Had a story in my head after watching the latest episode, so if anyone’s interested, check it out:

A Ghost from the Past (11×17)

A familiar face comes to visit Sam when he’s lying on Death’s door, only he’s looking a little… shorter than normal.

Archive of Our Own || Fanfiction || Deviantart

–A bonus of this story is it is the first official appearance of Brothers Lost Dean as he makes a surprise guest appearance, so if you want to see what he’s like, check it out! Spoilers for episode 11×17! –

image

Do not mess with the tiny Dean! Do not!

Artwork commissioned from @homeiswheretheheartsare

Sam’s Soda

BA Canon: Yes

Timeline: After The Golden Touch


Sam groaned, doubling over. His bottlecap shifted far enough on the pillow to tip, spilling the Coke all over the plush white surface. It spread out a dark stain.

Dean poked his head out of the bathroom, concern on his face at the quiet moaning. “Sam, is everything…”

He spotted the doubled-over form on the pillow. “Sam!” Dean was over at the bed in an instant.

Sam felt himself fall onto his back, thrown off balance from the sight of Dean growing so large, so fast. He blinked up at his older brother looming overhead for a few seconds before curling up again in pain.

It was so all-encompassing he didn’t even pay any mind to the two hands that cupped carefully around him, slowly edging under his body. Sam was lifted up into the air, finding himself level with concerned green eyes.

A finger brushed against his arms, trying to coax him out of his crumpled position. “Sam, did you drink the soda?”

“Uhhh… maybe. W…why?”

Dean’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and he moved his hand so Sam could lay flat. “I think maybe next time we should wait for it to go flat.”

Sam buried his face in the thick, soft skin underneath. He felt a burp come up, lessening the pressure in his middle.

“I think maybe you’re right.”

The Cat

BA Canon: No

Timeline: After The Schism of Fire and Water

Original Post: Sam Verses Cat ( you wanted Dean, here he comes! This will be a little bonus prompt )


( Part 2 of 2 )

Dean shoved the plates and silverware set up on the table out of his way, gently laying Sam down on a dishcloth. “Hang on, Sammy,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of that for you.”

Sam groaned, trying to sit up. “Dean…” he gritted out. “Cat…”

“I took care of it. Don’t worry, it can’t reach you, pint-size.” Carefully, Dean pushed on Sam’s chest, forcing him to lie still. “Just give me a minute. I need to grab supplies.”

Sam sagged back down, letting Dean take over. His eyes fluttered closed, and for a second Dean panicked until he saw the small chest move up and down. Only then did he get up. Supplies… he needed supplies. He hadn’t brought supplies in with him. Something to disinfect the slashes, something to wrap them up with. It would be impossible to give Sam stitches.

Shoving away the panic welling in him, Dean opened up the door again. The cat was waiting outside and tried to shove its way past him. Angrily, Dean grabbed it by the scruff of its neck. He locked the cat up in the kitchen. The people who owned the house would be back soon enough, they could let it out.

The bathroom next to the kitchen had a first aid kit. He grabbed it and ran back to the dining room. Sam was still slumped down, only this time he was unconscious. Dean cursed under his breath.

With great care, he removed the jacket Sam had on, wincing at the slashes that raked the back. Another jacket down for Sam…

Dean gently dropped it to the side, then had to take off the tiny t-shirt his brother had on. He maneuvered the small, fragile arms so they didn’t get caught as he stripped it off. Sam’s body was limp as Dean held him up, shifting his brother so he was lying facedown on the hand.

Four bright red lines stretched across the hunter’s lean back. Blood caked every part of him, more welling up as Dean watched. Hurriedly, he pressed a wet rag against the cuts, wiping off the blood and covering them up while he got an alcohol pad ready. “This is going to hurt,” he warned his brother’s unconscious form before pressing it against the cuts.

Knocked out or not, Sam writhed in pain at the contact. Dean bit his lip, forcing himself to not move. He stroked it down the cuts, cleaning off more blood and sterilizing the wounds. Dabbing a wet paper towel against Sam’s back cleaned off the rest of the blood before he decided to try wrapping it.

With one hand occupied, Dean had to use his teeth to rip the gauze and start unraveling it. Once he had enough, he put a sterile cloth against Sam’s back and began to steadily wrap the gauze around the other hunter, trying to avoid making it too tight. He sighed when he was finished, carefully checking his work to make sure he’d covered the full injury.

Sam started to shiver, from cold and blood loss. Dean cupped him against his chest. “It’s okay, Sammy. You’re gonna be okay, I promise.”


( Part 1 )


Ask’s Open! || Prompt’s Open! || Submissions Open!

The Cat

BA Canon: No

Timeline: After The Schism of Fire and Water

Original Post: Sam Verses Cat ( you wanted Dean, here he comes! This will be a little bonus prompt )


( Part 1 of 2 )

Dean paced through the house, searching for any sign of a spirit. The EMF reader was silent in his hand as he went, taunting him with its silence.

