July 8th excerpt:

Down in the pocket, Sam and Dean Winchester had chosen to keep a close eye as the money from their case was gambled away in a game at the local bar. 

“Yes!” Dean hissed, pumping a fist as he watched the money pile up in front. 

“Shh,” Sam hissed right back, shoving at Dean to keep him quiet. “Quiet! They’ll hear us!”

“You be quiet!”

“No, you!”

October 19th excerpt:

Jacob was fascinated, by Sam’s words and by the fact that he was talking to someone who could use a laptop as a bench. That never got old, the size disparity between him and the extra-small folk he’d met. A lot of people came up to his chest and complained about his size. They had no idea what he looked like to someone like Sam.

Yet there he was, not hiding away. Jacob was grateful for trust, however tenuous.

August 12th excerpt:

It was little wonder Dean hadn’t asked about the idea ahead of time. Jacob never would have agreed to this. Even if Dean went along with it anyway.

Now, he was going to come out of that pocket no matter what. He’d never been able to avoid being picked up when Dean was determined, and he knew this would be no different. Even so, Jacob shrank away from Dean’s hand in one jerky motion, startled. One boot lifted up and he kicked at Dean’s knuckle pointedly, wishing he could divert what was happening.

“Hey!” Dean hissed. “Chill already, you’re fine! 

We have a winner!

#auv stands for An Unexpected Visitor! Certainly Dean never imagined who he would find sneaking about in his room, searching for food…

He was under the bed when he heard it.

A key, probably more than half Oscar’s height, sliding into the lock on the door. Ice surged through his veins and he froze. There was nothing else he could do.

Oscar had a view of the nightstand between the two beds, beyond a forest of dustbunnies, as the door creaked open. With agonizing slowness, a piece of wood impossibly tall and heavy for someone his size swung open to admit the human checked into the room. Oscar’s legs tensed. He’d gotten himself stuck in rooms with humans in them before, but it never got easier. He was too small.

Heavy footfalls that Oscar could never miss vibrated through the floor. Same usual routine; a few steps, then the percussive click of the door shutting. Oscar held his breath and stared straight ahead.

Something crashed onto the other bed, and before Oscar could glance in that direction, the entire world around him quaked. The bed frame and the mattress it supported both released noises of protest as the human crashed onto them. Thinking quickly before he could yelp in terror, the room’s hidden occupant lifted his hands and clamped them over his mouth. Oscar stared upwards at the underside of the mattress with wide brown eyes.

For a kid barely more than two inches tall, just a step could cause a small earthquake.

Oscar was used to the feeling of humans walking around. They were always stomping about as they got ready for something or other, and Oscar tried his best to keep himself well out of their way. He was still learning the routines, though, and hadn’t expected anyone in this room for some time.

It was hard to learn these things by himself, but he didn’t have any other options. Oscar’s mom was gone and she had been for a while. He had been seven when he last saw her, and he was eight now, he was sure. It was so hard to navigate a world so big by himself.

She would have known what to do in this situation. He was under the bed with a human in the room, and he didn’t have any exits into the walls. It was safer in there by far, where he could take quiet steps and keep to himself and the humans never bothered with it. They were giant, unpredictable people in most things, but at least they could be counted on to ignore the space that Oscar called home.

He glanced across the floor, past piles of dustbunnies and the wide expanse of worn out carpet. Past the second bed and the dresser was his vent, low in the wall.

It felt so far away. Oscar lowered his trembling hands from his face and took a slow, quiet breath. At least he knew how to be quiet.

He was frightened of the human above. Oscar had found a small, stale piece of a cracker. It was probably from the previous motel guest, but if this one found out he took it, he could be mad. Then he might want to hurt Oscar, and the tiny child would be helpless.

He crept towards the edge of the bed. His wrapped feet pushed softly through the dust piles until he was just at the edge of the bed. He stared straight up.

He almost ducked back immediately at the sight of a hand draped over the side. It wasn’t moving, so he took a slow breath instead. He could do this. All he had to do was move quickly and stay out of sight. So long as the human stayed up on that bed and slept, he’d be fine.

Biting his lip to steel himself, he clutched his bag closer. Then, he bolted across the space between the beds. All he had to do was dive under the other one, and he’d have a safe place to get closer to his vent.

Halfway out, he tripped on the thick carpet fibers. Stumbling, he toppled forward and landed on his front with a quiet Oof! that sent ice up his spine.

Don’t You Cry (A Brothers Together Short)


Y’know, that’s not what an apology sounds like.”

