Tag: g/t writing

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January 5th excerpt:

“Dean! ” Sherlock called, cutting off John’s comment as he took long strides toward the kitchen. It was the most likely place they’d find the tiny man. Sherlock had no doubt the Winchesters’ food supply had been greatly depleted that night and would need to be refilled.

Biting back a cringe at the volume of Sherlock’s voice, John heaved a weary sigh as he followed his flatmate.

The silence in the kitchen shattered, Dean burst out from behind the glassware on the countertop, looking more frazzled than normal. His duffel was discernibly thicker than before, and a biscuit hung out of his other arm. Clearly, he had been busy in the time since they’d seen him last.

“What?! ” Dean hissed. “And, what the hell?! How do you possibly always know where I am? It’s ruining my mystique!”

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January 4th excerpt:

As much as John wished they could do this without risking so much, risking Dean, he admired the kid’s bravery and willingness to put himself on the line to protect others.

With a grunt, John pushed himself to his feet. “Right then,” he murmured. “On to battle.”

Wings of Freedom

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image

AU: Brothers Apart

Timeline: During the Winchesters three month stay at Trails West after Taken

Bree gasped as she saw a large, blue-winged butterfly swoop down from the edge of the roof she was sitting under next to Sam. Its beautiful, iridescent wings caught the last beams of sunlight, shimmering a radiant color she hadn’t seen before.

Sam laughed, holding out his good arm. The butterfly was not bothered by the two small people standing there, and alighted on his arm, antennae brushing against his hair and tickling at his face. Sam turned towards Bree. “Have you seen one before?” he asked, his eyes glowing.

She nodded, her eyes wide. “But only from the window in Beth’s room,” she confided in Sam.

“Here,” he said, clasping her hand. The butterfly curiously walked over his jacket, its delicate feet picking at the fabric. “But don’t touch the wings,” he warned, looking at the scales. “They’re very delicate, and you could rub the scales off.”

Her mouth was open in awe as the delicate creature made its way up to her shoulder, brushing at her golden blonde locks as it examined her. The beautiful wings opened and closed slowly a few times, and then the delicate feet pushed off.

She and Sam watched the butterfly flap a few times, quickly circling around them before veering back into the sky, resuming its search for flowers. The two small people under the overhang were calm and the girl was colorful, but they had no sustenance to offer, and so the butterfly’s journey was not over.

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January 3rd excerpt:

John rubbed his neck sheepishly and averted his gaze for a moment, feeling larger and more cumbersome than ever. Being called a giant and described as rumbling really put their actions into perspective. Something as simple as moving to the next room was enough to tip Dean off.

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January 2nd excerpt:

John’s anger melted as Dean’s voice rang out from near Sherlock’s feet.

“Dean…” he breathed as he looked down at the tiny man, awkwardly shuffling to sit at the end of Sherlock’s bed. It still made his heart race to see either of the brothers on the floor. Dean had managed to catch their attention quickly this time, but John always feared the idea of him or Sam being unable to make themselves known to their larger flatmates.

Waking Up Tired

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Where we left off with Brothers Lost, Sam, Dean, and Jacob left behind a house once haunted by the littlest ghost ever. Here’s a little update on what’s going on with Dean’s favorite resident of the walls in that house, a special treat to start the new year off right!

Melanie awoke to a shuffling in her home. She blinked her eyes slowly, staring around in brief confusion while her mind took its time waking up. There was some weak light filtering in, courtesy of a strategically placed seam in the wallpaper of the humans’ “guest room”. It illuminated the tidy little house she kept.

It took her a moment to register that someone else was in the house with her. Their back was turned as they brushed dust off of a doll’s vanity chest that she kept to one side of her home.

She sat up sluggishly in her bed so she could better see out of its alcove. The curtain separating it from the main room of the house was drawn aside, and she could swear it hadn’t been when she went to sleep. “Mom, what are you doing over here?” she croaked, lifting a hand to rub at her eyes and yawn.

Her mother turned to offer a bemused grin. “Sweetie, you were going to come and visit us today. Did you oversleep?” She made her way over to stand at the end of the bed.

Melanie yawned again and patted her hair ruefully. “I’ve been tired all week,” she admitted.

Her mother clucked her tongue. “What, haven’t you been eating enough since you sent a human to go get a bunch of food?” she teased.

Melanie wrinkled her nose and shot her mother a mock sour face. “I didn’t send a human anywhere. He volunteered,” she said, the same old story she always used when the subject came up.

Jacob, an absolutely massive human, had indeed volunteered to bring food and supplies to the house. The resident humans had been gone for too long, and his kindness not only saved Melanie and her family from a few hard days, he’d stocked them up to last well after their humans returned the next week. They’d probably be set for months, if not a year, on all the things he brought back.

She could hardly believe it all herself, but there was at least one human out there who was sympathetic to little folk like them.

Somehow, he’d ended up traveling with two people that fit on his hand. Brothers, on a mission to help people from all kinds of unexplainable things while they sought their dad. Melanie never was sure how exactly they planned to find him, and she never thought to ask.