Dean grumbled, hitting it on the side in annoyance. Was it acting up? Surely there was a spirit at work…

His thoughts trailed off when at the edge of hearing he heard a cat yowl. Dread started to creep up on him.

Sam was in that direction.

Dean sprinted down the hall, almost skidding past the door that the noises were coming from. To his great relief, the cat wasn’t sitting there with a bloody set of clothes in its claws, but it was trying to swipe at something hidden behind the cabinet.

Dean stalked over, grabbing the cat by the nape of its neck and hauling it off the ground. He tossed it out of the room, sealing the door shut. Upset meows made it through the wooden door.

Putting that out of his mind, Dean walked carefully over to the cabinet to see what the cat had trapped. Getting down on his knees, he dug out his flashlight and shone it into the crack.

A small, huddled form flinched away from him and the light, a tiny silver knife at the ready. “Sammy,” Dean breathed. “Thank god you’re okay.”

There was no answer to his voice, no sign that Sam even heard him. Dean’s brow furrowed in concern. “Sam,” he tried again. “Can you walk? I can’t reach you back there.”

With no response still, Dean was getting worried. “Alright,” he muttered to himself. “I’m gonna assume that means you can’t come out here on your own. Hang on, kid.”

Getting up, Dean grabbed the dishware on top of the cabinet, dropping it all on the table. He gripped the side of the cabinet, shifting it away from the wall to put Sam in reach.

The moment Sam was in sight, Dean stooped to pick him up. Before the older hunter could react, a cold metal blade slashed at his hand, Sam lashing out in a panic.

“Crap, Sam. It’s me!” Dean hissed. He stuck his thumb in his mouth for a second for the bleeding, snatching at Sam with his other hand. The fingers curled around the small hunter, trapping the knife-wielding arm between Dean’s index finger and middle finger.

Dean gently pried the knife from Sam’s grip. “Sammy, it’s me. It’s just Dean. You’re safe, I promise. That cat’s nowhere near us right now. I took care of it.”

After a few minutes of cajoling, Sam finally peered up at Dean. His small eyes were wide, panicked. The look of a hunted animal. “D-Dean?” he stuttered out.

“That’s right. Just me.” Dean took a seat at the dining room table, unfurling his fingers.

The reason for Sam’s panic was revealed.

Blood coated Dean’s hand where it had wrapped around Sam’s back.

Fuck.”

Dean Rescues Sam

BA Canon: No || AU

Timeline: 1993 (Dean is 14; Sam is 10)


(Part 2 of 4)

The first thing Sam became aware of was the rushing of the ocean.

The world shifted with him, gently rising and falling like the tides. Sam’s eyes fluttered for a moment, then settled closed again. The warmth that surrounded him on all sides was soothing and calming. A pulse beat through him, inviting him back to sleep.

Slowly awareness began to return. Flashes and visions hit his mind. The door, breaking down. Dean shouting. A flash of light… and then nothing. Cold eyes framed by blonde hair stared ruthlessly down at him as the blast hit.

That did it.

Sam startled awake with a shout, throwing his arms up defensively. The ground under him stopped moving suddenly, the gentle rise and fall freezing completely.

Sam gasped in a breath, trying to remember what had happened. Where he was.

“Sammy?” came a groggy voice. It rumbled under him this time, making up his entire world.

In the darkness of the room, shapes started to coalesce. Lurking, powerful monuments. Looming figures. His pulse went up as he realized he had no idea where he was.

“D-Dean?” he called out cautiously. At least the voice was familiar if the sensation of the booming volume it talked in wasn’t.

The ground under him started to shift. “Lemme get a light,” Dean mumbled.

Sam froze as what it all meant started to sink in.

The light snapping on overhead gave his horror form. He wasn’t sleeping on the ground. The ocean waves weren’t bobbing him up and down.

He was on Dean.

Sam was crouched on Dean’s chest, the older boy only partially awake as he rubbed at his eyes. And Dean didn’t seem surprised at the fact that his younger brother, less than three inches tall, was on his chest.

Sam watched the massive arms soar overhead as Dean yawned. With his eyes closed for that one fatal second, Dean didn’t see the panic rise in Sam’s eyes. He missed the small body tense.

Sam bolted.

Within seconds, Sam was sliding down the sheet Dean was lying under. His mind was speeding through priorities. Find Dean, find Dad, get away from any giants. Nothing in him would allow the thought that the giant he’d left behind was, in fact, Dean, and that John would be even more gargantuan.

Dean shouted in surprise. “Sammy, wait!”

Sam tried to dodge a hand that grabbed at him, but it was so much faster that the fingers closed relentlessly around him before he could escape. He struggled, trying to dig out the knife Dean had given him a few months ago. If he’d ever needed protection, now was the time.

Dean was too fast for him again. Those fingers sealed Sam’s arms to his sides, keeping him helpless.

