Tag: borrowers

After the Hunt

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A Brothers Found short story.

It was the light that woke him.

Sam Winchester, cursed to live at four inches in height, was not used to waking up to bright sunlight in his room. For years, he’d lived under the floorboards in the Trails West with his adopted family, staring up at what little light managed to trickle between the floorboards. The dark confines of their home were warm and safe, welcoming for the people who were smaller than a hand.

So opening his eyes to a brightly lit open space was the last thing Sam expected to see.

Looking around the room didn’t clear things up for him. His memories of the night before were still fuzzy and unfocused, mixing up with the varied dreams he’d had. Sam sucked in a gasp of surprise when he saw a massive human lying in a bed only a foot away, peaceful breaths of air drawn into lungs bigger than Sam… or his bed… or even his home.

Sam curled his legs closer, trying to make himself as small as possible while his mind raced. What had happened? He didn’t remember getting caught… at least not since Jacob first got his hands on him.

Then he spotted Jacob lying in the other bed, his face just as relaxed as the other man’s, and the memories came rushing back.

A bit of the tension unwound from Sam’s back. That man lying so close by was Dean. Sam’s determination had lead him and Jacob to the hunter’s doorstep, culminating in a reunion that was long overdue. Sam calmed his breathing and did his best to relax, repeating to himself that he was with his older brother, and Dean would never let anything happen to him.

That fact was clearly underlined by Dean’s reaction to the bruises covering Sam’s torso. It was the outcome of a mistake by Jacob, holding Sam just a little too tight, and the teenager was repentant. He’d helped Sam and driven the cursed man over eight hours to find his older brother, and so Sam had forgiven him.

Dean was a harder sell, especially only seconds after discovering Sam was alive. Sam had prevented Dean from putting more than an impressive bruise on the kid, and had a feeling that if he’d let Dean keep going, Jacob would have been tossed out of the room with no other thanks.

There was a shifting on the bed Dean was sleeping on, and Sam found himself curling more of the blanket– which, when he looked down at what he was sitting on, discovered it to be a black t-shirt– around himself so he didn’t feel so exposed.

Green eyes blinked tiredly open and Sam could swear his neck tingled as they glanced around at the room. It was a full minute before comprehension fell over Dean’s face, and he saw Sam sitting there, arms around his knees and trying his best to hide in plain sight.

“Hey,” Dean said softly. His eyes briefly flicked to Jacob to make sure he was asleep, then back to Sam. “How you feelin,’ pint-size?”

Nerves or not, Sam couldn’t hide a roll of his eyes at the nickname he had a feeling Dean would never give up on. At least, not from the look in his eyes. “I’m fine,” he said, more insistent than he meant to be. A doubtful look crossed Dean’s face, and Sam knew he wasn’t hiding his nerves as well as he thought.

Sam hunched his shoulders. “Just… not used to being out in the open like this,” he said hesitantly. It felt like he was admitting a weakness.

Understanding filled Dean’s eyes, and the hard look that always seemed to be on his face softened. “You fell asleep after the hunt,” he said in an attempt to explain. “I… wasn’t sure where else to… put you.”

The same hesitation filled Dean’s voice, and Sam realized his older brother had no better idea about how they were supposed to handle things than he did. For some reason, that made him feel a little better. He might not know what he was doing, but neither did Dean.

“Maybe…” Dean was scanning the room while he talked. “I’m sure we can find somewhere hidden for you to stay. Y’know… if you wanted to.”

Sam looked into those green eyes, trying to ignore the way they were the size of his head, and saw hope, and fear, and nerves that almost equaled his own. He remembered the night before, when Dean almost didn’t want to believe that Sam was back.

“Of course I want to stick around,” Sam said, his voice so soft that Dean found himself leaning in. Sam twined his fingers together, focusing on them more than the gigantic hunter. “I just… should get my stuff from my home. I didn’t say goodbye to anyone there when we left. Wasn’t… really sure we’d actually find you.”

