August 8th excerpt:
Dean side-eyed Jacob as he tucked his wallet and phone into his pants. “I don’t do girlfriends,” he said shortly, the image of his latest fling on his mind as he shoved the rest of his supplies into his duffel bag. “This job doesn’t leave room for attachments.”
Interlude
The Lounge was a lively place, but for once Oscar didn’t mind. Back in the motel, if a room was full of humans being loud or boisterous, he had to avoid them at all costs. They couldn’t find out he was there, or he’d be in danger.
It wasn’t the same in the Lounge, where they all knew he was around and they all seemed willing to look out for him. He could walk across the open floor safely, and the most he’d get was a hello from a Dean or a Jacob standing high overhead. He could explore as much as he wanted, and even go get food whenever he felt like it.
When he got a strange feeling in his core that he had to leave, he didn’t like it at all. His eyes strayed to the tall doorway and he frowned.
Beyond this strange place, he would be alone again. Left behind just when he thought he might get to leave his motel and not be afraid anymore. He’d go back to hiding away from everyone and hoping he might find enough crumbs to eat every day.
He didn’t want to leave. It was just like his Dean had mentioned so early on, when others first started arriving. He didn’t want to leave.
Oscar glanced around to see what the others were doing, but no one else seemed to notice anything amiss. With a sigh, he found a space under one of the tables and huddled down. Maybe, if he didn’t come out for a while, it would be like he had left, without actually going anywhere. Maybe.
A pair of shiny black leather shoes and black slacks ambled towards the table. They definitely didn’t belong to any of the Deans or either of the Jacobs. Those guys all wore jeans. Oscar wasn’t the only one, in fact, watching the progress of those steps with rapt attention.
The bartender never came out from behind the bar, it seemed. Until now.
Oscar huddled even smaller as the steps came towards the very table where he hid. He tried to scoot around the base to put something between them, but stopped just as the footsteps did. As he watched, the man knelt down so he could see under the table.
Golden eyes that usually lit up with some hidden mischief fixed on him right away, and Oscar froze. There was almost pity there. He was so surprised that he didn’t even argue or try to squirm away when a hand reached under the table to scoop him up. He clung to the bartender’s thumb as he was lifted up, out from the shadows.
“Hey, champ,” Gabriel greeted him, smirking at the kid. Even to him, a head shorter than any of the other human-sized folk in the Lounge, Oscar was small when seated on his palm. “You got a job to do.”
Oscar huffed quietly and pushed himself to his feet. He felt like it hardly made a difference at all; he still looked so tiny on a hand. Whoever was still watching from other tables could probably hardly see him.
“I … I don’t want to,” he admitted, his voice breaking in the middle. His eyes stung and his vision blurred, but he tried to keep it together. He really tried.
The bartender’s eyebrows went up and he shrugged in a ‘what can you do’ manner. “I know it, kid. I put together a pretty sweet place to hang out. But right now you gotta go.”
Oscar took a steadying breath and some quiet tears raced down his cheeks. He couldn’t quite find the words to explain just how lonely he would be if he left. Here, he had multiple copies of his only friends in the whole world, and then some. Here, he was warm and safe and fed.
“I don’t wanna leave,” he echoed. He didn’t even try to brush away the tears this time and he sniffled. “Why can’t I just stay here?”
Gabriel sighed and his invisible wings shifted uncomfortably. He was all about playing pranks whenever possible. He reveled in the kinds of things humans could come up with on their own, and when it called for it a playful nudge was always ready. And, when he thought they needed to be taught a thing or two, he was right there with a lesson tailor made to them. Just desserts, like a cake with their names iced on the top right before he tossed them into a wormhole (to name one of his simpler examples).
This kid … as far as he knew, there wasn’t a lesson he needed to be taught. He’d definitely earned a chance to stay in a place as awesome as the Lounge, but…
“Sorry, kid. I don’t make the rules … well, I did. But they’re like that for a reason.”
Oscar stared imploringly for a second longer before ducking his head and brushing at his eyes. It only made room for more tears to come, as he all but gave up on his argument. He didn’t have it in him to fight hard like the Winchesters did.
