t understand what it meant or why they celebrated it, but Thanksgiving came without fail every late fall, and he’d learned to capitalize on it as much as he could. With winter looming close and snow on the ground outside already, he needed to stock up on as much food as he could. Thanksgiving and the holiday close on its heels, Christmas, were the best opportunities for Oscar to gather supplies for the cold months.
They meant food and lots of it.
Food like the arrangement sitting barely a foot away from him, a salad tray crammed onto what little space the TV left on the dresser. Cheese, crackers, cucumbers, and carrots were within view just from there, and he could have sworn he saw tomatoes.
Fresh things were a rarity in the Knight’s Inn. Oscar would have to eat them quicker if he managed to snag some, but they would be worth it. He could store almost everything but the cheese to make it last.
Of course, he couldn’t make it out there just yet. There was a pair of humans across the room, watching the weather report absently. They had yet to return the lid to the food tray after sampling from it, but they hadn’t left the food unattended either. If Oscar tried for it now, he’d be in their line of sight.
A shudder ran down his spine. Oscar had only ever been caught once, and he couldn’t afford to risk letting it happen again. Next time, he might not find himself in the grasp of the one friendly human he’d ever meet.
Dean Winchester was long gone. Oscar hadn’t seen him or his younger brother Sam in ten years. Back then, they’d been torn away from him before he had a chance to even try to follow. They were unique, and he’d let them slip away by sleeping in one morning.
He was grateful for one thing. Oscar had made it to eighteen years of age, and he still had a spark of hope in his heart. Ten years hadn’t quite erased them from his memory, and when he found himself in need of cheering up, he could imagine Sam wandering into the walls to visit him in his house. Talking to him while he worked on his sewing, or coaxing him out into the open to visit Dean.
They were his only friends in the whole world. Oscar couldn’t remember what they sounded like, and their faces had become hazier in his memory every year, but they were still there. They’d always be there.
The bed creaked somewhere beyond the TV and Oscar flinched. He almost missed one human voice asking “You almost ready to go?” as one of the humans stood up.
A sleepy mumble was the only reply, and Oscar took a moment to calm his startled heart while there was a rustle of bedcovers and another creak. From the look of the shadows on the wall, one human had stood. The other had flopped over on the bed entirely, too comfortable to go.
There was a heavy sigh, a voice tinged with annoyance that sounded so much scarier from a giant human. “Fine, a few more minutes, but once I get out of the bathroom we’re going. Your aunt hasn’t seen you since last year.”
Oscar waited for a reply, but none came. The human that spoke walked across the room, his shadow stalking along the wall. When the bathroom door clicked shut, Oscar took his cue.
He edged towards the side of the TV hastily. One surreptitious glance around it showed that another human had indeed buried themselves in the covers on the bed, an ornery stand against going anywhere for Thanksgiving. Why they’d want to avoid such a feast was beyond him, but Oscar didn’t question it. Instead, he darted out into the open.
Leaving a hiding place always came with a burst of adrenaline that threatened to steal his balance away. Oscar had to fight to keep focused, and he did by fixing his eyes on the food arrayed in front of him. He’d waited for the day all year.
He skidded to a halt at the edge of the sampler tray and immediately grabbed an entire cracker from the top of the pile. He knew the routine; they never missed stuff like this. His other hand was already dragging a baby carrot closer before he set his bag down to start loading it up.
He had a spare bag that he used for days like this. It was larger than his usual cloth sling, but not as easy to carry. He had more room to stuff the cracker and carrot inside, and then stand up for a small piece of cheese to go along with it. Oscar worked fast, never taking more than one of any kind of food on the tray from what he could reach. He even managed to tug free a few small sprouts from a tuft of broccoli.
Next, he threw the flap over the top of his hoard of food and hoisted it up. His cloth shoes scrambled against the dusty dresser top as he turned and darted back to his hiding place in time for the bathroom door to swing open once more. He’d made it.
Oscar grinned and imagined showing off his haul to his friends. Sharing Thanksgiving with someone would be nice for once, but Oscar only had his memories to join him at his table once again. Despite the loneliness that stretched out behind him and on forever in front of him, he was grateful at least for that.
Brothers Apart 