Oh, Dean knows the first thing that’ll happen is Walt will lecture them until their ears fall off. Another part that would hold Dean back is Sean is very nervous and shy around him. A big human lecturing the teeny kid might make him scared, and that’s the last thing that Dean would ever want to do. Plus, Dean’s become good at not moving at night out of habit for when Sam’s hanging out in a pocket, so they weren’t in any danger.
Sam cautiously pushed open the door of his room, glancing around the dark interior before stepping in. It closed behind him with a click as he padded over to the light switch, trying to soften his footsteps as he went.
“Dean?” he called out as he snapped on the light, peering around every corner he could see. “You here?”
When no answer came, he carried his bags over to the table, piling them on the surface. He started to go through them, pulling out his lunch and a white container from the local quickee shop.
“Y’know, you need to work on your sneaking skills,” came a teasing voice from down on the ground.
Surprised, Sam pulled his feet off the floor, searching for the small figure. Dean was standing down next to the leg of the bed.
“I’m not trying to sneak around in my own room!” Sam shot back, watching wide-eyed as his tiny big brother darted out into the open, heading for the table. Watching Dean toss his small hook at the table, catching it on the edge of one of the bags Sam had placed there moments ago, was mesmerizing. He was so small, but he didn’t seem to have an issue getting around at all.
It was only a moment before Dean managed to scramble to the top, sauntering with a casual bow-legged walk across the wooden surface. Boots barely the size of Sam’s fingertip scuffed against the grain. “What if there was someone in here waiting for you?” Dean pointed out as he stopped, putting his hands casually in the back pockets of his jeans.
Sam had to hold back the questions he had shaking around in his head. Where did Dean get his clothes from? How’d he survive? Did he live nearby?
And the hardest question of all, one that Sam had no right to ask.
Would Dean consider leaving the motel?
For now, he simply picked up the white container. “If there’s anyone in here, I figure you’d warn me,” he stated dryly.
Dean frowned, then nodded sharply. Sam smirked. They both remembered the old days where Dean had always watched out for him. It didn’t seem like anything had changed there.
Dean took a step towards the box, then warily eyed the huge hands around it. “What’s that?” he asked.
A flicker of hurt hit Sam at the clear suspicion and distrust, but considering just a day ago he’d grabbed Dean in a fist, he couldn’t blame his brother for it. Hopefully he’d be able to get past that roadblock.
Sam mentally shrugged it off as he opened the container. “I figured I owe you… for yesterday and… leaving you here, all that time ago.” He sighed, shoulders slumping down at the memories. “I can’t really make up for that,” he mumbled, “but I figured I could at least start.”
A light touch on his hand drew his attention away from the past. Dean was standing there, right next to the hands he was so wary around. “Sammy, that wasn’t your fault,” he said in a gruff voice that was deeper than he’d ever expected from someone so small. “We can’t change the past. You were never to blame in any of this.”
Sam blew his hair out of his eyes with a sigh. “Right.” He did his best to believe what Dean had said…
But still.
If he’d never left, Dean wouldn’t be afraid of him. His big brother wouldn’t be leery just standing near his hands. He could have taken care of his big brother the way family was supposed to.
Sam unfolded his hands from the box. “I hope your favorite’s still pie,” he said, letting himself smile again. “I know you used to love apple.”
Dean’s eyes were huge at the sight. A fresh slice of apple pie sat there, bigger than he was. “Holy shit…” he breathed. He took a step towards it, then hesitated. He craned his neck over his shoulder. “You got this… for me?” he asked in disbelief.
Sam’s grin covered his face. “Who else?” he asked back. “It’s all yours. I even have my own snack right over here.” He pulled out a wrap, taking off the aluminum foil to reveal his sandwich. “Take your time.”
Dean relaxed a little more, some of the tension that lingered from the other day dropping away. He walked up, putting a hand on the crumbling crust and breaking off a piece to stare at it for a moment. In complete disbelief that it was there, waiting for him. “Thanks, Sammy.”
