Tag: briella watch

To Protect a Family

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AU: Brothers Apart

Timeline: Before Bree is taken

Walt nearly held his breath, his eyes locked on his target.

Sitting not one foot from where he was crouched in hiding, the dustbunnies looming over his head, a gleam of metal could be seen sticking out from underneath a bag casually dropped there by the room’s resident human.

Soon that man would leave, and Walt was banking on that man leaving behind the forgotten razor, a discard from his exacto-knife that meant nothing to the human but could mean the difference between life or death to the much smaller man.

Slow breath out, careful breath in.

Use the silence as a cloak. Walt’s hair, normally so vibrantly blond, was dark and dirty, coated in dust and dirt from the walls. His fair skin was the same, making him hard to spot in his black and brown clothing. Mallory had just made it, his darkest set for his supply runs. He was just a shadow in the dark, able to see his surroundings better than any human ever could in the shadows.

The creak of the floorboards under the human’s gargantuan weight heralded the man coming back over to the beds. A shadow fell over Walt’s surroundings, making him fade even more into the darkness. He shut his mouth tight, holding his breath.

The man never spotted Walt hiding there, or the discarded razor left behind. He merely grabbed his backpack off the ground, slinging it onto his arms with quick motions that would sent Walt flying, and headed for the door.

And that was it.

Walt remained in hiding for another ten minutes, waiting out the human. The roar of an engine was heard outside the door, and that quickly faded into the distance. Another human, off on another day of unimaginable activities and actions. Walt didn’t know what humans did with their time, but he knew what they did in the motel. It all seemed so calm compared to the fight he lived each and every day to keep his Mallory and Bree safe and sound.

Darting into the open, he scooped up the razor and tucked it into his jacket. Tonight he could check how sharp the edges were, and use the sharpening stones he’d slowly gathered to hone it into a weapon. Rats always tried to encroach on their home, and with this he now had a worthy weapon, ready to fight them off and protect his family.

One word prompts open for all three admins! Check out the list and drop us a word and a character!

Send some in for us to work on over the holiday break!

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Oh dear, boop the cuties.

That really depends on the little in question. For instance, Bree isn’t going to mind one bit. She’s used to contact with humans, and considers it completely normal. Oscar, on the other hand, has never really had close contact with humans and is always baffled when Dean insists on messing with his mousy hair.

Dean as a little will be completely offended that someone is messing with his spike, while Sam is resigned, considering how often Dean fluffs it into a mess. Dean’s way of saying you should really cut this.

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Artwork by @mogadeer

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Sam: I think I’ll just stick with hands unless they really need the magnifying glass…

Dean: No one’s getting close to me with a magnifying glass, not so long as they want to keep that hand. This knife ain’t made to just look pretty, y’know.

Jacob: Magnifying glass and tweezers? Dude. That’d suck. No matter how careful they are, I don’t know if they’ll slip or pinch me. It’d feel like they were trying to do science or something.

Bowman: I’d really prefer neither. I can take care of myself better than any giant. But if I have to choose, I would prefer they just use their hands. That way they can feel if I need to kick them to keep ‘em in line!

Oscar: Um… They’d both make me really nervous. I don’t … I don’t know! I-I guess … the magnifying glass would be less crowded.

Bree: What’s wrong with hands and having their face close? I think the metal tweezers sounds so much worse!

Zepheera: Wow, er…really glad I heal too quickly to need help like that. I guess if I had the choice, I’d rather not have a great big face in my personal space. And as long as I trusted those hands, I’d go with those. Tweezers are no fun.

Jacob, Bowman and Oscar © @neonthewrite

Briella Watch © @nightmares06

Zepheera © @borrowedtimeandspace

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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.

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nightmares06:

45. Dreaming

Three strokes. Flip. Four strokes. Flip.

Alone in her small dollhouse, Bree contented herself counting the time as she brushed her hair. The Mangas family was out for the day, at some park or another, and Briella Watch was left on her own to pass the time.

Only a passing thought was given to the people she knew were in the storage room, waiting to be sold. She couldn’t think too much about them, there was nothing she could do. She was sealed away, trapped in a house inside a room with all entrances to the walls sealed off.

This family knew the tricks, after all.

Three strokes. A quick flip of her hair, and a garishly pink doll hairbrush went through the strands of golden hair while Bree stared into the clouds outside the window. Long eyelashes closed, and a tear hid at the side of her eye.

People were trapped, and she was up here, with her head in the clouds. Every night, she was plagued by thoughts of what could have been. Her only release was in sleep, in dreams of her old home with her mother and her father. Mallory’s constant smile at her while she took her first steps, Walt’s stern pride as he taught her how to climb.

Every night, she saw their faces in her dreams and they pushed back the dark cloud that hung over her head. She had to hide it, though. Beth couldn’t know what she was thinking.

They couldn’t take away her dreams.

Four strokes. Flip.

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nightmares06:

Oh, what a good number for Walt.

36. New

A thin scream pierced the darkness.

