He glanced back to Bowman, who waited on his palm. “Y’know, Bowman, I think the more help we can bring in, the better,” he admitted.
Bowman perked up, and Jacob saw understanding in those green eyes. Bowman might not know how a lot of “human stuff” worked, but he was a smart little guy. “Dean and Sam,” he said.
Jacob nodded. “Dean and Sam,” he agreed. “I’m betting they can weigh in on this, too.”
“Dean…” Jacob began, exasperation touching the edge of his tone again. He frowned when he craned his neck back and saw that he was rapidly losing what attention he had. “Waitasecond,” he called, trying to snap Dean out of it before he really conked out.
He tried to squirm out from under Dean’s hand, but the loose grip around him combined with the dead weight to keep him right where he was. He muttered a curse; if he got stuck there, he would have to wait until the whiskey wore off and Dean woke up. That could take a while.
“You haven’t hurt me before,” Jacob insisted. “Which, uh. Thanks, by the way. But y’know, being small doesn’t make me that fragile.”
“Dude, don’t give me that,” Dean complained, switching the way his fingers were placed to flatten Jacob’s hand out. Like this, Dean could see each individual finger. They were so thin compared to Dean, he could barely see them. If Jacob spread his hand out over Dean’s fingertip, he wouldn’t be able to cover it. That small.
Dean didn’t let his fascination keep him from caution while he looked to make sure none of the fingers (what he could see of them) were hurt, complaining all the way. “If I wasn’ so big, you woulndna got yourself in trouble. And that’s why we’re here, so we can make sure you stay safe from now on.”
Jacob shifted his leg away from Dean’s poking, trying to pull himself further up in Dean’s grasp. The fist was too tight around him to maneuver much, though he still wasn’t squeezed. Dean miraculously knew to hold back even now.
“Don’t make me lose my shoe,” he warned. He was unsettlingly close to Dean’s face, so close he could see his reflection in the relaxed eyes. If he wanted, he might be able to give the human a swift kick to the nose. “I’ve only got the two.”
It’s the tenth update for the Sad Oscar AU! When it began, I definitely didn’t have much direction planned out for what would happen to the poor guy. Now, I have a plan, and even (eventually) an ending to the story/AU! Let’s take one more step on the adventure. Poor lil guy.
The voice was loud and harsh, forcing Oscar out of sleep earlier than he was used to. He barely parsed the words by the time he thought to open his eyes. A hand loomed in his vision and sent a bolt of fear through him.
No matter how many months he’d spent in captivity, that never became an easier sight. Never.
He shot upright as the fingers reached him. Not to escape–he knew better. Standing meant the hand wouldn’t force him into an uncomfortable ball when it gathered him up. Instead, the fingers slipped around him and closed in unbreakable coils. Only his head and shoulders remained free of the uncomfortable pressure all around him. He held in his squeak of discomfort.
Voicing fear never got him anything good. At best, it went ignored. At worst, he could get reprimanded. The customers didn’t want them too afraid.
That’s what the salesman always repeated to Oscar and his friend and fellow captive, Jacob. Over and over in their training, their conditioning. Until, of course, weeks ago when Jacob was sold and Oscar was left all alone again.
Don’t get attached. They never buy pairs. It was coming true right before his eyes.
Now, he was more afraid than ever. The human, thankfully, didn’t take notice or didn’t care about the tears in Oscar’s eyes as he carried him out of the room with the cages for what would be the last time. It was all Oscar could do to hold it in to avoid punishment, but he was afraid.
New humans meant new terrors. Each time he changed hands, he found himself in a worse place than the last. Whoever had bought him couldn’t be any different. The pattern would go on.
“You’ll like these ones,” the salesman said in defiance of Oscar’s thoughts. “They tell me they already have an enclosure just for you. Just remember who you’re representing with them, are we clear?”
Oscar grimaced as the hand lifted enough for the man to peer down at him, but not enough to put him at eye level. He was not an equal, and there would be no illusions of that.
“Y-yes, sir,” Oscar squeaked out thickly. “Tha-thank you.”
The man wrinkled his nose in distaste for the tremors in Oscar’s voice, but huffed and didn’t say anything about it. He’d tried from the first day to get rid of it. Some days were better than others.
Today, Oscar didn’t think he’d be able to avoid his fear even if he wanted to suppress it.
The human carried him back to a room that Oscar hadn’t seen since he first arrived. The room where the salesman first inspected him and determined he would be a great asset. There was already something waiting on the table in the middle of the room, and Oscar recognized it right away.
It looked almost exactly like the box that Noriko had dropped him in when she sold him away. This one had the same air holes in the side and a heavy lid that he wouldn’t be able to move on his own even if he was tall enough to reach it. The only difference was that this one hadn’t been decorated, and as they reached the table, he saw no cushioning at the bottom.
