AFIN – A Friend In Need

You will go down as the best name-guesser for the story acronyms! (Other sneak peeks on the way during the week from the rest of the guesses we got)

AFIN is indeed A Friend in Need, but since this is a completely new AU, before we give the full sneak peek, can anyone guess what’s going on in the story? Because this is different than what we’ve tried before, and we’re excited to hear what everyone thinks!


Dean was small. Insignificant. Nothing, a voice whispered in his mind.

A shock ran through Dean and he drew back from the fingertip like the glass had burned him, quickly pulling his sleeve down over his hand and trying to scrub away the scratches like the leather could possibly fix the mess he’d made.

December 14th excerpt:

Lestrade couldn’t hold in a chuckle anymore, curling his fingers back to be out of reach of Dean’s little punch before relaxing them back down to the table. “Forgot about me, did ya?” he said knowingly, a little too entertained by Dean’s drunken movements and ready to catch him in case his balance gave out on him.

“Did not! ” Dean protested with his fists clenched by his sides. His shoulders bunched up, along with his leather jacket, as he stood there looking like a cat with its hair on end.

December 3rd excerpt: 

Lestrade, admittedly, lost himself in thought as he watched a person he thought he knew fairly well interacting with someone who, by all rights and laws of nature, shouldn’t exist. It was certainly a sight he never thought he’d see, and he couldn’t stop staring at Dean while the little fella’s attention was elsewhere.

Dean seemed American, which was definitely noteworthy, and fairly young. Lestrade couldn’t tell for sure, but he couldn’t be older than his mid-twenties. Everything about him was scaled down perfectly, from his boots to his jeans and jacket.

Curiosity got the better of Lestrade, and without putting much thought to it, he reached forward slowly to place his hand next to Dean, a few inches away. He stood his hand on its side, shifting his gaze between it and the tiny man to see how he measured up next to his palm.

June 29th excerpt:

In annoyance, the little guy stormed out into plain sight. His leather jacket was hastily thrown on and his duffel bag hung askew, and he was glaring right at Sherlock when he came out into the light.

“You know, I’m right there, like two feet away,” Dean complained. “You’re gonna wake the dead one of these days, and the last thing we need to deal with is any vengeful spirits knocking on our doors along with all the rest of the problems going on.”

March 16th excerpt:

Bowman fluttered up in front of the hunter to pass him on the way to his spot above the radio, the tip of a wing just barely brushing the front of the thick jacket Dean always wore. Best to do that before Dean was moving the Impala, as he knew the human would gripe at him for being a distraction.

He sat down on the dashboard with a huff, only twitching a little as the the Impala roared to life again. “It was cold in there,” he complained, quite glad to have left the strangely fake bright lights of that store. What little light had leaked into his pocket hiding place had fallen on his wings and provided none of the warmth it promised.