John got the hell out of there. He didn’t actually know that Sam was cursed and with them until probably about a half hour into the drive. He thought that the witch had taken his youngest and was gunning for his eldest. His first thought was getting Dean the hell out of that motel and out of her reach.
Dean managed to pull himself together enough to reveal what he had cupped between his hands. Poor Sam was downsized to two and a half inches. They ended up on the side of the road when John was too shocked to keep driving.
With Sam unconscious and no way for them to wake him, they drove to Bobby’s. Dean refused to leave Sam’s side. While John and Bobby were desperately searching for a cure or a curse reversal, he was there with his brother in his hands, watching over him.
When Sam woke up a week later, he and Dean were in their own room at Bobby’s, but his bed was now too big. So Dean kept him on his chest to sleep, where he could make sure Sam was safe the entire time.
Dean groaned as he read over the text. “This is boring,” he grumbled. “We should sneak out and get ice cream.”
Sam scoffed, taking a few steps on Dean’s back. He’d started out perched on Dean’s head so he could read over the assignment, but Dean spent so much of his time grumbling over the work, he was still on the same page five minutes after Sam had finished.
After being this size for a few weeks, he was beginning to find it far more intriguing than frightening. So long as their dad wasn’t yelling at them, of course. Even now, he could feel the muscles shift under his feet as Dean finally went to turn the page. He was massively outsized, but perfectly safe where he was.
“Y’know that I can’t give you all the answers,” Sam pointed out, walking back up to a shoulder so he could peer off. “You need to do some of it for yourself.”
No one had spotted Sam yet, not even during a test. He was small enough to use the folds in the shirt to hide in, and his voice was soft enough that the other students couldn’t hear him. Dean’s grades had taken an upswing, even with the course material a few years ahead of where Sam was. It was a welcome challenge that he could use to keep his mind off things.
Dean reached the end of the reading and grabbed a notebook. “Whatever. But you’re still helping me with the homework, pint-size. Can’t have you slacking off either.”
Sam hid a smirk as he swung his legs off the edge of the shoulder, letting them dangle before he dropped down to the soft mattress below. He landed in a pile, bouncing slightly before he caught his balance. From this angle, he was completely bathed in shadow from above, Dean’s shoulders blocking the light.
Making his way over to the book, he glanced up at Dean. “Do you at least have something my size to write with?”
Dean looked like a deer in headlights when he was put on the spot. He glanced between Sam, who stood all of two and a half inches tall, and the pencil in his hand, which was easily five inches, if not longer.
“Uhh…” Dean trailed off.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Looks like you’ll still be doing the work,” he jabbed.
John crossed his arms, staring down at the brothers. “Mind explaining what the hell you were thinking?” he demanded of Dean.
Dean stiffened, annoyance flashing in his eyes. Sam was surprised. Even after everything, he was so used to Dean doing whatever their dad said like a good little soldier. But now, the older brother was in clear disagreement with the hunter.
Dean clenched a fist. “He’s not going to learn anything if we just lock him up all day. And I was watching out for him. No one ever saw him in my hood.”
John scowled. Sam shrank a little closer to Dean, intimidated by the angry glare. No matter how much he understood intellectually that he wasn’t going to be hurt, it was hard to see someone bigger than a building so angry.
Dean’s hand scooped Sam off the table when he wasn’t looking, too distracted by their father. He was cupped protectively by Dean’s chest while the boy continued arguing. “Dad, if we just keep him locked up like that, he’s going to get bored and he needs to stay sharp if he’s going to be this size, at least until we find a cure. You can’t watch him all day. At least if he’s with me, he’s safe.”
John didn’t move for a minute, sizing both his sons up with his arms crossed. “If anything happens to him, you’re responsible,” he snapped at Dean before stalking away.
Sam could feel the tension leak out of Dean the moment he was turned away. He didn’t say a word, holding his tongue as gratitude filled him. He wouldn’t be stuck in a massive room all day with nowhere to go.