“Sit tight, Ollie,” the human told him with a smirk, before sweeping his hand forward and letting Oscar slip through his fingers. Oscar clung to the last one for only a second, his legs swinging over the box. Then, sure he wouldn’t crash into something and before the man could notice, he let himself fall.
The lid was over him seconds later, and Oscar curled up into a ball. He knew what was coming. The box lurched up and swayed.
He really was leaving. His heart pounded and he shrank into a corner as much as he could.
A door opened. A new room. Oscar heard at least one other human moving around, despite the pounding in his ears. Something tapped the floor; footsteps?
The salesman had a much warmer voice when he greeted them. “Here we are, sir. Little Ollie all parceled up and ready to go home.”
The other human hummed thoughtfully. “I’m sure he’s as mild as you say, but be a lad and put something on that lid to keep him in? Charlotte would be livid if the little devil escaped before I even get him home.”
“Absolutely, sir,” the salesman’s voice was so sickly sweet that Oscar cringed. He’d never heard so much false warmth in it before.
Something rustled against the side of the box and then snapped into place. Oscar glanced up and spotted the stretched tan of a rubber band through one of his air holes. He had even less chance of escape now, and he never once planned to try. He was too afraid of what might happen if he did.
“An absolute pleasure doing business, sir,” the salesman said, and the box lurched forward. Oscar felt a sickly bolt of electricity through him with the knowledge that he’d changed hands again. The new human thought he owned him.
“No, thank you,” the new human said before he turned away. Oscar imagined an enormous door, but it didn’t lead to freedom. “Cheers.”
Curling his fist closer around Jacob, Dean lifted up the kid so he could get his first good look at him since getting home. “How’m I supposed to know that though?” he griped, squinting his eyes so he could see Jacob clearly.
Easier said than done. The whiskey from the bar had blurred Dean’s vision to the point where Jacob’s tiny, delicate features hard to see. Dean nudged one of the boots that dangled from the bottom of his hand, touching the leg to see if it was hurt.
Jacob hadn’t expected it out of Dean after earlier. He’d half expected to receive the cold shoulder, or at most a noncommittal acknowledgement that he existed.
This was definitely not the cold shoulder.
Dean’s hands were warm and his pulse heavy, both things Jacob noticed right away. The grasp around him wasn’t tight, but it didn’t seem as controlled as usual. The smell of a bar clinging to the skin of each hand added to it. Jacob squirmed enough to pull his arms free and loop them over Dean’s knuckles, ready to hang on if things became bumpy.
1) This prompt came in ages ago and I’m 99% sure it was actually meant for @nightmares06, but I hoarded it anyway.
2) It’s a really cute idea and also the thing I wrote did not end up exactly like this (since most borrowers probably don’t pray) but I think it fits pretty well.
3) My failed sneak peek guessing game was referring to this story. Surprise. It was Cas all along.
4) Long-ish read, about 2k words. Couldn’t find a good place to split it up.
¯_(ツ)_/¯
“Quiet as a mouse.”
One of Oscar’s favorite phrases, the words became something of a mantra for him when he went out looking for supplies. He had long since forgotten where he learned it. So many people came and went every day, and so many of them left the TV on full volume. Any one of them could have taught him about it.
As far as Oscar was concerned, “quiet as a mouse” was the ultimate goal. He’d learned a lot from his furry neighbors within the walls. The motel offered a haven, but only so long as no humans knew they were there.
Oscar had known the comings and goings of the mice for years. He’d taken a trick or two from them. His steps were as silent as theirs were, so his cloth-wrapped feet could carry him undetected through even the dustiest of passages.
These skills kept him hidden day in and day out checking rooms. Even occupied rooms never noticed his passing by. Humans often wouldn’t even imagine someone like Oscar (or even just a mouse) would be around.
He told himself this over and over, and still he was afraid now.
Out in a room, hanging from the back of the nightstand, Oscar was frozen. The crumbs stuffed into his cloth bag were heavier than ever on his shoulder, and his hands gripped the lamp cord with white knuckles.
“Dean, wait! ” Jacob cried, lifting one hand as if he might halt the towering human himself. His eyes were wide and his heart pounded, residual from the sharp reaction he’d gotten. Dean’s walls had slammed down like a ton of bricks, quickly enough to almost cause whiplash.
Jacob hadn’t given him the time he needed to cool off. He suddenly doubted any amount of time was enough.
“Please, you gotta listen to me,” he yelled, trying to ensure Dean could hear his tiny voice from his full height. Normally, Jacob would want to back off, but this was too important.
Brothers Apart 