There’s always a risk with Oscar prompts that I’ll end up thinking about Brothers Together Oscar. The little sweetie needs to be checked up on from time to time.

Oscar wished humans didn’t come to his motel to have their fights, but he was used to it by now. The loud, sharp sound of voices so much more powerful than his wavered in the stale air within the walls and the air ducts. Raw emotion that could overwhelm him like a tide ensured that he knew exactly where they were just from the sheer volume. Most of the time, it ended with a door slamming.

He sighed as he wandered his route through the motel. In the vents and the walls, under the floorboards and above the ceiling, Oscar had a routine that he kept to every day. Knowing the schedule and when to nab a stray trinket or dropped piece of food was his entire livelihood.

Today was a good day as far as that was concerned. His bag was comfortably heavy with the spoils of his search for food, and there was even a raisin he was looking forward to eating later. He’d also found a half-emptied packet of tissues underneath a dresser. He carried that under one arm, unsure of what he’d even use it for but glad for the find.

It just figured that a lover’s quarrel would erupt while he was on his way home.

Their voices were raised when he was still in the ceiling of the next room, picking his way over pipes and ceiling tiles or balancing on support boards. They crescendoed as he wriggled into an opening in an air duct, one of his shortcuts on the way home. The usual Why would you do this? and That’s not what I mean! reverberated through his cloth-wrapped feet.

He paused while sidling past the vent opening into their room. The ceiling vent gave him a view of the table below, and the foot of one of the beds. From the looks of things, a woman sat there while a man paced back and forth.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” the man thundered, and Oscar flinched. For a moment, he froze as fear of that voice crept over him. He couldn’t help it.

“Don’t talk to me like that! Don’t! You never just listen to me, you never do!” the woman wailed back. Her voice was closer to breaking. The shrillness hurt Oscar’s ears.

“Listen, honey, I’m sorry, I really am, but you’re the one who keeps screwing up!” the man snapped back.

Oscar frowned. Y’know, that’s not what an apology sounds like … While the man continued berating the woman, he could swear she started to sob quietly. The raised voice had finally beaten down her defenses.

Oscar couldn’t blame her.

He realized that he’d lingered too long when the man finally stormed to the door of the motel. Light and air flooded in from outside for a moment, and then the door slammed so hard that Oscar almost lost his footing.

He was left stunned while the woman below wept.

Oscar shifted his feet. He should be going. He never liked being privy to what the humans thought were private conversations. Even if they yelled them for anyone to hear, it wasn’t his argument to weigh in on. It wasn’t even his world.

He crossed the vent at last, but then paused when he heard a forlorn, shaky sigh from below. From the new angle, he could see the woman sitting at the edge of the bed, face buried in her hands. She sniffled, and Oscar sighed. The poor girl had been left on her own. Maybe not for good, like Oscar had, but he knew that isolating feeling. Familiar surroundings became warped and inescapable.

He was going through the motions before he could stop to consider it. The packet of tissues, thanks to being half full, fit through the slats of the vent. The plastic rustled so loudly in his ears, and he heard a gasp below as it emerged on the other side.

Once it was pushed enough through to fall to the table below, Oscar turned and bolted. He couldn’t wait around to see how the woman reacted to the sudden appearance of something to dry her eyes. It was too risky. If she found him, he could be trapped.

But she needed something to dry her eyes more than Oscar did. He had his food from the day, and that was the important part.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t mind the help.

A Village in Miniature

So, work has been a real pill for @nightmares06 and @neonthewrite both, with night especially taking on a lot of shenanigans that really suck the energy out of the entire day. It’s nuts, folks. We have the upcoming Zelda game coming out to look forward to, but in the meantime I (neon) decided to write a little fluff, and we’re gonna share it with you. Enjoy!

Dean walked briskly, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. So long as he didn’t dawdle on his way, people probably wouldn’t notice him. It was a tried-and-true method for sneaking around in plain sight. Dean was no stranger to that. He was no stranger to sneaking into places without paying the admission, either.

He’d never done anything like this before, though. The weight of the responsibility was a lot heavier than the small weight in his front pocket. He couldn’t mess this up.

He made his way to a secluded area that didn’t have many people around. A food vendor was the nearest sign of anyone else, and that guy was about ready to fall asleep under his shade umbrella. Amusement parks didn’t get as much business in the middle of the week during a school year. Kids who played hooky didn’t have anything new to see at the park, so they wandered elsewhere.

Not Dean. He didn’t care for the roller coasters stretching over the trees, but he just knew there would be something like this here if he managed to sneak in.