Thanks to Dean, who’d stood up to their father for the first time.
BA Canon: Yes
Timeline: After The Golden Touch
Dean snorted. “No way.”
Sam glared up at him. “Seriously? You doubt me? After I saved your sorry ass from being a statue.” He shook his head mournfully with a smirk hiding in the corner of his lips.
Dean cocked an eyebrow at the bookshelf. “Sure, but you climbed a tree back there. I’m betting there’s a few more handholds on a tree than a shelf. The thing’s pretty much a cliff.”
Sam jabbed his hook at Dean. “If I can climb it, I get control over the television for a week.”
Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Deal.” He stuck a hand out.
Sam grinned confidently as he let Dean cautiously shake his much smaller arm between two fingers. “You’ll be eating your words,” he shot back at his big brother as the older hunter stood and stepped back.
“Better put your money where your mouth is, pint-size,” Dean said as he leaned against the wall. Standing, he was just as tall as the shelves he’d challenged Sam to climb. “Or I’ll be in charge of the TV for the week.”
Sam uncoiled his fishing line, the clear rope ready in his hands. He ignored the looming shadow of the older Winchester, knowing Dean wouldn’t interfere unless Sam slipped. For once, he actually had a safety net as he climbed. Normally, he was on his own when he tried foolhardy stunts like this. Walt would always lecture him, but he’d always do it again. He was one of the best climbers around, after all.
The first shelf was easy. An easy toss got the hook snagged on a vase. Sam tugged on the line, judging how solid the catch was. Only when he was certain that it wouldn’t shake free did he start climbing up.
The line he used was smooth, hard to climb directly up most days. After years of practice, his hands were becoming as callused as Dean’s, but for completely different reasons. The calluses gave him a better grip on his line, letting him haul his body up with nothing more than his hands.
He clambered up the first shelf, eyeing up his surroundings. Beyond the vase and a discarded Bible, he could see Dean’s knees, the thick legs crossed while he leaned against the wall. Sam couldn’t help a smile at the thought of using Dean to climb the rest of the way up, but pushed that thought away. Besides being an easy out, Dean would probably declare that ‘cheating.’
Sam flicked his line, releasing the hook from its snug fit. He held it at the ready, staring up at the shelf above. This time, the game would be interesting. The shelves were all even, so there was no way for him to reach the next one up without leaning out into the open air.
A careful examination of his surroundings revealed a bracket above, used to set the shelves into the wall. There were holes interspaced on the brackets, and one of them might be just far enough out for him to be able to use it to climb up. With a rush of confidence, Sam tossed his hook at the bracket.
And missed.
He growled as he pulled the line back. Dean leaned down with a smirk. “Need a hand?” he goaded Sam.
Sam ignored him, trying the shot again. At least in this case, there was no hurry, and no danger from the human nearby. No danger past the teasing and jokes, at least.
The second toss did it. He tugged on the line, then began climbing again. This time, his line didn’t make it all the way to the shelf, but he was able to grip the metal bracket, scaling up the last few inches. He unhooked his fishhook on the way, attaching it to the pocket Walt had made for a time just like this.
The grin wouldn’t leave his face after that level. The end of a blanket draped down from the shelf above, so he didn’t even need to get his hook back out to get to the third shelf, putting him at chest height for Dean and one shelf away from his goal. He caught his hook on the bracket on his first toss. Barely two minutes later, and he hauled himself up to the top, swaggering over to Dean’s surprised face with a knowing grin.
“So,” Sam smirked. “Who’s up for some Star Wars this week?”
BA Canon: Yes
Timeline: During the two month stay at the motel while Sam’s arm heals
( Part 2 of 2 )
A scattering of freckles surrounded Kara’s landing spot, each as thick as or thicker than her fingers. The skin wasn’t smooth this close, but it still had a soft feeling as long as she didn’t brush against the stubble under his nose.