Walt quickly had to pull his hand out of Mallory’s grip, shifting to cover her mouth and stifle her cries. Noise was dangerous, noise could get them all caught or killed.

Normally, Mallory knew this as well as Walt, but right now she was beyond caring.

“Shhh, shhh…” Walt comforted his little wife, carefully cupping his hand under her small chin to tilt her face towards him. “You’re doing great, sweetheart.”

Mallory’s shoulders shook, and tears ran down her face, but she met Walt’s piercing, blue-eyed gaze with her own. Her face was red, and her hair was streaked with sweat.

“Give her this,” Katrine said, bustling over to press a moist torn shred of a paper towel into Walt’s hands. “On the forehead, cool her down.” She grinned at Mallory. “He’s right, you’re doing great,” she cooed, long years showing in the lines on her face. “Brennan will be back with food for everyone.”

Walt dabbed the cloth against Mallory’s face, brushing the sweat away. He pushed away any of his fears for her, knowing how dangerous labor could be. If he’d known it was like this, he wouldn’t have wanted her pregnant, or to risk her frail constitution. But when Mallory had been Katrine’s midwife earlier that year for the quiet Krissy, they’d kept both the men busy and out of the house.

The next contraction hit, but this time Mallory held in her cry. Her body seized up, almost writhing.

“Walt, hold her down! Don’t let her get hurt!” Katrine commanded severely.

Walt took Mallory’s hand again, letting her slim fingers grab onto his and clench with all her might. Another contraction hit, and then…

A little cry came from where Katrine was, and she straightened with a tiny bundle in her arms, wrapped in the blue and pink cloth Mallory had made just for the occasion. With expert ease, Katrine swaddled the child up and gave Walt a brilliant smile.

“It’s a girl.”

Walt almost didn’t breathe as the tiny bundle was placed into his arms. Mallory slumped down into herself, almost shrinking into the nest of fabric they’d set up for her.

“Did you hear that?” Walt asked, his face glowing as he looked from the tiny child to his young wife. “It’s a girl. Briella, that’s Mallory, your mom.”

Mallory opened her eyes slowly, and managed a smile of her own. Walt knelt on the floor, and held the baby out to Mallory.

“You did it,” he whispered proudly.

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They’d love Sam all the same. After seeing how him and Dean are with the others that were captured, Walt realized that size really didn’t matter when it came to his adopted sons… because after everything else, he’s adopted Dean as surely as he adopted Sam. They just don’t quite realize it.

There would be a lot of shock, and it might be bittersweet to see Sam ‘regular’ sized after all those years raising him up as one of their own. And Sam would be sad to realize he could never go home again, because he’d never fit. But he’d be where he belonged, with his brother, and he’d never forget them. 

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Oh, and with this prompt you’ve stumbled onto another ‘secret’ project of mine. It’s actually been in progress for a bit now, working on a storyline with Sam being discovered before Dean ever reached Trails West. Here’s a snippet from the story, arriving sometime after summer, 2016:

In. Out. What could go wrong?

Sam knew he was in trouble the moment the shadows above shifted.

A prickle went up his neck. Shit… Sam thought to himself. He pushed his legs to run even harder, desperate to get out of sight. Either he’d overestimated his ability at staying silent or he’d underestimated the human.

Whichever it was, he was in trouble.

A shadow fell over him. Gasping, the cracker tumbled out of his hands as he tried to get that last ounce of speed that would get him behind the nightstand and back to safety. Just a little more… Like Walt always said, a bit of food wasn’t worth any of their lives.

If only Sam had listened to his advice and hadn’t been so overconfident.

A huge hand snatched at him. It was too fast for Sam to even hope to dodge. He was fumbling at his jacket, trying desperately to yank out his knife even as a thumb and four massive fingers relentlessly closed around his body.

And then it was too late.

Sam’s arms were sealed to his side, his knife inexorably out of reach the moment the hand closed around him. Desperate struggles were muffled in the thick skin that surrounded his body. It was like none of his movements could make an effect.

The world dropped away beneath him, receding into the distance as Sam was yanked into the air. He let out a desperate gasp, unable to concentrate as his surroundings spiraled around him. The human was shifting him to an easier position to see.

As the light clicked on, Sam almost went blind at first. His eyes, so well-adjusted to the darkness in the walls, had difficulty focusing in the bright light of the room, especially when it was completely unexpected. Sam tried to flinch back, then twitched in the other direction when he saw a huge thumb brush over his shoulder. He shivered, realizing how helpless he was in this human’s hands.

Sam could see every ridge, every crevice in the hand curled around him. Nothing he did could loosen up his arms. His satchel was crushed into his side, and his scared hazel eyes stared up at the huge human, afraid of what would happen to him. Walt’s voice echoed in his head, reminding him how it was almost impossible to escape a human after being caught.

They’d never been able to rescue Bree…

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Any theories on who caught Sam? Any ideas for what’s about to happen? Feel free to share!

Sam and his cracker commissioned from @mogadeer. Do not get between Sam and his cracker! Do not!