“Woah, woah, buddy,” Gabriel said, interrupting the kid’s crying and ignoring the others completely. “I didn’t say you couldn’t come back, now did I? You just gotta go take care of something and then,” he snapped the fingers on his other hand, “you’ll be back and your friends will be waiting.”
Oscar didn’t look up, but he nodded anyway. He knew the Lounge would welcome him back, but he wished he didn’t have to go. Not back to what he had in his actual reality.
“I’ll getcha to the door, kid. You just gotta walk through it,” Gabriel told him gently. Oscar swayed on his hand as he moved, but Gabriel had steadier hands than any human alive. He knelt smoothly by the door to let the kid step off, never once jostling him on the way.
Oscar stood in front of the huge door while the bartender stood back to his full height and pushed it open with one hand. No one could really tell what was beyond that threshold. It was just outside the Lounge. Nothing more, nothing less.
Oscar glanced over his shoulder to see the others in the room one last time before he faced forward and walked through it.
August 7th excerpt:
The t-shirt in the drawer provided plenty of fabric for Jacob to get lost in, and all Dean could make out was a barely visible tuft of brown hair sticking out of a fold. Fighting back a smile, Dean slipped a hand into the drawer and somehow managed to wiggle his fingers underneath the shirt, scooping Jacob and the t-shirt up as one.
With care, Dean settled the bundled up shirt on the part of the bed recently vacated by himself. Some of the warmth from his body remained in the sheets, and he left Jacob there as he went to get ready for the day.
August 6th excerpt:
The little lump in Dean’s mouth was the last thing on his mind as he sat bolt upright, glancing around the room and trying to find his mysterious attacker. He blinked blearily at the glowing numbers on the nightstand, his mind beginning to work its way to being fully awake as the late hour started to sink in.
What the hell’s going on… was the most coherent thought Dean could manage.
August 5th excerpt:
Part of the spike of Dean’s hair was squashed into the pillow he lay on. Jacob stepped back to survey his chances, and then made a short hop forward to stumble onto Dean’s forehead.
Once there, Jacob froze and let what he was doing really sink in. He stood on a human’s face, with a pen tucked under one arm ready to draw on said face. He was about to prank a giant.
August 4th excerpt:
The moment those fingers closed around him, Jacob felt his heart skip a beat. Even knowing Dean wouldn’t hurt him or keep him trapped like that, he couldn’t help the bolt of pure instinct that raced through his system. Until Dean opened his hand, he was trapped, truly and completely.
Dean replaced the cue ball on the table, and Sam attempted the shot again, this time hitting the ball off one of the solids and sinking it in the pocket. He grinned.
“We found Godzilla,” Dean corrected the younger Jacob, looking away from Sam’s lesson. “Or at least, his pie.”
The so-called ‘Godzilla’ smirked again and shrugged. “Looks like us Jacobs have trouble with first impressions,” he pointed out. “And yet Dean here still gave me a job as their driver.”
Younger Jacob’s eyebrows went up. “You got to drive the Impala?” It was obvious to anyone who saw Dean near that black-and-chrome behemoth that it was important to him. The care that went into that car was meticulous.
“Jacob helped rebuild the Impala,” Dean corrected again as Sam took another shot. “Since Dad didn’t have the heart to drive her anymore.”
Sam sunk a second ball, straightening proudly. Now he was closing the gap between him and Dean. There was a chance he could turn this lesson around on his older brother. He lined up a third shot while Dean was distracted lecturing two Jacobs.
“And now he’s part of the team,” Dean finished, “since we needed a driver. Hey–!”
Dean finally spotted Sam as he sank a third ball, huge grin on his face. “You were saying about lessons?”
The older Jacob smirked. Sam always had that way of keeping Dean in check, especially since his size made him extra hotheaded. Inwardly, he was proud all over again that he’d gotten enough trust to be invited along on hunts with the small Winchesters. His younger self would probably get his own Dean’s trust, eventually.
For now, he was welcome to hang out with them. Older Jacob leaned down slightly to count out what remained on the pool table with Sam slowly turning the tide in his favor. “Got some catching up to do, Dean,” he quipped, knowing it would just rile him up even more.
