January 17th excerpt:
“Hello, dear,” the woman greeted. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah, I, uh,” Sam pulled out a scrap of paper he’d scribbled on the night before with a few ideas for books. “I’m looking for books on witchcraft and curses for a paper I’m working on,” and there goes any chances of coming off as normal, he rued, “and then if you have anything on… tiny people?”
The woman arched an eyebrow at the books. “You mean like The Borrowers? ”
( Start from here! )
Dean waved Sam off. “All we gotta do is wait for him to be distracted. In, out, there’s nothing to it. Everyone gets food and he goes on never knowing we exist.”
Sam sighed. “Walt will kill you one of these days.”
Dean flashed a charming, confident grin. “Haven’t been caught yet, have I?”
The tiny conversation in the room never caught Jacob’s attention as he shifted his bag around on the bed, dumping out some of his things and snagging his small phone from a side pouch. In his hands, the little thing bordered on ridiculous, and he had gotten many comments before about his thumbs being too big for the buttons. He was nearing his full height, inches over six feet, and he had the hands to match.
Even so, he poked out a quick message on the phone with relative ease, used to making use of such small buttons. It helped that he had quite a bit of practice with almost everything being made for someone with smaller hands.
With the text sent, he tossed it back to the bed with a single bounce, and then grabbed his supplies to move them to the bathroom sink. As he trudged across the room, hardly making note of the decor or the faded paint, he rolled his shoulder with a faint wince. It seemed like it was always stiff now, despite it being months since it had pained him. A jagged, puckered scar, hidden beneath layers of t-shirt and hoodie, was supposed to be all that was left of the wound.
At least he didn’t have to use a cane to hold himself up anymore. He tossed his supplies into the sink alcove, and then wandered back to the main room.
His phone was already blinking to show it had a return message. When he grabbed it, he almost rolled his eyes at the simple urgency of the Call me? on the tiny screen.
Wearily and hoping he wouldn’t take so long that his food cooled off, Jacob sat on the end of the bed and dialed the number to give his mother a call to let her know he was okay.
While Jacob got settled, the Winchesters were on the move.
This has to spell trouble…
Let us know what you think is going to happen! More to come soon!
January 16th excerpt:
Light flooded into the pocket from above. A large finger pulled the flap out of the way, letting Sam peer into the depths of the pocket, the edges of his one visible hazel eye crinkling in concern. The pupil dilated, focusing down on Stan.
“You okay?” came Sam’s voice, this time vibrating out of the very wall next to Stan’s seat.
( Start from here! )
The diner wasn’t too busy, with only a few tables taken up by locals, but it took a little time to decide what he wanted. Jacob offered the hostess an easygoing smile while he checked over the menu and made his decision. He’d long since learned to keep a mellow demeanor with people, considering his height and bulk.
He hadn’t done as much lifting in the past year as he was used to, but he was getting back into things after an old injury had finally healed. Even without the intense regimen, he was formidable. His lax attitude, one that he’d been able to practice on the most timid of people, worked well. He placed his order and the hostess offered him a friendly smile as she went to tell the cook.
Soon enough he had a bag placed in his hand, and the food boxed within was so warm he felt it through the layers of cardboard and plastic. He left and, with one more glance at the dimming horizon, hurried back to his chosen home for the night.
In minutes, his car pulled up to the door of his motel room once more, with faded paint and a dull brass number nailed to the front.
Jacob moved casually as he got out of the car, his bag of food hanging from one hand and his room key in the other. Soon enough, the latch of the door clicked loudly to announce his return and he stepped inside, tossing the key to the table without a second thought. The plastic bag shuffled loudly as he set it down, and then he paused.
Should probably text mom, he decided, turning back towards the bed where his backpack waited.
~~~
From hiding in the room, Dean watched the human move, on edge and at the ready to dive back into the walls they had emerged from.
A thin strip of light lit up one eye where he was peering out, the only part of him that was visible as he assessed the situation. Sam kept back, one arm over his satchel and alert for any change to his knack.