No, while Sam, the younger brother, left to get supplies with Jacob the human, Melanie had her mind on other things. Dean, a handsome drifter, had caught her attention quickly and held it when they arrived at the house. His stay was brief, but she had her memories.

“Oh my God, Mel,” her mother said with a laugh, breaking Melanie out of her thoughts. “You really are worn out. You’re about to drift off just sitting there, are you sure you want to come today? Papa will understand if you want to rest.”

Melanie shook her head. “No, no, I’m fine,” she said, waving her hand. “Just a slow start.”

After kicking her blankets out of the way, Melanie scooted to the end of her bed. It was just like any other day, right until she tried to stand. A dizzy wave crashed over her and she faltered.

When it passed, she found her mother had caught her, and now had firm hands on her arms to keep her standing. “Goodness, Mel, are you sure you’ve been eating enough? We have so much from that human, you really can have more!”

Melanie huffed and turned away from her mother to wander to her vanity. The small mirror hooked into it was tarnished on the corner, but it worked well for her otherwise. She combed her fingers through her bedraggled hair to smooth out the pin-straight locks. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “But … have you guys been to raid the fruit bowl for one of those mini oranges the humans always get?”

Her mother fell silent, long enough for Melanie to look over her shoulder with her own bemused look. She found her mother looking her over critically, and turned to face her. “Mom?”

Her mother suddenly grinned widely. “Oh, Melanie,” she said, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “I think I know why you’re tired.” After that, she went to a deep plastic lid that Melanie used to hold her shirts and dresses. Rummaging through it, she picked out something for Melanie to put on, that smile still lighting up her face. “We should get back to see your papa and send him to get you an orange.”

Melanie didn’t take the long tunic her mother held out to her. Instead, she fixed her with a confused frown. “Uh. Mom? What’re you smiling about?”

The tunic was shoved into her hands anyway. “You’re tired, sweetie. Tired for a week, you said.”

“Yes, I am, but it’s not because I’m starving,” she countered, drifting towards her bedroom alcove to change in spite of her confusion. Her mother waited, practically bouncing on her feet in the excitement.

“Melanie, sweetie. This is … when I was pregnant with you, do you know what was the first food on my mind every day?”

Melanie stopped with only one arm in a sleeve. She glanced down at herself, and then leaned out of the alcove to stare at her mother in shock. “What?”

“Oranges, Mel. And I was tired as all get out, some mornings your father practically had to yell to get me to wake up. How long ago was that handsome man of yours here?” her mother said, giving her a wink.

Melanie blushed and ducked back into her alcove to hastily finish changing. “A … um. A few weeks,” she answered. Her mother chuckled knowingly again, and left her with the conclusion nagging at her head.

Then, as the situation sank in, Melanie sat with a huff on her bed. Her cheeks practically blushed fire. “Oh. Oh, mom,” she said, her hands covering her face sheepishly. There was a smile hiding there.

“I’m … I’m gonna have a baby.”

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January 1st excerpt:

Taking a deep breath, Dean brought himself to his current conundrum. He needed a way into Sherlock’s room without going all the way back around to the entrances they commonly used. All he needed was a little crack in the wall, some weak spot… Dean pressed his hands to the wall, pushing at a spot that had what looked like a water spot.

He hissed when it gave under his touch, and delicately pushed it just enough to squeeze into the walls. From there, he didn’t have far he could go considering how small the slip of wall was between the bathroom door and the door to the hall, but it was enough for Dean to find another crack that lead to Sherlock’s room. Old buildings had their uses, especially for people who lived in the walls.

And then Dean was in a room with two giants, one clearly angry.

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Dean actually does pretty good when he first encounters smols, so it would have gone worse than it did, but not as bad as it could. As seen in Walt’s and Jacob’s first encounters with Dean in various AUs, he’s likely to grab, disarm and then trap, likely in a vase (while Jacob would grab a coffee pot), but he’s also very methodical. He won’t hurt Sam purposely, and will keep him trapped while he figures things out. Chances are, the brothers will figure each other out long before Dean calls Bobby up for advice, and if they didn’t, Bobby would scold Dean and tell him to let the little guy go. 

Idjit.

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December 31st excerpt:

The humans weren’t kept waiting long. At the back of the shelf, beyond where any of the books would reach unless they were shoved back all the way, Dean’s little shadow slipped from the corner. The crack he came from was expertly concealed to be hidden from view if one of the books in front was removed.

With the books gone, Dean had never felt so exposed leaving his own front door.

The tension in the air was so thick in the main room of the flat that even Dean picked up on it. He stepped up to the edge of the fabric John had gathered, his eyebrows going up as he saw it was all the same color. It didn’t take him long to piece together the fact that John had shredded a shirt for them to use, brushing a hand over a freshly-frayed edge.

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December 30th excerpt:

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, doing his best not to cause too large of a breeze for his passengers, John looked to Sherlock. “Lead the way, then,” he muttered.

Sherlock stood and walked from the kitchen to the main room and John, holding his breath, lifted his hands from the table and followed. He stepped slowly and carefully to keep the ride as smooth as possible.

He felt like a bus. A giant, inefficiently shaped bus.