Younger Jacob cracked a grin of his own. He reached down to the stand where the unused pool sticks waited. It took some work, but he managed to pinch one in his fingers without knocking the others over.
“I got next game,” he jested, brandishing the little thing proudly.
Dean gave Jacob a flat look back, but Sam chimed in, “You bet!” as he sunk his fourth in a row.
“Since when are you a sniper?” Dean bitched as he sized up the table, and Sam missed his fifth hit. “You didn’t even know what chalk was a few minutes ago!”
Sam shrugged. “Beginners luck?”
And he grinned.
“Or just a good hustle,” the older Jacob muttered, his own grin widening. He hadn’t had much chance to get to know this Sam yet. He did know, however, that Sam knew all the precise buttons to push to needle his brother. Growing up together with almost no one else around would do that.
“Good thing you didn’t put anything on the line for this game,” younger Jacob added in.
“Maybe next time,” Sam said, sauntering to the side.
Dean took a few more shots, glowering when he scratched on the second, and Sam took his place. The game was quickly over between the brothers as Sam took out each of his balls one after the other, and the last was a double, and then the eight ball in the corner pocket.
“Rack ‘em, loser,” Sam said jauntily.
Jacob mirrored Sam’s smirk, though he tried to make sure Dean didn’t spot it. He took his leave of their table and felt less like he was looming over Sam and Oscar so much. Even up on the table, they could easily fall into someone’s shadow.
He wandered closer to the entertainment area where his counterpart stood. The kid on the arcade machine was intent on it, and Jacob noticed belatedly that someone else was on the mini-version of the arcade console, too. The systems were put together so well that Jacob couldn’t even tell who was playing who.
Getting closer, he realized there were two small figures at one of the tiny pool tables. The other Jacob was absently watching both games, hands in his hoodie pocket.
“Hey,” Jacob greeted, unsure. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to talk to himself face to face, but wasn’t actually sure what he’d say.
The older Jacob grinned. “Hey, dude, good to see another me around. But who gave you the shiner?”
The newcomer Jacob touched faintly at the bruised skin around his eye. “I uh. The Dean I know actually decked me pretty soon after meeting him. Didn’t … make a good impression on him.”
“Score one for the Deans!” Dean called up to the Jacobs as he bridged his fingers on the pool table, pulling back and striking at the cue ball. The tiny clinking of pool balls could be heard from down on the table as he took the first shot, scoring two balls in the pocket holes. “Awesome!” he declared, prowling around the side of the table to size up his next shot.
Sam was standing to the side, absently rubbing the tip of pool stick. Having shrunk at ten, he only remembered a few vague lessons from Dean on the game, all done furtively at the bar while their dad was busy. Dean had declared it time for some overdue lessons the second he discovered there was equipment tailored to their size, including pool sticks aplenty to choose from. He’d tested the heft and weight of a few, finding one that felt perfect to him and had Sam test out some.
Dean lined up his next shot, and sunk it in the side pocket. “See that, Sammy? Just gotta learn from the master,” he said, just this side of preening as he took another shot. This one bounced off, and he surrendered the table to Sam.
“So, Dean got the best of you?” Dean called up to the new Jacob by their table, smirking. “Godzilla over here is regretting the first time he grabbed me, let me tell you.”
The taller Jacob rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny it. Instead, one hand emerged from his pocket and he held it out to show off two healing scars. One adorned his fingertip, and the other had been a nasty gash closer down on his arm. “They definitely make an impression, these Winchesters.”
Younger Jacob’s eyebrows shot up. He held up his thumb, displaying the bandaging wrapped tightly around it. His ‘impression’ from his own Sam was much more recent. “Sam really caught me off guard with his knife,” he agreed mulishly. He knew he’d earned it.
“Looks like your Dean had something to say, too,” older Jacob said with a grin. “Don’t worry. If he’s anything like this guy,” he pointed a thumb down at the tiny, smug Dean on the table, “he’ll probably come around eventually.”
