July 28th excerpt:

“A suit, though?” Jacob asked, exasperation leaking into his tone. He’d look like some stupid doll if he wore that. “It’ll just get messed up in a pocket anyway… ” he trailed off and shoved his hands into his pocket again. Dean seemed so damn pleased with his idea. “It’s not like I mind the helping, and we both know I’d rather run the other direction if monsters or kids show up.”

Dean brightened up at that. “Exactly! So long as we’re on the same page when it comes to hunting, we won’t have a problem out there. You get to come along and help with research and listen in on interviews, and I gank the creeps that cause it.”

That decided, the little suit was placed on the table next to the collection of clothing Dean had brought with him. “There’s a case a few towns over we can head to once we eat,” Dean said.

“I… huh,” Jacob muttered, his brow furrowing. He hadn’t thought he was just agreeing to the suit, but he supposed he could see why it sounded that way. Shit. Can’t take it back now, he thought ruefully. 

Dean was too damn proud of himself for the idea.

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.”

Dean glanced around at his surroundings, making sure no one was close enough to catch sight of Sam nestled in the crook of his neck. There was no one visible for miles, flatland stretching away from them. The junkyard behind Bobby’s house was visible, the metal of the cars glinting in the light. He just needed to stop in, ask Bobby for some–

Dean’s foot caught on the step, making him stumble forward with a curse. He slammed against the banister, catching the rail with one hand. Sam, not expecting the sudden forward motion, almost went flying, catching the edge of Dean’s shirt. He slammed into the hunter’s chest, dangling free while Dean took a deep breath, startled from the close call.

Wincing, he pried his hand off the banister at the same time as his other hand cupped under Sam’s dangling body. Blood welled up from where a splinter had stabbed into Dean’s skin.

He signed, ignoring it. “You okay, Sammy?”

Sam dropped onto his hand, knees collapsing under him. “Do us all a favor, and watch where you’re going, next time?”

Oh, I’d love to do Charlie, but I don’t know if the fic would make it all the way to season seven and eight. She’s such a bright ball of sunshine. Sam would probably get a kick out of all the action figures she has. At least if Sam breaks into her home like the Winchesters did that first time he wouldn’t so much scare the crap out of her. She’ll think she found a borrower living in her house!

Oh, man. Can you see Sam dealing with a hyperactive squirrel version of his brother? Especially since he isn’t his moose self, like on the show. If he can get Dean to sit still for a few minutes, he could always hitch a ride on the squirrel. They could have an adventure together.

…But if they want to get Dean back to normal, they should call Bobby. Especially since neither of them can now drive the Impala. Yep, definitely call Bobby. And deal with Dean’s constant bitching about anyone else finding out that he’s now a squirrel

That’s the great thing about written stories. Everyone can have their own image of a character in their head, and it’s never right or wrong. My idea of what happens might be different than what yours is, and that’s what keeps things fresh! I’ve seen two different pictures of Nixie so far, and I’m always considering looking to see if anyone else wants to draw her out x3 

Cursed Dean 7 (Final)

The man who’d named himself Sam gaped at the tiny amulet in amazement. It was so small next to him, Dean found himself in shock that someone so massive would even be able to tell what it was. He tucked it back into his shirt, hating how small it always looked against the gigantic surroundings.

And now it was smaller than ever. He was surrounded by massive books that Sam had been reading, a huge bottle of water looming overhead and an enormous laptop blocking the table from behind. There was nothing in the entire room that was made for his size. No, it was all made for Sam’s size. Who was still human.

Who was still alive.

Deep in the darkest recesses of his mind, Dean had feared for years that Sammy would get hurt, would get himself killed because their dad let his guard down or took Sam on a hunt he wasn’t prepared for. Dean had spent years trying to keep his brother safe, but none of that mattered when you were effectively dead to them.

He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to sort out the conflicting emotions. Anger. Rage. Unbridled joy at discovering his little brother was alive and well. A fucking Godzilla, but alive, and suddenly that’s all that mattered as the reality sunk in.

Sam must have been thinking along the same lines as Dean. He stared back at his ‘big’ bro like a man that had just found an oasis in the desert, hazel eyes more potent than ever now that they were the size of Dean’s head.

Dean took a step forward. “Sammy…” he started gruffly, throat closing at the emotions. He hadn’t uttered that name in over thirteen years.