They were an effective team, and even with the human in the room, Dean decided not to discount the chance at getting some much-needed food for them and their family.
The plastic bag, up on the table, let out an aroma that called Dean back to older days. Back when they could order their own food and eat when the meals were warm. His mouth watering, he kept his eyes glued on it.
“We can totally take it,” Dean whispered to Sam.
“Are you nuts?! ”
Let us know what you think is going to happen! More to come soon!
January 15th excerpt:
The drop was sharp, but the landing was soft, and Stan ended up in a tangle of limbs at the bottom of Sam’s pocket. He had difficulty finding his feet in the oversized hammock, clutching the fabric around him for some semblance of stability.
When he finally fell still, sitting in a corner with his back pressed to a side seam, Stan’s eyes widened. The world shifted ever so slightly back and forth as Sam breathed right next to him, hearing the dull roar of those massive lungs as they filled and emptied in time. If he concentrated, he could make out the thrum of Sam’s heart deep within the expansive wall of muscle he found himself leaning against in his temporary sanctuary. A heart Stan might be able to fit inside, lungs large enough to be rooms, maybe even small houses!
“Oh, boy,” murmured Stan as Sam’s magnitude hit him like a ton of bricks. He thanked goodness that Sam was as mindful of him as he was.
( While I’m feeling down we briefly paused writing our regular stories and started doing some good ole’ crack! It’s a good way to help break writer’s block, throw Sam and Dean at Jacob in a slight change of circumstances! )
Story parts: 1(here) || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 ||
A worn but reliable maroon car had no opposition on the road as it sped down a flat expanse, kicking up a meager cloud of dust in its wake. Jacob Andris, a midwesterner at heart, felt at ease under the dome of an open sky, with the occasional cluster of trees throwing their shade onto the road as he passed. Oklahoma had been barely a blip on his path, and now he was on a road that felt more like home.
Kansas had a familiar charm to it. After a road trip down into New Mexico to check out one of the colleges there, it felt good to roll through the more familiar terrain, with cornfields and wind turbines stretching over a flat horizon. Jacob couldn’t help a sigh of relief as he put all signs of the desert behind him. Road trips were a favorite hobby of his, but this one had given him more stress than relaxation so far.
It was early evening when he decided to give in to the temptation of food and some rest. The sun was still shining orange and pink near the horizon, but that wouldn’t last long before the sky became a blanket of glittering black. He’d set aside some cash before the trip for this purpose, but he was glad to see a little motel with decent rates advertised on the sign. Whatever he could save, he did. He checked in, with the clerk almost relieved to finally see some business.
The place couldn’t be too bad. It wasn’t crawling with anything when he got to the room, and that was all he needed. He even stooped down to check under the bed, but all he found was dust bunnies.
He left his bag on the tacky bedspread, with some of his road supplies already spilling out. It wasn’t a long trip, so he didn’t have as much as some folks usually brought, but then Jacob was almost always prepared for a quick weekend getaway. He spent as much time as he could up at a certain forest campground, well off the designated path for hikers. Only a few people really knew what drew him back there so often, and the ones that didn’t never thought to ask.
With one last glance over his shabby but cozy room, he stepped back out to go find some takeout to bring back.
~~~
A room away, unbeknownst to Jacob, were two people wandering in the general direction of his room.
They had thus far had an unsuccessful day of gathering supplies. Sam Winchester tagged along behind his older brother, Dean Winchester.
Dean’s knack, while useful when they were desperate, had stayed irritatingly silent while they were out. Sam’s had given them the needed warnings when the maids came in to clean the rooms, alerting them to humans that might come close to their hiding spots and serving them well in their evasive movements to stay hidden.
After all, the two brothers, though they had once been human, stood under a half a foot tall. Together, they couldn’t outweigh a single hand. A single night had stolen all that away from them, a witch attacking them and reducing them in height until the people they would seek for help looked at them as less than rodents if they went to them for help.