Young Jacob nodded, glancing between the three of them. “So … I’m guessing you found them together?” he asked his older self. “I just found Sam, we had to go find Dean.”
Sam focused on his shot, trying to ignore the banter around him. His pool stick hit the cue ball, and the white ball jumped.
“Scratch!” Dean said sternly. He picked up a tiny blue square from the edge of the table and tossed it at Sam. To either Jacob, it would look the size of a grain of rice, but for the brothers it would serve its purpose. “Don’t rub the chalk off the tip,” he chided as Sam begrudgingly chalked his pool stick. “Try again.”
August 2nd excerpt
Jacob relinquished his death grip on the ropes and aimed the most powerful kick he could at Dean’s arm behind him. He knew very well how little impact his presence could have, and he couldn’t afford for Dean not to know he was there. “Quit for a second, I was almost done!”
By some stroke of luck, the blade hadn’t fallen to the ground when Dean tried to wrench his arm free. It was lodged in the rope Jacob was working on, only about halfway through and wedged among the tight coils. Jacob ignored the muscles clenching behind him and grabbed the small weapon again to renew his process of cutting Dean free.
“Oh,” Oscar replied, finally edging all the way out from under the table. He glanced past the new Dean to the new Jacob, noticing that the other human didn’t opt to sit at the table, too. Oscar couldn’t blame him; sometimes Dean (any Dean!) could be intimidating.
Oscar fidgeted with his little cloth bag while the other Jacob glanced around the room. The others were probably picking up the facts about the place like anyone new did. The Lounge had that weird effect, but no one really questioned it.
He decided he could always help it along, too. These were another Sam and Dean, new versions of his best friends in the world.
“You can go talk to anyone and rest wherever,” he explained to the nearby Sam. “There’s lots of everyone here, the other Jacob even came with a Sam and a Dean our size! The smaller Dean really likes the pie the bartender makes, I tried some and it’s good.”
“I bet it was,” Jacob answered with a smile. He was endeared by the tiny child hovering near Sam, but opted to keep some distance. He didn’t want to give the Dean he knew a reason to snip at him again; Jacob had hurt his Sam, and was still on probation for it.
“Yea, I think we already met those two,” Dean grumbled, remembering the mini-him that had snipped at him first thing.
“Dean got himself in trouble,” Sam chimed in. “Gotta watch his step around… himself.” He was bemused by the entire concept of a brother standing at his scale. A snicker leaked out, unable to contain it anymore.
Oscar covered his mouth with a hand, but it didn’t stop a quiet laugh of his own, catching it from Sam. He was only keeping up with how many Deans there were because the atmosphere of the Lounge helped him. He couldn’t even imagine what the actual Deans and Sams were feeling, seeing so many doubles of themselves. Part of him hoped a group might arrive with another Oscar so he wouldn’t be the odd one out.
“It’s kinda scary walking out in the middle of the floor, but I kinda like that we can,” he mused. Going back home after this would be a bitter disappointment. “I can show you around, if you wanna, when you’re done resting. I’ve been exploring since I got here.“
Jacob smiled faintly. Oscar was opening right up after starting out hiding from them, though he stayed close to Sam. It probably comforted the kid to have someone his own size nearby; he was so tiny.
"I might go and say hi to … me,” he said, offering the kid a little wave. “But I’ll take you up on your tour if you want to later.”
“Kay,” Oscar answered shyly, tilting his head back to meet Jacob’s gaze. He wasn’t as tall as the other Jacob just yet … but he was still a big human.
“Just don’t bugging any of the smaller guys,” Dean warned Jacob, glued to his seat so long as Sam remained near Oscar. “Me or not.”
Sam rolled his eyes and stalked over to Dean’s hand to deal a sharp kick at it. “Dean! You’re the one that’s making a bigger deal out of things than you should!”
Dean’s eyebrows went up in mock offense, moving his hand out of range of Sam. “I’m not the one who got myself caught!”
Sam flipped Dean the bird and turned back to Oscar. “I’d love to hear what you know about this place,” he said welcomingly. “It’s a good start before we go… pissing off any other Deans.” He smirked.
Brothers Apart 