He found himself on a tidy stone path that wound its way through a miniature village, with tiny houses and miniature farmers tending their gardens. A little trickle of a stream wound around town halls and shops with hand painted signs, and under little bridges no bigger than his hand. Some of the paint was worn off the buildings in the little village, but somehow Dean doubted that would be a problem.

Once he was sure he was alone in the area, Dean found a place at the edge of the mini-village to sit himself down. Then, he finally nudged at his front pocket. “How’s it goin’, fellas?”

A quiet voice grumbled something, and then a teeny elbow jabbed into his chest. Dean watched a tiny shape in his pocket shift, and decided to help out by propping up the flap over it. He let himself grin at the sight.

Sam, not even three inches tall, was the first to climb up the side and grip the edge. His fluffy hair was sticking out at odd angles thanks to the static in the pocket, but it wasn’t nearly as messy as Oscar’s when he followed suit. The even smaller kid could look almost like a dandelion when he woke up in the morning sometimes.

Sam looked around them with wide eyes, while Oscar only barely peeked over the edge of the pocket. The little guy wasn’t quite tall enough to see out, and had to really hang on just to stay up there, but he looked around nervously anyway. Even when he was scared, he’d always tried to stick close to Sam.

“Dean, what’s all that?” Sam asked, looking up.

Dean almost shrugged, but remembered in time that it would jostle the tiny pair in his pocket. He was getting used to that. Somehow. “I figured I’d skip school today, just this once,” he began, heading off Sam’s scolding before it got started, “since it was so nice out. I knew they’d have something like this.”

“Wh-what is it?” Oscar asked, his voice shy and quiet. The kid had come a long way since his fearful glances and squeaks when interacting with Dean. Sometimes the teen wondered if the little guy was just scared as a baseline.

Dean offered him a smile anyway. “Oz, I think you might like checking this place out, if you wanna come out of the pocket,” he said. He pointed at the nearest miniature house. “It might be a little bit lame, but who knows until you look around?”

Sam was practically ready to climb out of the pocket on his own. “Yeah, Oscar, let’s check it out!”

Oscar’s eyes were wide and he glanced around them once more. No other people. It was just one teenager sitting on the ground with two tiny children keeping lookout from his pocket. “O-okay. Maybe just for a little bit.”

That was all the prompting they needed. Dean glanced around once more to make extra sure that no one was watching, and then lowered his hand into the pocket. Sam and Oscar let go of the edge so they could climb onto his curled fingers instead, clinging like the little climbing experts they were.

Dean lifted them out carefully. The contrast between the two kids was always stark when he took them out of hiding. Sam looked around with an innocent curiosity, putting his trust in his big brother to look after them even if he was still nervous about his new size. Oscar always tried to make sure he could hide behind Dean’s thumb or fingers. He wasn’t nervous about the size of everything. He was just nervous.

Dean lowered his hand towards the miniature house. He couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of the two kids scrambling onto the fake grass and standing near the front door. The miniature village was small enough that they almost looked like grown adults next to that house.

Sam bounded up the porch steps and pushed on the door. It swung into the little house, and Dean leaned down to peer into it with them.

“Oscar, let’s go in!” Sam said, turning back.

Oscar was still at the bottom of the steps, staring at the first one. “I-I never saw stairs that I could walk on!” he admitted.

Dean snickered and reached out to nudge Oscar’s shoulder. The little guy looked back at him, startled, but didn’t flinch away from the touch. Dean would count that as a win. “Just give it a try. There might be even more stairs inside.”

Oscar looked back at Sam, who waited eagerly for his friend to join him. Then, he watched his cloth-wrapped feet as they trekked up the few steps onto the porch. “Okay, let’s go see,” he said, letting Sam lead the way into the miniature house.

Dean leaned down further to watch them. He couldn’t hide a grin as Oscar paused in the doorway, swinging the door back and forth on its tiny hinges. The kid had never had anything like that. From what they’d gotten out of him, his door back home was little more than a block of wood he had to strain to push into place.

Oscar glanced out of the house at Dean and grinned. “W-we can go find more stairs and come see you out a window,” he suggested, before closing the door all the way.

Dean smirked, amused and relieved to see that the kids could still play around and be kids, despite everything. He’d make sure to take care of them, even if he looked lame just sitting around in a village of tiny dollhouses. “I’ll be waitin’.”

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!”

February 20th excerpt:

An unfamiliar voice rumbled through the air and froze Sam’s blood solid.

“I think I saw someone over by the desk.”

Sam scrunched his eyes closed, wishing he had anywhere else to go. He was too far away from the wall entrance, he couldn’t scale up any of the gargantuan furniture that soared above his head.