Kara froze, afraid she’d woken up her friend. For a second, the eyebrows scrunched together, and Dean brushed his hair flat with his hand. Then the skin between his eyes evened out and the hand went back to his chest.
He was still asleep.
She let out a quiet giggle. “That was fun! ” Normally, she’d want to do it again, but first she needed to worry about getting off Dean’s nose without waking him.
This idea was encouraged when the hunter shifted under her. A deep breath was taken. She could feel the breeze pass her by even as it was pulled into immense lungs. A sigh rattled out of him, fading into silence.
She went to push up, but just ended up slipping back down from the awkward angle she was lying at. A fluttering next to her caught her attention, and she gave a small gasp at the sight of his long eyelashes as they moved. They were twice as long as her hand. She brushed her fingers over them, giggling at how the fluttering sensation tickled.
“Kara!”
Sean’s voice came from nearby, and she peered off from her perch. Sean was trying to keep his balance on the pillow next to Dean, but the weight of the human turned it into a steep slide before he could get close enough to climb up. “Kara, we should go!” he called to her, nerves starting to come out.
“I think that’s a good idea.”
The unexpected voice made Sean jump and Kara almost tumble from her perch. Walt was standing on the nightstand next to Dean’s watch, his arms crossed and a stern glare on his face.
“Aww!” Kara said. “But we didn’t even wake him up!” she pointed out.
Walt pursed his lips, trying to hide a smile. “You sure about that?” he asked.
“Huh?” Kara glanced back down at the hunter, and squeaked with surprise when she saw one of the big green eyes staring straight up at her.
The eye dilated as it tried to focus on the tiny girl, the skin next to the eye scrunching in a smile. She toppled off Dean’s nose in surprise only to be swept up in a hand before she hit the ground (in other words, Dean).
Dean let out a laugh of his own as he went to sit up, collecting Sean in his other hand. “How’d you figure it out?” he asked Walt as he held both hands near the smaller man to let Walt climb in with the kids. With both children already in Dean’s hands, there was no way the older man would turn down the help out of pride. He always remained near his charges.
“For one, there’s no way a hunter sleeps through Kara landing on his nose.” Walt mussed up her hair. “For another, you’re very bad at hiding smiles.”
Dean had to nod in response to that. People like Walt and Sam could read him like a book, he was coming to find. Small tells that were hidden to another human were as plain as day to someone the size of his finger.
Sean blinked up at the giant. “So you knew the whole time?” he asked, disappointed.
“Nope, just when this one decided to canonball my face,” Dean said with a gentle smile, nudging Kara lightly with a finger before he lowered them all down to the ground. “I think you two might want to stick to visits during the day. Safer all around for everyone.”
( Part 1 )
BA Canon: Yes
Timeline:
During the two month stay at the motel while Sam’s arm heals
( Part 1 of 2 )
“C’mon, slowpoke!” Kara hissed.
Sean, bringing up the rear by at least six inches, scuffed his feet against the ground. “What if we get caught? ” he asked plaintively.
She giggled. “We won’t get in trouble, silly. I promise, it’ll be fine!”
“But Walt…”
He was cut off when she darted back and grabbed his arm. She dragged him the rest of the way down the tunnel, all the way to where the exit was. “We’ll be fine! Just a quick look!”
Out in the motel room, night had fallen. Steady breaths could be heard from the towering bed above their heads, one huge arm draped off the side and motionless. Kara pushed Sean over to the bed cover, and they both used the thick fabric to climb up.
Dean was motionless up on the bed. One hand was draped over his chest, the left hand with his ring on it. The second hand that would normally have that massive, clunky watch on was hanging off the edge. Kara waved Sean on encouragingly, then scrambled up to Dean’s stomach. She bounced a little on the cushioned surface, laughing at the way her feet sank into the skin. If only he let them play like this when he was awake! But they had a plan tonight, and she tried to focus on that.
“See?” she whispered to Sean. “He’ll never know! His ring’s so big. We can just take a peek.”
