Inktober entry for yesterday… lots came up in the meantime! I’ll try and get the 25th out tomorrow along with the 26th.
Sam’s supposed to be a mouse and Dean’s supposed to be a cat. kinda.
very low budget and last minute costumes and plans. Dean ate way too
much candy but still finds it hilarious to see Sam brave through his
phobias to give a peice of candy to a cute kid dressed up as a clown!
what a trouper!
There it was again. Another mention of Sam and Dean’s childhood, possibly a history with other humans. Simply recalling Dean’s reference to someone dislocating Sam’s shoulder in their youth made John’s half-full stomach turn. But it didn’t take a detective to see that Sam was still quite shy and nervous around John, another human, so he filed that away for another time.
Though something in him doubted ‘another time’ would ever come.
“Can I ask where you’re from?” John ventured, trying to keep up a friendly tone. “It’s just, the accent is a little…telling.”
Oscar couldn’t sleep. He had a huge pillow to rest on and a warm shirt to curl up in, but his attention was focused away from them. At night, sometimes, he was up and about searching for food, after all. He was used to sleeping when he was tired, and at the moment he wasn’t tired.
He sat up on the pillow with his legs stretched out in front of himself and his hands braced on the plushy surface beneath him. Nearby, he could hear the quiet pattern of Sam breathing, sprawled under the shirt-blanket. Sam was a little more used to sleeping every night, or most every night.
Dean’s breathing was much easier to hear. His huge lungs were bigger than Oscar’s home in the walls. Probably. Those breaths created little breezes back and forth over the pillow, with the way Dean had hugged it protectively close. Oscar had stayed in the big motel room more and more often as the days wore by. He spent so much time with his friends, and couldn’t be happier.
It wasn’t doubt or even fear for the big, wide open room that kept Oscar awake now. For once, his reason was peaceful and without worry. He stared at the window of the motel room, where the edge of a curtain had gotten caught in just away that left it hanging open a few inches.
To someone who barely stood over two inches tall, it was a wide break in the fabric indeed. Oscar stared at the sky beyond that window in awe. The streetlamp outside had flickered out earlier, and after that, Oscar couldn’t look away.
Oscar could see the stars out there.
Little twinkling lights seemed to peek back at him. Oscar had only ever seen the daytime sky with them, so far. By the time night fell, they were always safely back in the room to watch TV or run and play (sometimes with Dean trying to catch Sam and Oscar as they laughed and scurried away).
Oscar sighed contentedly and lay back down to draw some of the shirt over himself. He curled up, but made sure he could still see that small space between the curtains. He fell asleep watching the stars for the first time in his life.
( Thought of this yesterday. Since all the flashbacks in BA are scattered around, I wanted to put them up here so they’re easy to find. I may even add a never-before-seen flashback at the end if I can finish writing it! )
Sam creeps silently along the wall, trying to remember everything he’s ever been taught about remaining unnoticed and unseen. He glances out from under the dresser he is hiding under, staring at the immense beds in the room. It has been the hours since the lights have shut off and everyone in the room should be fast asleep.
He takes his first careful steps into the room. There is a small bag of chips dropped on the floor by the child in the room earlier on in the day. It is freshly opened, a far cry from the stale crackers his family had been eating for the last week. He is desperate for food, and his father has refused to get fresh food from the kitchens. One of the other families in the motel has had to get food from there earlier that same week. If Sam’s family goes there again so soon, it will risk exposing everyone living in the motel.
The room opens up around him. Five years at this size and he is still not used to the way the world towers above him. It brings back a familiar ache, thinking how things might be different if the witch had gone for Dean. If their Dad had returned to the room a little sooner, or they had never come to this God-forsaken motel in the first place.
He wonders how Dean is. If their father is even still alive. Though it would be frightening to see them while he is so small, he wishes they were nearby. That they could help him. He can imagine, for a few wishful moments, being held by safe, familiar hands. Hands that will protect him instead of capture him. Dean would never let anything bad happen, Sam knew.
Deep inside, he knows it isn’t ever meant to be, but it’s a nice fantasy. Thinking of them is a comfort he rarely indulges in anymore, but a comfort he needs.
It is these distracted thoughts that get him in trouble.
He is so lost in his own mind that he stumbles right into that bag of chips. It crinkles around him as he falls forward into the leftovers.
A few choice curses he learned from Dean growing up slip from his lips. Standing up in the bag, he freezes.
There is movement in the room.
A small voice calls out. “Mommy? There’s something in our room.”
The voice is quiet and scared, but almost a death sentence for Sam, small and stranded as he is in the middle of the room. He is only three and a half inches tall, he’s just started to hit a growth spurt.
There is a rustling from the other bed. A feminine voice fills the room now. “Go to sleep, baby. There’s nothing there.”
“But mommy…”
“You were just imagining it sweetie. Close your eyes and relax.”
There is silence, and Sam starts to feel a little better. Cautiously, he picks up a chip, and starts to make his way out of the bag as silent as he could.
Finally out, he freezes.
Something feels wrong.
It takes him a moment to figure it out. A shadowy figure is sitting up on the bed, slowly scanning the room. The child is still awake, trying to find what was making the noise on the floor.
Sam tenses. The second the child looks away from his direction, he bolts for the wall. A cry sounds behind him, waking the mother again. While she is trying to calm the boy down, Sam makes it to the dresser and dives under. He wastes no time making his way to the wall, heart in his throat when he hears footsteps behind. They shake the ground under him, giving his flight a desperate spurt of energy.
He makes it to the hidden door and out of the room seconds before a light shines down, lighting up the area. He collapses in relief, still clutching his chip as he hears the mother again. She is right outside his hiding place. “See hun? Nothing there.”
Brothers Apart 