Not once.

And now that baby brother was here, a full grown… overgrown… man. Lean, in shape, damn fast reflexes and good instincts… Someone that Dean could be proud of.

Sam’s face relaxed into a smile at the familiar nickname. “I’m here, Dean. I was gone for a long time, but I’m here now.”

He reached forward carefully, slipping his hand under the smaller Winchester’s body. This time, Dean didn’t fight it as a tear rolled down his cheek. This time, he was lifted from the table carefully, his back supported by long fingers that stretched over his head. Even the vertigo was gone as he stared into Sam’s watering eyes, as overwhelmed by emotion as Dean was.

The huge, powerful hands cupped him against Sam’s chest, where he could hear his brother’s steady heart thud along, where he could feel its every beat deep in his bones.

“You don’t have to be alone anymore.”


And so we have the heartwarming conclusion of Dean’s first encounter with Sam. Trust me, there may be more coming in the future for our reverse BA team, so keep an eye out for any other random drabbles. Also! Feel free to include borrower Dean in any prompts or asks. I have a vague idea of what I’d want to have happen with him, but everything is welcome. Stay tuned, more prompts on the way!

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Part 5

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Cursed Dean 6

The seconds dragged out as Sam stared down at Dean, unable to say a word. Having trouble even thinking.

The words that the strange little man he’d found in his room resounded in his head, taking root in his mind.

He left and he never came back and I got stuck here!

Not that you’d have any idea how it feels to be left behind by your family!

And of course, he was remembering what motel he was staying at. Trails West; the same motel they’d been staying at when his big brother Dean had died. He saw his brother in his mind’s eye, leaping into the witch’s attack and shoving Sam out of the way.

He saw the attack hit yet again, the air warping around Dean as he vanished. Protecting his baby brother to the last second.

“Holy shit,” Sam whispered in realization. His fingers almost leapt away from that tiny, frail body he’d just grabbed moments ago. His brother. He’d grabbed his brother. “Holy shit… I mean, fuck.”

Sam leaned in close, wanting to see all the features of the small person he was holding captive. “Dean… is it really you?”

Dean shuffled back a few steps, a look of fear briefly overriding his aggravation. Guilt hit Sam at that, realizing after the way he’d grabbed the man and trapped him, he deserved that fear.

Dean didn’t say a thing, but he reached inside the small black t-shirt he was wearing. Hesitantly, he pulled out a small necklace. Sam couldn’t see what it was since it was barely the size of a grain of sand, but his eyes widened in realization as the light glimmered off of a brass amulet.

And then he knew.

It was the amulet he’d given his brother.


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Cursed Dean 5

Dean gaped up at the other person at the table with him, unable to reconcile everything that had just happened. Brown hair, familiar hazel eyes, goddamn familiar dimples that appeared while he was stating his name… and Sam.


“Not possible,” he growled up. Ignoring the fact that he was trapped at the table, Dean stalked away from the other man. “Not friggin’ possible, your name cannot be Sam!”

Sam, too surprised by the reaction he’d gotten, didn’t bother grabbing the smaller person back at first. “What are you talking about? It’s just a name, after all.”

Dean whipped around and found himself shouting. “You cannot be Sam because Sam cannot be here and I’m never gonna see him again!” All of the pent up frustration from being trapped for years in a place where he had no escape came pouring out, stabbing straight at the only target he had. “He left and he never came back and I got stuck here!” He jabbed his finger angrily in the direction of the giant. “Not that you’d have any idea how it feels to be left behind by your family!

Dean paced angrily back and forth. “And now I’m stuck here, trapped, and the entire goddamn universe just wants to rub my nose in my shitty-ass life by sending another Sam to grab me and remind me of everything I lost!”

The human was slack-jawed as the small ball of anger stalked back and forth on the table in front of him, trying to wrap his mind around the words that had been spewed forth. He reached a hand forward, pinching one of the small shoulders between a finger and a thumb. Dean froze, his entire body turning stiff at the unexpected contact. There was nothing he could do to stop this stranger.

The human leaned down, his soft hazel eyes drawing Dean’s straight to them. Not possible.

“What’s your name?” asked the human softly. Sam asked softly.

Dean’s fist clenched. “Dean,” he snapped.

Sam’s eyes widened.

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