Tag: dean winchester

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December 22nd excerpt:

“Sit still and get better,” Moira snipped at him, quickly making the cup and scooping water into it. “You’re not doing yourself any favors by pushing it.”

“Thanks, mom,” Dean said tartly. “Who’s the oldest here again?”

“That’d be me,” John pointed out, easily drawing attention to himself. He was steadily learning how to control his voice around the smaller folk, especially at close proximity. However, John supposed he couldn’t prevent himself from being an overwhelming presence to them even at his quietest.

With a shrug, John went on. “And as a doctor, I have to agree with Moira. You need rest. And eat up, you’re gonna have to replenish your iron and vitamins to get your strength back.”

Dean gave John a flat glare. “You two,” he griped, pointing first at Moira then at John, “are not supposed to be on the same side!”

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December 21st excerpt:

Then John went to the freezer for a cold pack. After what Sam had gone through with the ice packs for his bruises, the doctor spent one of his days off scouring the internet for friendlier, less messy alternatives to ice. After finding something surprising, John went out and bought a bag of mini marshmallows to keep in the freezer. Apparently they absorbed the cold really well, and since they were soft they were easier to apply to sore or achy spots on the body. Dean wouldn’t have to deal with the wetness of melting ice, and he’d have something sweet to nibble on later if he liked.

As strange as it was, it was a better option, theoretically.

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The bros don’t often pause to notice the seasons, so they tend to miss them a lot! For the first Christmas, Dean definitely found a gingerbread man to give Sam, and got the bitchiest bitchface in return because what can he possibly do with this giant cookie.

Good presents for Sam definitely include more journals, notebook paper, maybe some extra pencil lead. He’s always up for more supplies. And check out this picture to see Dean building his little bro an igloo! Such fun :3

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December 20th excerpt:

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

“Mother sent me! She wanted to make sure you two boys were getting along, especially since you haven’t visited in six months, Dean! You can’t make them worry like that.”

Dean sighed. “We meant to come visit, we just got… busy.”

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December 19th excerpt:

Moira tried to steel her heart. Dean was in trouble, and she needed to get him out of that human’s hands, now. Then once Dean woke up they could escape and find Sam, wherever he was, even if the human had him trapped somewhere else.

“I’m Moira,” she snapped defiantly, the pin wobbling slightly in her grasp. His voice was so huge and booming, like it could overpower hers without any effort. Just another thing to drill his size in, as though she could miss it.

Moira’s lip curled, and she glared up at the human. “You’re that human doctor, aren’tcha?” Her voice dripped with disdain from all the stories she’d heard of others like her and Dean being experimented on, often by these ‘doctors.’ “I won’t let you run tests on our Dean!”

image

artwork by @mogadeer

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December 17th excerpt:

John couldn’t help but marvel at the amount of detail he was able to see through the small lens, if slightly distorted. The individual spikes of Dean’s hair which swayed as though in time with a breeze; it didn’t take John long to realize that the breeze was his breath, and he made a conscious effort to lessen the gust. Freckles across Dean’s cheeks and stubble on his chin, the tiniest things that John wouldn’t be able to make out ordinarily. Bloodstains on his black shirt, and… John squinted and looked closer, a little thrown by the sight of a necklace resting against Dean’s chest. Even with the magnifier, all he could really make out was an outline of a leather cord and a metallic gleam from a pendant.

“What is that? ” Sherlock piped up, leaning in close again. 

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December 16th excerpt:

Leaning on the slight incline of John’s fingers, some of which outsized him in length, Dean had never looked smaller and more vulnerable.

This was further accentuated when a longer, paler finger came from behind John to poke at Dean’s shoulder, flipping the tiny person onto his back.

“Stop that!” John hissed, slapping Sherlock’s hand out of the way. The hand supporting Dean wavered ever so slightly, causing his head to loll to the other side.