We’re pretty excited about this, too. There’s just so many possibilities for them all while growing up and when they’re adults. Sam gets the tolest teddy to watch out for (can you see kiddo Sam, not even three inches tall, sending Jake to time out? And Jacob going and pouting in the corner?), while Oscar has an ornery tol who’s pretty much impossible to ever completely tame. These boys are going to have some adventures and then some more!
There isn’t a full AU for it, but there was a prompt way back a year ago that I wrote for Dean (It was called Cursed Dean at the time). I probably won’t be able to find the time to do anything more with it, but there’s the possibility of a collaborative AU with neon where Sam is the tall one and Dean is the small one.
Dean’s hand went to his amulet, the memory of his younger brother, big hazel eyes staring hopefully at him as he opened the gift coming back as clear as day. He would never risk taking it off, afraid of losing it to an errant gust of air, or slipping into a crack to vanish forever.
After all, that same brother was now a towering giant, wherever he might be. If he found Dean, he would simply catch his older brother and drop him into a cage. Maybe worse, depending on the way their dad had trained him. Dean would cling to those memories like a lifeboat, knowing he’d never see Sam again.
Sammy…
Those memories would never leave him, but here and now he needed to stay sharp. He came up to the end of the vent, suspended up in the air almost six feet. The design of the motel had never made sense to him, but who was he to question it?
No one would listen to a man that stood under four inches tall.
Dean leaned against the grate, staring out into the immense motel room.
The vertigo hit him, as it always did, but this was more important than his fears or the thought of getting teased because he was afraid of heights. Those eyes, seen so briefly in the room earlier, haunted him. Soft, familiar hazels that forced his mind into the past, to a time before he’d been cursed. So many years ago now… soon he would have lived over half his life under this infernal curse.
At the table below, the man that had checked in earlier was sitting with a dusty old book. One huge hand turned the page with a loud crinkle, smoothing it carefully down. Fluffy brown hair was scattered messily about, in clear need of a good brush. Dean’s hand went to his own hair instinctively, trying to fix his spiky style. Cutting it himself didn’t make it easy, but he persevered.
While Dean was distracted, he accidentally leaned too much of his weight on the grate. With a loud, echoing Creak! the air vent slid shut, sending him to his knees without warning. He slammed into the metal ground with a loud (to his ears) thump.
He froze.
For a long, heart-stopping moment, there was nothing but silence.
Then, it came. The most terrifying sound he could have heard.
A shifting of fabric in the motel room outside indicated the human standing. “Hello?” rumbled a curious voice from outside, making Dean shiver once with worry. The human was tall enough to see into the vent while standing if he wanted to, and if he realized what was hiding from him in there…
Dean didn’t move, simply trying to wait it out. The human would just assume he heard the motel settling, just like anyone else. No reason to check the vent, no way to see Dean in there.
No such luck.
There was a creak from the vent again. The human was moving it. He needed to get out of there, now. If he got caught by such a huge human, the largest he’d ever seen, there would be no hope of escape.
Dean went to run, and fell flat on his back. His satchel! When the grate had closed it had snagged the strap, effectively trapping the small human.
Original Ask || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7
August 24th excerpt:
“I’ll take a coffee, black, with a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich,” Dean ordered at the drive-thru window. His voice was still gruff from waking up and not grabbing a drink.
Sam was sitting down on the seat, calmly watching everything that went on around him with a steady eye. From there, he couldn’t be seen from the drive-thru window, and there were no walkways nearby for a passerby to peek in at him. He could have a few minutes where he was sitting on the seat just like anyone else did.
A shadow moved overhead and Sam craned his neck back. He watched as Dean steadily turned the wheel directly above, angling them out of the drive-thru. The car shifted to a faster speed, and Sam latched a hand onto the seam of Dean’s pants. As silly as it was, it was better than going flying with the car moving around. Dean wouldn’t be able to grab him in time.
August 23rd excerpt:
Sam didn’t tell Logan any of his. He let himself smile secretively, then met the man’s eyes. “You should let yourself rest,” Sam said instead. “You’ll need your energy if you want to keep up yelling at Dean like this. It won’t get you anywhere, but if it makes you feel better, by all means. Yell. Eventually he might just stuff you in the duffel bag.”
Sam brushed the crumbs off his jacket, then gave it an annoyed glance, knowing he’d need to try and wash the blood out before going to bed.
Pulling out his grappling hook, Sam glanced over at Logan. “I wouldn’t want to be you in that bag, though,” Sam said dryly. “No way to get out, no way to even see what’s going on outside.”
August 21st excerpt:
With one hand over the bruise forming on the back of his head and the other desperately trying to get a grasp on the wall of the cage, Logan finally snapped. “Will you quite shaking this damn thing around so much?! Jesus Christ you’re worse than the fucking city bus.”
Dean glanced down at the cage, and couldn’t help a smirk. “Hear that, Sammy? He thinks I’m worse than the bus.”
Sam shifted on his shoulder, rubbing his eyes. After all the excitement, neither of them had got much sleep that day. “Guess he’s never tried being stuck in your jeans pocket,” he grumbled tiredly. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a worse ride than that, and I’ve been through a lot.”
August 19th excerpt:
Sam grinned confidently upwards at his brother. “Don’t worry,” he chirped as he bit into a miniature sandwich he’d cobbled together. He’d even managed to get small pieces of tomato and a bit of lettuce on it to serve as his own toppings. “I was watching it the entire time. I can take him on if he tries to grab your food.”
Jacob grinned, still amused by the banter. “He’s totally right. I wouldn’t wanna fight Sam.”
Dean couldn’t stop a laugh at that. He reached down with the hand that wasn’t holding the sandwich and gently ruffled Sam’s hair, leaving the bangs haphazardly covering his eyes. “I knew I kept you around for something, shorty,” he said fondly.
August 18th excerpt:
Dean put his foil-wrapped sandwich down next to the small picnic that was set up for Sam and Bowman. “Make sure no ants go after that for me,” he said as he let it go. “And no sneaking any bites, hear me?”
“Sure, Dean. Whatever you say, Dean,” Sam said in the fakest, most syrupy-sweet voice he could muster. He hid a grin underneath his bangs as he stared down at the wrapper his food was on, knowing exactly how his tone would be taken.
Dean scoffed at the sarcastic tone from his brother. “At this rate I might have to find someone else to ride shotgun in the car.”
He probably will, at some point or other. Dean will have to get sick, eventually. I’m sure it’s hard to keep Dean pinned in one place for long, so Sam will have his work cut out for him!
If anyone wants to read a little short of sick!Dean and caring!Sam, check out Take Care, by @chewbaccaaah!
And there’s a scene with Sam taking care of his very-much-larger brother in A Lich of Sense as well, and Dean is certainly not feeling himself in that!
August 14th excerpt:
Dean’s grin grew as a thought came to him. “Need a hand with that, Sammy?”
Sam almost seemed to consider as he kept the arm twisted back. Logan’s demands to be set free were completely ignored by the deceptively small and vulnerable-seeming hunter, who, on the same scale, was more powerful. “If you insist. I mean, he might be able to free himself. Eventually. If he doesn’t tire himself out first.”
Dean stretched out a hand through the grasses that loomed overhead, flattening it against the ground. There was a dangerous glint in his eye and two fingers twitched impatiently, beckoning Sam forward. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
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.
Brothers Apart 