“Milk for growing bones!” the bartender announced, dropping two cups off at the tiny bar for the young Sam and Oscar where they stood.
“What’s your story, kid?” called the smaller Dean from his spot. He patted the seat next to him. “C’mon! Join us!”
Oscar looked up from his hands, where he was counting out how many people were at the bar now. Realizing that the Dean over there– a Dean at his scale!– was talking to him, he perked up in surprise. “O-okay,” he answered, glancing to his Sam curiously.
There sure were a lot of Sams and Deans to keep track of.
He started towards the bar and finally noticed the biggest person there was watching him. His head tilted back to meet Jacob’s curious but gentle gaze. Even from up on the bar, he was huge.
“Hey, bud,” Jacob greeted as quietly as he could. His deep voice still startled the absolutely minuscule child. Oz couldn’t be much more than two inches, even smaller than the young Sam walking with him.
“Um. Hi!” Oscar replied, before finally reaching the bar. Scrambling up onto the stool next to the small Dean, he had to grip the edge to keep from spinning around on the stool. As fun as that sounded, he had at least one thing to set straight.
He stared in awe at the Dean his size. Still a much taller man. “I’m Oscar, ” he said, making sure the guy at least knew his actual name before the nickname sank in.
“And he’s shortstop,” regular Dean put in from behind their seats, smirking as his tiny doppelgänger’s annoyed scowl.
“My name is not shortstop!” he snapped up at Dean. “At least my ass ain’t the size of Texas! ”
“Oh, I’m shaking in my boots,” Dean said dryly, a wry grin across his face as he needled his tiny double.
“Dean, chill,” his Sam sighed, pushing against the hand Dean had draped near the tiny bar.
Once the smaller Dean was sure Dean was done with his shit, and the second Sam sat down next to his young counterpart, waving for his own beer, to the annoyance of the teenager Dean (“Everyone gets a drink but me,” he mumbled in annoyance.), the smaller Dean was able to focus on Oscar.
“Oscar, eh?” he asked, skipping on the nickname after his own trouble escaping his. “You been keeping these two out of trouble?”
The young Sam sitting next to Oscar pulled his cup of milk closer and giggled. “Only Dean gets himself into trouble!”
Oscar grinned and nodded, following along with his Sam and answering Dean at the same time. After watching so many of the others bicker, with other versions of themselves, he was almost surprised to be addressed again. Normally he’d be more frightened in this situation, but for now he was simply nervous, and that was normal for him.
He took a curious sip of his own glass of milk. The first time he ever tried it.
“I showed Sam how ta climb! I showed my Sam, anyway,” he explained, looking to the smaller Dean again and hoping for his approval.
“An’ I showed him how to get in the walls and hide and stuff, since he was new to being our size and he needed a teacher. I never got to be a teacher before. It was real fun, I wish…. I wish I coulda done more.”
The small Dean smiled, as proud as Oscar hoped. “You did exactly what you should.” Oscar beamed with pride of his own.
“See Sam?” the regular Dean nudged his Sam, noticing that the two older Sams were sitting on the outside of the bar, guarding the others. “You coulda gotten by without Walt!”
Sam huffed, pushing Dean’s finger away. “Looks like you did a good job,” he complemented Oscar, ruffling his younger counterpart’s hair. “And there’s always hope for another chance.” After hearing the kid’s story earlier, his heart went out for the youngest and scrawniest there. Oscar would be alone when he left the Lounge, the only one on his own out of everyone there.
“So what about you two?” the regular Dean turned the question around on the pair of tiny Winchesters. “I have got to hear about how you two hooked up with Godzilla over here!”
That Sam smirked. “It all started with this pie we found…”
“Do not insult the pie!” tiny Dean bitched, sweeping his slice protectively off the bar and cradling it close. “That was the best pie I’ve ever had!”
Jacob laughed, keeping it quiet for the small, sensitive ears of the smaller occupants of the bar. The nickname that his own Dean had given him almost sounded strange coming from someone else. It was another Dean, with a story of his own, arriving at the same exact jab at Jacob’s size.
“It was kinda a rough start,” he admitted, watching as little Oscar eyed the slice of pie Dean was defending. Without even having to ask, the kid had his own tiny slice placed in front of him by that ever-amused bartender. It was like he pulled things out of thin air.
“I was between jobs and I stopped at a diner, left a slice of pie in a to go box on the table. Someone couldn’t resist.” He winked at his own Dean, getting their story going while the others listened in.
Above their heads, the television screen rippled until the words Chasing Family were proudly displayed.
Soon, the bartender knew, more would join them.
The fun was only just beginning.
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