“Well, you found me,” Dean said, grinning at Sam. After a second of contemplation, he moved his arm and Sam found a hand reaching towards him. He tried to not flinch, but stiffened completely and squinted his eyes shut.

Something large touched the top of his head, then lightly ruffled his hair. Sam opened up his eyes to see Dean’s hand already retreating back to his side and realized it had only been a fingertip.

“You’ll have a hard time losing me, ever again.”

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August 29th excerpt:

To the side, he saw something that usually drew him like a moth to a lantern. Breadcrumbs, left behind by some previous meal. On a normal day Oscar would be gathering each tiny piece in his bag, just in case it was all he’d find.

“I found another piece of that bread on the floor earlier, before you came in,” he announced, looking back up at Dean. “I …” He stopped abruptly and felt his cheeks flush. That piece of bread wasn’t on the floor anymore. Oscar had it stowed in his bag, and he’d more or less just admitted to Dean that he took something from the room.

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No worries about spoilers over here! In fact, out of all three of the curse victims we have in our AUs (Dean, Sam and Jacob), Jacob is the slowest.

Compared to the brothers, he has the least experience. He also tends to be more deliberate in his actions, and is the least likely to jump into things without thinking (or looking). He won’t be breaking any of Sam’s records for a long, long time.

Here’s an excerpt with our smol Jacob trying to keep up with his adopted brother Sammy!

When Sam darted towards the table, Jacob was quick to follow. As he ran he took his grappling rope from where he’d propped it on his shoulder and got a solid grip around the hook so it didn’t bounce against him as he ran. He felt his pulse pounding in his hands. The open air yawned above them, but Jacob managed not to gape around at everything as he ran.

Focus. Focus was key.

He stumbled to a stop at the base of the table. Staring straight up, Jacob uncoiled the twine in his hands. He knew without looking that Sam was doing the same with his own grappling line, a fishhook and some clear, sturdy fishing line. Jacob reared back, ready to throw his hook straight into the air, following the example Sam and Walt had set time and time again. At least this was something Jacob had figured out how to do fairly quickly; ever since shrinking, he’d found he was a lot stronger than he’d expect, and throwing something like a small hook up to the table was easy for him.

Of course, getting the hook that high was only half the battle. While Sam’s grappling hook caught on the edge of the table, Jacob’s bounced off it and fell back down. “Fuckdammit,” he swore, gathering up the twine to try again.

Sam was already well ahead of him. Thankfully, the hook caught on the second throw, and Jacob could begin his cautious climb upwards. He was more careful, less sure of himself, so he took more time to squirrel his way up to the table. Jacob always kept his focus on the rope in front of him, praying his grip never wavered.

Sam reached the top of the table in no time, hauling himself over the edge. He did a brief check of how secure the grip of his and Jacob’s hooks were, making sure that Jacob’s wouldn’t slip on him. They’d leave the hooks at the ready for the trip down, or for any emergencies. It was a bad idea to remove their only escape path. Climbing down the legs of the table with nothing more than hands and feet was a dangerous and slow venture, not one to risk if it could be avoided.

He waited by the edge while Jacob made his way to the top, surveying the room from above. Getting such a point of view was rare, and was something that needed to be taken advantage of when possible.

When Jacob reached the top, Sam offered him a hand to help him over the edge. He eyed the immense door at the other end of the room while he did so, narrowing his eyes at the serene sunlight that filtered its way into the room.

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Strictly speaking, they don’t. A few of the small communities might have beliefs of their own that they hold to, much like humans have many different religions, but there is no overarching mythos that they ascribe to.

This lack is tied into how they came to be, and that will be touched on in a future BA story 😉 The origin of the so-called borrowers will be revealed.

Thanks so much! Comments like this brighten MY day! : D

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They’d deal with it a lot like humans in the past – if it happens, it happens. They might get forewarning from televisions or humans in the area, and if they do they might be able to hitch a ride out of there. Otherwise, they’ll deal with it as it comes. Disaster hits, pick up the pieces of their lives afterwards and then life goes on.