Sam trembled as he was lifted into the air, staring up at the huge eyes of his captor. Dean’s expression softened at the fear in his brother’s eyes. The fingers uncurled, setting Sam free on his palm. “Sam, it’s me, I promise. It’s Dean. You got hit by that witch, but I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Minutes stretched out, an eternity of time. Sam’s breathing started to slow enough for him to catch sight of the rest of the room around them. A room that was made for Dean’s size. Not Sam’s.

He huddled down into the hand, terrified of everything around him. In the blink of an eye his entire world was torn away, replaced with massive monuments, towering structures he would never reach. Even a light switch was beyond his grasp.

Everything but Dean.

The hands shifted with him, cupping him against a tall chest. The rushing sound of the ocean filled Sam’s ears once more. The sound of his brother’s immense breaths, moving through lungs that now dwarfed all of Sam. He shuddered again as he let himself cower into the safety Dean provided simply by being there.

“Dean, what happened? What’s gonna happen to me?”


( Part 1 )

No, it wouldn’t be. He’s the perfect size for prey, after all, and cats are fast bastards. It may come up in the future, it may not. I do have little drabbles around the idea floating around, of course.


A rumbling growl came from behind Sam, giving him seconds to react before a large paw swiped through where he’d been standing. With a cry, Sam dove to the side. His knife was out in an instant, falling naturally into the defensive grip Dean had shown him. Surprised hazel eyes took in the sight of the massive tabby cat that was stalking him.

Sam shivered at the hungry stare in its eyes as he backed away. The cat recovered from its miss, crouching down and preparing to pounce.

“Crap,” Sam muttered. The one time Dean was out of sight.

This time, the paw slammed right into him. He rolled across the floor, his jacket with four slashes down the side. Biting pain hit, and he knew he was bleeding. Before the cat could finish him off, he finished his roll and stumbled behind the cabinet along the wall. He barely made it far enough back that the cat couldn’t reach him. The paw scrapped threateningly along the ground as it tried to finish off its kill.

Dean Rescues Sam

BA Canon: No || AU

Timeline: 1993 (Dean is 14; Sam is 10)


(Part 1 of 4)

Dean growled, trying to get free of the wall. “You bitch,” he spat angrily. “What did you do to him?!”

The witch smirked, her long, lustrous blonde hair wafting in the air as the spell she’d hit Sam with started to die down. “You’ll soon find out,” she said with the deadly hiss of a promise. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Her chanting started again. Struggling, Dean’s eyes went wide as her hand, clawed around the air, lifted up in preparation to hit him.

Before she could get the blast off, someone slammed against the door. It shuddered. John Winchester’s voice could be heard outside the door. “I’m coming boys!”

“Damn,” the witch snarled. “Better make this quick.” She held up the hand again, preparing the spell.

The door shattered. John barreled in, tackling the witch without taking a breath. He slammed into her, knocking her away from Dean with a shriek.

Dean hit the ground, falling straight down from where he’d been pinned up over three feet in the air. He moaned, certain he’d broken something.

The groan tapered off when his eyes landed on something right next to the battling hunter and the witch. Something small, in familiar colors. Dean almost gasped.

Sammy!

He crawled over to the prostrate from. His brother was less than four inches tall, curled up in a tiny ball and shuddering in pain. Sam’s shudders increased as Dean lifted him off of the ground. Or maybe it was his hands that were shaking.

Dean was yanked off his feet without warning, John shoving him out of the door. His fingers curled protectively around his brother. “D-dad…” he stuttered. He had no idea what to do.

“Get in the car, Dean!”

A gunshot sounded out. A shrieking laugh was heard. The witch vanished before the bullet hit her. John held the gun in front of him as he backed away.

Dean got into the front seat of the Impala, holding his tiny brother against his chest. Sam had gone motionless, slumped across his fingers. “It’s okay, Sammy. I gotcha,” he whispered even as John dove into the driver’s seat and started it up. The car screeched out of the parking lot.

“Everything will be okay, Sam. I promise.”

I plan to, but the right story hasn’t come along. In the meantime, I’ve drabbled out various versions of this, so you can take a peek at one of the little ideas I had in mind for it!


Seeing Sam in danger, Dean lunged for his brother, desperate to stop Sam from getting hurt or killed by the spirit when it attacked. His comparatively huge hand reached for the tiny hunter, intent on scooping him safely out of the way.

Unfortunately for them both, Sam panicked when he saw the hand grabbing at him and didn’t realize at first that it was just Dean. He flinched back, arms flailing in the air as he stumbled away. Dean didn’t have time to stop his lunge, the forward motion carrying him through.  His hand brushed against the tiny body, sending Sam flying into the wall.

Sam hit the wall with a moan and collapsed into an unmoving pile.

Sam!

Panicking, Dean blocked another blow from the spirit. His vision narrowed to tunnel-vision, unable to see anything but Sam, crumpled on the ground. Because of him. Because of Dean.