They’d survived, thanks to a family at the same scale that had found them. Raised them as family, taught them survival at their heights. Sam hadn’t been over three inches tall, and Dean just a bit taller. Over the years they’d adapted, and their knacks had appeared, unique abilities that kept them safe and fed.
Dean could find anything he needed, but he needed to need it. They hadn’t figured out exactly how to make him track down just anything, though it had saved them from starvation multiple times.
Sam could sense anyone that was looking around, either for or near them. It was invaluable in staying undetected time and time again when they raided the nearby rooms.
“Just one more,” Dean said out loud from just ahead of Sam.
Sam glanced up. Dean’s voice was soft, so it didn’t carry far enough to be heard outside of the walls. “You really think it’ll do much good?” he asked, resigned to their empty supply bags.
Dean shrugged. “I saw some kid checking in earlier. He might have some snacks we can nab. It’s better than nothin’, right?”
So, does anyone think Dean’s plan is a good idea?
Let us know what you think is going to happen! More to come soon!
January 14th excerpt:
“Baker,” Stan replied suddenly, looking up at Sam with glistening green eyes. Something deep in the pit of his chest felt warmer with this new knowledge, like a part of him that was lost was finding its way back. “My last name is Baker.”
Sam had a slowly growing smile on his face at Stan’s triumph. “Good to meet you officially, Stan Baker,” he said. “I’m Sam Winchester and that’s Dean Winchester.”
January 13th excerpt:
“I understand, Sam,” Stan insisted as he automatically hopped onto the offered hand. He had no desire to get grabbed by anyone else and end up starting this whole process over with someone completely new. Someone who might not be as considerate as Sam and Dean had been.
As he climbed up to Sam’s palm, Stan let one of his hands brush past the pad of the thumb as he passed it by. The insanity of the situation hit Stan all at once, him reassuring the giant as he was about to be pocketed by said giant. He shook his head, pondering this strange existence he led now.
We’ve actually paused on writing that story just like Brothers Discovered, and ended up working on a bit more angsty stories while work was stressful, but we can spare ya a peek!
The cry of fear from in Sam’s hands galvanized him into action, and he squirmed away from Dean’s reaching hand. “No!” he cried out, protesting his older brother’s grab. He twisted out of reach, keeping his hands shut tight around the kid. “You’ll hurt him! I promised!”
There was a moment of silence, and Sam looked over his shoulder to see Dean frozen. “Sam,” Dean said slowly, his eyebrows pinching in concern. “What do you have in your hands?”
“Promise not to grab?” Sam asked, sticking his lip out stubbornly.
“Promise, shorty,” Dean held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. “But I need to know what you have. No secrets.”
Sam sighed, and shifted onto his knees. “He’s real scared,” he explained, cracking his hands open slowly. “You gotta be careful.”
Dean blinked in surprise at the ‘he,’ then leaned forward as Sam’s hands opened to reveal the world’s tiniest kid. “Sonovabit–”
“Dean!”
The scold cut Dean off, and all he could do was close his mouth and stare, for once rendered speechless.
Oscar was speechless too, though he felt like his heart had to be pounding loud enough for them to hear it. His ears throbbed after their short bickering, and his hands were clamped over the sides of his head. Somehow, he’d managed to stay curled up even when Sam moved around and jerked him away from Dean.
Now, though, he trembled so much it was amazing he could keep any position. Loud voices, huge hands, huge eyes, the sensations all swirled around him in a confusing whirlpool
He hiccupped and scrubbed at his eyes with the back of a hand. More tears replaced what he’d wiped away, and he kept the hand in front of his face to hide the only way he could.
“Dude, where’d you even find him?” Dean shot at Sam, rapid fire.
January 12th excerpt
“So what’s the plan for the day?” Sam asked as he picked up his fork, starting in on his own food once it looked like Stan was settled.
“Researmph,” Dean mumbled around a piece of sausage, eliciting a glare from Sam when he talked with his mouth full.
Brothers Apart 