Tag: dean winchester

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September 7th excerpt:

An idea hit when he spotted the unused pillow sitting on his bed. Dean didn’t move much when he slept, mostly just curling into his own spot due to having to share the occasional bed with Sam. His little brother would sprawl, taking over as much of the bed as possible and usually leaving Dean with just a corner.

With that in mind, Dean walked over to the bed and lowered his hand to the pillow. Oscar would certainly have plenty of space to himself, and he wouldn’t have to worry about Dean knocking into his pillow.

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XD That would be fun! Dean might have to dig Sam out if he sinks too far down!

They haven’t done anything like this, they usually keep pretty busy with hunting so fun and games don’t happen very often. They do slot in movie nights from time to time to get Sam up to date on what’s on. Sam gets back a little of his childhood, but we all know Winchesters don’t take much opportunity for it.

Tiny has the unfortunate (or fortunate) timing of being on a giant’s stomach when they start laughing

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big-fluffy-dragon-deactivated20:

Wouldn’t it be cute if a tiny was just sitting on a giants tum while they tell them a joke, it’s not even that good but all of the sudden the giant bursts out into a huge rumbling belly laugh!

The tiny thinks it feels like some sort of seismic quake as they bounce up suddenly, letting out a little yelp of shock- but after a bit it becomes quite fun, like a bouncy castle and soon they’re both laughing even more!

( I can’t resist putting this out there since we’ve got this exact tumbly scenario in a future story :3)

Dean leaned back against the pillow and dropped Jacob down on his chest so they could watch TV together. The warm light of the television soon bathed the room in a familiar light.

Jacob was winded as he landed, dazed. Of course, he still wasn’t used to how quickly Dean moved at all, so he could hardly register the few seconds between being scooped up again and falling with a gasp from Dean’s hand.

The surface he landed on rose and fell, and there was a familiar pulse thudding away beneath him. Jacob pushed himself up to hands and knees abruptly, staring down in befuddlement at the black fabric of the t-shirt Dean had donned just minutes before. Jacob could feel minor muscle twitches as the chest rhythmically shifted to accommodate lungs that emptied and filled themselves over and over.

“What the hell,” he muttered, completely nonplussed as he tried to at least move himself to a seated position. But the slope and the unfamiliar terrain combined so that Jacob leaned to the side and lost his balance, falling over once again. The TV was ignored as he frowned and made another attempt.

Dean was distracted from the TV as well the moment he felt Jacob tumble down his chest. A smile started to form on his face at the sight of how off-balance the kid was. He chuckled. “You’re like one of those weeble wobbles they used to sell when I was little.” The sight of Jacob tumbling more made him laugh even harder. “Man, I wish I knew about this last night. I could have used a good laugh.”

Jacob felt like he was on a trampoline, with someone else jumping. The surface underneath him now shook up and down a lot faster, causing him to tumble this way and that, or land in a heap only to have the ground disappear again. He couldn’t focus on one thing before he was shaken again and facing something else, so it was little surprise that his scowl could never be aimed at Dean directly.

He was winded with one particular tumble, and it dazed him enough to roll a few inches before he could stop himself. He managed to get a grasp on the fabric of Dean’s shirt, despite the movement all around, and the noise that drowned out everything else. He lost his grip with one hand and scrambled to regain it before the other hand slipped, too.

Jacob wasn’t quick enough. He slipped farther until he was on a softer surface. Dean’s belly shook even more and left him even dizzier. “F-f-fuck y-you,” he managed to stutter out in retort, his arms still flailing for purchase on the shirt to try and halt some of the tumbling.

Dean snorted in response. “You should see your face!” He couldn’t stop the laughter, unavoidably shaking the surface that Jacob was trying to sit up on. Dean had to brush tears from his eyes, muffled chortles still escaping him. “Man, I haven’t laughed like that since I was a kid.”

Taking slight pity on the kid, he pinched Jacob’s hoodie in an attempt to haul him to his feet. With the way Dean’s belly wouldn’t stop shaking from suppressed laughter, it didn’t do either of them much good, but he did manage to catch Jacob’s balance with two fingers and prop him slightly up. “Who needs TV while there’s live entertainment right here?”

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September 6th excerpt:

Ignoring the bustle around him from the onset of the early dinner rush, Dean gently pressed a hand over his pocket to reassure the tiny kid within. There wasn’t much else he could do without taking the risk of Oscar being spotted, so he had to settle.

Deal left his hand there for a beat longer after he felt the tiniest little hands push against him. Before dropping his hand away, he nudged where he thought Oscar’s side was, teasing his friend to remind him he was safely out of sight.

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September 5th excerpt:

Those kind of shoes make more sense now, Dean thought distractedly as he watched Oscar go. Boots like Dean’s wouldn’t be able to keep a grip on the thread as consistently as the foot wraps. Or that’s what it seemed like to Dean. He tried to imagine climbing like this and could only flinch at how easy it would be to lose grip.

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September 4th excerpt:

Oscar huffed and his lips pursed in a determined pout. He could see the doubt lining Dean’s expression even as the older boy pulled the thread away to examine it. “I can! I climb all the time!” he insisted. His cheeks warmed with indignation and a drive to assure the human beyond that doubt.

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September 3rd excerpt:

When Oscar was finished with his bag, Dean reached a hand forward and nudged the side of the tiny bag with a curious finger, wondering what else Oscar might have in there. He couldn’t imagine the kid could fit too much stuff in there.

Oscar flinched, let out a squeak of surprise and clutched his bag close, looking up at Dean with reddening cheeks. If he’d known he was being watched, he might not have put the food in his bag. Luckily for him, Dean didn’t look annoyed or angry with him for taking food. He had a more inquisitive expression and his focus on the little cloth bag.

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What Oscar becomes in the future will be all up to him, but he’s sure to want to watch after his Dean if he gets into any trouble. It isn’t likely he’ll ever stop being shy, since that’s an innate part of his nature, as much as Dean is stubborn and headstrong even when he’s not quite four inches tall, but there will be a definite effect on him from being around Dean, just like there was in BT when Oscar met Sam and Dean both.

For the rest, we’ll have to see what the future holds!

image

Artwork by Heartstores

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.”