Sean, spurred on by curiosity, followed her up the stomach and on to the chest. They arrived at the massive hand. Huge fingers were stretched out, a small space created under the arch of his palm that was actually big enough for them to fit under. Sean’s eyes widened at the thought. It had been less than a year since he’d been a human, and now he could hide under a hand with no one the wiser.
While he was staring in amazement, Kara snuck past him and slipped under the hand. “Whoa,” came her small voice. She stroked the thick silver, staring at the nicks and scratches that covered it. She couldn’t imagine how someone could actually have scratched up such a powerful looking ring.
Curious, she wrapped a hand around it, testing the thickness of the metal.
While she was under there, Sean’s eye was caught by something even more interesting. Moonlight glinted off a brass amulet, resting peacefully on Dean’s chest, another thing that they’d never even come close to. He slunk up to it, carefully eyeing Dean’s face to see if there was any sign the hunter had noticed them there. But the human slumbered on peacefully.
Sean nudged the amulet, then picked it up. It was heavy and solid. Instead of being cool to the touch like he’d expected, the brass face had picked up the body heat of its owner and was warm to the touch. A hand wrapped around the thick cord that it would normally hang suspended from, slipping up it to stare at all the small threads that were bound into one. It was amazing for Sean to think that when he was a human he couldn’t have even seen the detail that was in these objects. Dean couldn’t even see half this detail.
The hunter suddenly shifted, sending Sean sprawling a few inches down. Kara clung to the ring in surprise.
Dean’s hand lifted up, taking Kara with it. She gave a squeak of surprise as it passed over Sean, then over Dean’s face. Her fingers – clammy with sudden nerves – slipped, and she fell.
Right on Dean’s nose.
BA Canon: No || AU
Timeline: 2005 (The same week Dean and Sam reunited in canon BA)
(Part 5 of 5 )
Morning dawned the next day. Walt woke up from his uncomfortable position on the hardwood table. His back cracked and his neck was stiff after hours and hours on that hard surface. He groaned. The small bite of hamburger the human had offered him and the bottlecap of water were left to the side of the vase. He’d only eaten enough that he wouldn’t starve, refusing to indulge in the human’s ‘hospitality.’
The human was standing near the window of the room, arguing on his phone. “What the hell do you mean? Why didn’t you or dad tell me any of this before?!”
Walt flinched at the shouting, then pushed himself to the far side of the vase to get as far away from the man as he could. He could only hear one end of the conversation, and could only assume it was about him.
The human frowned. “You never even told dad?” Green eyes flashed over to Walt, making him stiffen up again. “Alright. I’ll do that. Thanks Bobby.”
The phone snapped closed and thudding footsteps brought the human back over to the table. “So,” came the deep voice once more. Walt glared up at him, certain that his fate of either being taken from the motel or killed was about to be announced.
He didn’t see it coming when the vase was lifted away. He stared up at the human in surprise, who sighed, an expression of guilt passing over his face. The human sat down at the table again, dropping the vase down on the floor.
“I just got off the phone with another hunter. He said he’s met a few people like you before.” The human leaned over a bit, making Walt shuffle back. All that happened was his bag and rope was gathered up and offered back to him. “He says you’re harmless. Same as humans, but smaller. So… I guess I owe you an apology for the whole ‘grabbing you’ thing…”
Walt couldn’t bring himself to talk at first, staring at the bag and rope piled in his arms. Those eyes staring at him were so sincere. He wet his lips, trying to compose himself. “So, you won’t kill me?” he asked guardedly.
The human shook his head. “Just… do yourself a favor and don’t go getting yourself caught in any other hunters’ rooms. There ain’t many that stop to ask questions.” A hand reached towards Walt.
Walt jerked back, stumbling over his feet to get away from the massive, crushing hand.
The human’s eyebrows went up. “I’m not gonna hurtcha, I promise!” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just figured I’d offer you a ride after what I put you through.”
“N-no,” Walt managed to get out. “I can get myself down. Just… no more grabbing, okay?”