This does mean that if a volcano goes off close by, there’s a chance the entire civilization that lives in the area might be wiped off the map.

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nightmares06:

81. Thunder

An echo of thunder rolled around Sean, and he dove underneath the scraps of fabric that made up his ‘nest.’

Standing at only three inches in height, the young boy blinked out at the world from his protective cocoon, huge tears flowing from his eyes. This was wrong. Everything was wrong, and he was scared.

Summoned by the yelp he’d heard, Walt Watch limped around the doorway that lead to the room Sean was staying in. The older man held his side tenderly, and Sean remembered hearing that his entire home had caved in on him, knocking him just out of range of a fire that raged. Walt was as lucky as Sean to be alive.

But at least he was used to being small.

“Hey, there,” Walt said, sitting next to Sean’s protective fort. “How are you hanging in?”

Sean said nothing, just blinked blearily at the older man. Another rumble of thunder came, this time with the rhythmic sounds of footsteps accompanying it. That made him dive down, out of sight. He hated the reminder of how small they were.

Walt put a hand on the top of the piled-up fabric. Krissy and Bennett had given up the extra room for Sean, since he wasn’t used to sharing with anyone the way they were. They were staying in the same room as their mother, and Walt had the room next to Sean’s. The young boy reminded him so much of Sam all those years ago. Afraid and alone and lonely. Forced to confront realities that no child deserved.

“Look, they don’t know we’re here,” Walt said wisely. “They won’t hear us, they won’t bother us. Sam once told me that humans had a way of getting through thunderstorms if young children were afraid. He said to just think of it as God getting a shower, and the thunder as his footsteps. Those humans up there are the same. Just walking around, minding their own business.”

Sean peeked out at Walt. “B-but if they find us…” he said in a half-moan of fear.

Walt ruffled his hair. “They won’t,” he promised. “We’ve got a safe home here. Besides, if it wasn’t for humans, we wouldn’t have much to eat, now, would we?”

Sean blinked back at him, looking unconvinced.

“If you want, I can stick around for a bit,” Walt offered. “Staying in a strange place all alone can be scary.”

Sean rubbed his eyes. “I’d like that,” he said shyly. “It’s just all so… different…”

“Sam said the same thing when we first found him,” Walt nodded. Sean’s wide eyes encouraged him to continue. Though Sean had never met Sam, he’d heard all about his rescuer from Krissy and Bennett. “He was just about your age back then…”

Walt told stories about Sam’s first days cursed until Sean couldn’t hold his eyes open any longer, and the young boy drifted off to sleep.

Oscar Meets Jacob (5/5)

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neonthewrite:

Reading Time: ~5-10 minutes

(x)

“Oscar,” Jacob repeated. The shift in the tension in the air was palpable. Even though the little guy was curled up warily on the table, getting a name out of him felt like a step forward. A tiny step forward, but it was better than watching him cry and not knowing if he was hurt. Knowing he caused those tears had sent Jacob reeling.

“I’m Jacob,” he replied, allowing the faintest smile to cross his face. “Where, um, where did you come from, Oscar?”

Oscar shrugged, the tiniest little shoulders Jacob had ever seen, and wiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I always lived here,” he replied. His voice was still rough from his crying, but it wavered less than before.

“And you came to get food,” Jacob mused. Holy shit. He couldn’t help but think of how desperate Oscar must have been to climb his backpack for food, if someone Jacob’s size inspired this much terror. Was the little guy living out of that bag with nothing else to his name?

Keep reading

Oscar Meets Jacob (4/5)

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neonthewrite:

Reading Time: ~5-10 minutes

(x)

Oscar’s shuddering never stopped. His heart pounded in his little chest and he had his arms tucked close to his chest while he gripped the strap of his cloth bag in terror. Wide eyes stared up at the human and waited for one of those enormous hands to return.

