That’s an easy one 😉
Jacob in Brothers Lost is eighteen years old, only a few months from turning nineteen. In both Brothers Found and Brothers Adopted, he’s seventeen, putting him shorter than Sam and Dean both. So, give him a little time, and Sam and Dean will both be looking up to him! (And Dean will be complaining all the way)
He just needs a little more time to get to his full height.
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 26th excerpt:
Halfway out, he tripped on the thick carpet fibers. Stumbling, he toppled forward and landed on his front with a quiet Oof! that sent ice up his spine. He turned to look over his shoulder at the bed behind him to see if he’d been heard.
The tiny sound was just barely audible over Dean’s breathing. His eyes blinked open, staring blankly up at the ceiling while what he’d heard sunk into his head.
August 25th excerpt:
“Class, say hello to Dean Winchester, our new student at school.”
“Hello, Dean.”
The mumbled response to the teacher’s introduction left much to be desired, but it was more than Dean had received in other places. He stood at the front of the class, his hands shoved in his pockets and his shoulders slouched. As the last of the words tapered off, Dean gave a jerky half-wave, doing his best to avoid catching anyone’s gaze.
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 22nd excerpt:
Logan found himself swept up by the sudden rush of black fabric, and his yelp of alarm and demands for Dean to watch what he was doing went ignored.
Aaaa, I love when Dean’s in big brother mode, and now he’s got two little surprises to find! The horror story will come, but until then, it’s time for Dean and Jacob to flail their way through another first encounter.
XD Jacob has good reason to be paranoid here, at least. They are but small grains of rice to him. He’ll have to watch out when he talks. Little guys like that can’t take a lot of volume from someone his size! Plus on the other hand, Jacob might not hear them if they say something to him (Bowman would be pissed if he couldn’t scold Jacob).
Regular Sam at least has a bit of experience climbing sharp cliffs, like elevator shafts, though the smol versions of him take it to a whole new level! He’d be fascinated to see one of him climb himself, especially since he knows he’s a tall guy.
The folds would be pretty intricately detailed. A normal smol could easily fit their fingers through the holes of most fabrics (especially the flannel that the Winchesters wear), so someone that’s that much smaller might be able to stick their entire arm in. @.@ That’s a lot of fabric.
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.”
Brothers Apart 