The human nodded sadly. “Okay.”
Walt scaled down the table at the far edge from the human, worried about the man changing his mind. He kept a wary eye on those massive boots as well, remembering how close he’d come to getting stepped on. His back protested at the motion, but he refused to bend and ask for help from the human.
When he was on the ground and flicked his hook free, the human leaned over, peeking under the table. “I never found out your name…” he started haltingly. “Mine’s Dean.”
Walt stared back. The name Dean rung a bell… but for now he just wanted to get out of the room before worrying about this Dean grabbing him again. “I’m Walt,” he said gruffly as he walked to the back of the dresser. Just as he was about to slip back behind there and into the darkness he preferred, he glanced up at Dean, one last time. “Thanks for not being like those other hunters,” Walt said begrudgingly. “Not many would let someone like me go.”
Dean simply watched as he vanished behind the dresser, never to be seen again.
(
||
||
|| Part 4 )
BA Canon: No || AU
Timeline: 2005 (The same week Dean and Sam reunited in canon BA)
(Part 4 of 5 )
Dean frowned at the small man he’d captured. It had been over ten minutes since the blonde haired man had said a word, or even acknowledged that Dean was there. Tapping at the glass had only brought on a brief flicker of fear before annoyance pushed that away, and then the man had turned his back.
With an internal shrug, Dean turned his attention to the bag that was held in his hand. It was small, and well worn. Clearly something that was made to be used, and used often. Wondering what the hell was in it, he fiddled with the small straps holding it closed.
The motion attracted the attention of the small man once more. He stiffened at the sight of the bag held between thick fingers.
Dean dangled it closer to the vase. “Want to just tell me what you’re doing here? That way I don’t need to take this apart?”
A small glare was leveled at him and the man turned away again. But this time, Dean noted that he was still turned enough towards Dean to be able to track the hunter’s movements from the corner of his eye.
Dean scoffed. “Suit yourself.” He stood, going over to his duffel to dig out a needle. It was shoved in with his med-kit items, used for either stitching his clothes up or stitching himself up depending on the day.
He sat back down and scooped the bag back up. This time, he carefully played with the clasp, trying to undo it without just shredding the bag apart. He had no idea who this man was, after all, or if he was any type of threat. If he had no reason to destroy the small workmanship, he had no intention of breaking it.
It was only a few minutes before he got in. Flipping it open, he frowned as a trail of thread slipped out, attached to a… is this a paperclip? he thought wonderingly. He lifted it out, staring at the strangely twisted paperclip. It was almost…
“Did you turn this into a hook?” Dean asked in surprise.
The man turned back to him, eyes briefly wide at the question. But it didn’t seem harmful… “Yes…” he begrudgingly let out.
Dean put it down on the tabletop, with the string still attached. “Holy crap,” he said quietly. That was inventive, but he couldn’t imagine using it to climb with. What if it slipped off? A paperclip couldn’t be the most stable climbing tool… he hid a shudder at the thought of dangling in midair at the mercy of a cobbled-together tool like that.
“Y’know,” he said conversationally. “Something like a fishhook might be a bit better for climbing with. Something that you don’t have to worry about bending when you’re using it.”
That got the man to turn all the way around, suspicion in his small eyes. “Why’s it matter to you? ” he bit out at Dean.
Dean stared back at him. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he pointed out as he shifted the bag and its contents back over to the vase. “I need to know what you are and if you’re dangerous. Then I can either let you go, or…”
The man glared at him. “Or you’ll kill me. I know how hunters work.” He turned away once more and crossed his arms. “I know how far you’ll go.”
Try as he might, that was the last Dean was able to get out of him for the night. Walt was trapped in memories of the hunter that had tried to kill him in the past, combined with those humans taking away his daughter. There was no way he’d get out of this one, not twice. All of his luck was used up on the first rescue.
He was only glad that Sam hadn’t been the one captured.
(
||
|| Part 3 )
Brothers Apart 