June 20th excerpt:

This movement caught Dean off guard, and left the smaller man clinging to the curls in surprise. “What did I say about movin?’ “ he scolded, frozen in place until he was absolutely certain Sherlock wasn’t going to knock him off. “This is hard enough already! I’d like to see you climb someone’s hair.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself and forcing any thought of how high up he was suspended in the air on a moving person, Dean started to climb again.

Only now, he put more effort into where his boots dug into Sherlock’s scalp. 

For traction.

June 19th excerpt:

“Just… don’t move,” Dean warned Sherlock severely.

I can’t believe I’m about to do this.

Before he could rethink his actions, Dean stood on his tiptoes on Sherlock’s shoulder, stretching to reach the black curls that cascaded down from above. Never once had Dean ever considered climbing up there, yet here he was.

June 18th excerpt:

As Sam was locked in his panic, the sounds of the world around him began to slip through the cracks. A murmur of voices in the brothers’ main room, Moira’s laugh. Distantly, Sherlock’s deep rumble as he argued with someone Sam couldn’t make out. Either a phone call–

–Or Dean.

June 17th excerpt:

“Dean.”

For the third time that morning, Dean found a voice by his side whispering his name with some urgency. The urge rose up in him to simply grab his blankets and tug them over his head, ignoring the rest of the world in favor of some much-needed sleep.

Yet Dean’s deepest nature prevented him from trying, and when the second “Dean!” came, he blinked open his eyes.

“Whu–“

June 16th excerpt:

Next, Sherlock took the remaining sample and preset it under the microscope, focusing all his attention on carefully squeezing drop after drop of warm water from the teapot next to him through an eyedropper onto the sample to watch the crystals dissolve. He waited until the process had stopped after each drop, though given the size of the sample it wouldn’t take long at all before it was all gone.

As focused as Sherlock was on his experiments, he didn’t realize he had a visitor.

June 15th excerpt:

The thought brought on an exasperated sigh, and he angrily chewed through the rest of his biscuit as he mulled it over. On some level Sherlock wanted to hear Dean out. He trusted Dean as a partner and knew he could rely on his judgment, but still–

June 14th excerpt:

John gave a light groan, feeling a kink in his neck coming on as he lifted his head a bit to blink the blurriness from his eyes and focus on the figures standing by the books.

“Hey,” he whispered as he rubbed at his eyes. He glanced at his watch, then offered a tired but warm smile. “Bit early to be up. Everything okay?”

He kept his tone light and conversational, not wanting either of them to feel put on the spot. John wasn’t interrogating them, just checking up in case they needed something.

June 13th excerpt:

His hand was around the kid in seconds, plucking him free of the edge. Dean lifted Jacob up to his eyes. “What in the world were you thinking?” he demanded.

Jacob blinked rapidly, as always a little dazed with how quickly he moved in Dean’s grasp. He was getting used to it, which was weird all by itself, but he still had a ways to go. In the meantime, it took him a few seconds to put together a coherent response to Dean’s question.

“I was thinking I’d get to the floor,” he answered, a little cheek and a lot of dizziness in his tone.

June 12th excerpt:

Dean licked his lips. “Is that really what you think?” he asked hoarsely, shoving himself back to his feet. He almost stumbled away from the table, blindly grabbing for his jacket. Something in him wanted to get out, get away…

Somewhere he wouldn’t have to see the fear in Jacob’s eyes from the night before flash into his mind again.

“W-wait, Dean, lemme just…” Jacob tried to say, but Dean wasn’t listening to him. The human didn’t acknowledge him at all and seemed entirely out of sorts after the question.

June 11th excerpt: 

Jacob sighed and shrugged before reaching out to push Dean’s hand. “Sure, running towards the monsters. Sign me up.”

“Hey, as long as I’m running towards the monsters, it means they ain’t about to chase after me,” Dean shot easily back, smirking at the featherlight feeling of an amazingly small hand trying to push against his. On his own, Jacob would never be able to move the hand, but Dean played along and moved it away. Before getting out of reach, though, he curled his hand and playfully messed up Jacob’s hair. He couldn’t pass up a prime opportunity like that to mess with the kid.