Oscar couldn’t stop anything that happened to him. He was too small.

“B-but I …” he began weakly, only to falter again. He took a slow, rattling breath and felt the telltale sting of more tears in his eyes. The human had asked him not to run off. Would he stop Oscar from trying? “I-I just … I don’t …”

Keep reading

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nightmares06:

23. Flowers

How could he?

Mallory found herself accidentally ripping the fabric in her aggravation, instead of her nimble fingers slipping between the threads to coax them apart. Dethreading like this was the best way to get workable string, that wasn’t too thick for their delicate skin. Coarse fabric might be fine for humans, with their impervious skin, but it would chafe a person Mallory’s size.

Walt had the audacity to tell her that she needed to stay in the house. As though he couldn’t stay home for once and watch their toddling daughter, only just now taking her first steps.

Bree sat to the side on the floor, enthralled with the fabric toy Mallory had made for her. She hefted it up with a quiet squeal of enjoyment, her mouth widening in a toothy grin. She already had all her front teeth, and the back ones were starting to peek out.

It wasn’t that Mallory didn’t love spending time at home with her daughter. It was the fact that Walt always wanted to keep her inside. He never brought home the right colors for fabric, and she just wanted a chance to go out searching for herself. She could always just leave one night, she supposed, but that wasn’t fair to anyone. At least she knew that Walt was going to be out. He would fret if she vanished, but they couldn’t leave their daughter alone to search.

A scraping sound came from the entrance to their small home under the floorboards, and Mallory glanced up. Walt could be seen coming in with a sheepish look on his face. His hands were tucked behind his back.

Mallory stuck her nose up and turned back to her fabric.

She did her best to ignore him as he came over to her, one hand gently stroking down her back. He gave her neck a kiss, and she tried to squirm away, refusing to let him win his way back so easily.

“I thought things over,” Walt whispered, and that caught her attention. His voice was truly contrite.

She turned to him to grace him with a raised eyebrow and a severe look on her face.

Walt knelt down, his right hand still behind his back. “I talked to Katrine,” he said honestly, but continued before she could berate him for going to her best friend behind her back. “She is going to watch Bree for us tomorrow, so we can go out.” He gave her a hesitant, hopeful smile, pulling his hand from behind his back to reveal a purple snapdragon.

Mallory gasped in surprise as her hands flew to her mouth. The scent that washed over her meant it was a real flower, carefully gathered from outside where the motel they made their home in planted its gardens.

She took it carefully, stroking the soft surface of the flower petal.

“I don’t want to keep you locked up inside,” Walt said, his blue eyes full of remorse. “I just don’t want the humans finding you. You don’t even have a way to defend yourself! I need you – we need you. So… I’m sorry?”

Mallory sighed, and wrapped her arms around him to forgive him. She planted a soft kiss on his lips before nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “So where are we going while Kat watches Bree?” she asked, a pleased smile on her face.

Walt put two hands on her shoulders, pushing her away so they could look into each other’s eyes. “I was thinking we could spend some time under the overhang,” he said, his eyes glittering with mischief.

The overhang was one of three places in the motel that they could actually sit outside and watch the world pass them by. Fresh air, the wind on their faces, and enough cover to keep out of sight of any birds of prey that might hover around. Too high up for the humans on the ground to see them. There was another place Walt knew of, one he hadn’t shown her, that he used for his leatherwork. He would stretch out the hides of any rats he found and killed in the motel and leave them to tan.

They’d lived there since before it was a motel, back when Trails West was simply a bed and breakfast. Walt knew the layout of the place better than anyone alive, better than even the humans. He knew where to tap into the water so no one would notice, he knew (and had built, as the humans built) many ways in and out of the rooms near where they lived.

“That sounds wonderful,” Mallory said, leaning her head against his chest and listening to his heart beat. It helped calm her, and took away the rest of her anger from earlier.

Bree giggled over in her place on the floor, and tossed her fabric up.