Tag: jacob andris

The Lounge || A Dean in the Hand (3 of 3)

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Dean slowly approached the table with a pair of him and a pair of Jacob standing around, then realized there was someone on the table, stalking angrily off like he had the biggest chip on his shoulder.

Past pool balls almost as tall as he was.

“Is that a mini-me! ” Dean sputtered when he realized the guy looked familiar. In fact, identical, once you looked past the handwoven clothing.

“Dude, I was gonna say that,” the taller Jacob quipped, eyeing the littler of the guys on Dean’s shoulder. He offered himself a smile, and got one in return, although the smaller Jacob was still shell-shocked by the strange place.

“Woah, wait,” he said, breaking out of his daze to notice the guy his Dean was staring at. “Is that what you’d look like if you were like us?” he asked. He waved, trying to get the smaller Dean’s attention with a greeting.

All he got in return was the bird flipped at him. “Why is everyone so fascinated by me,” the smaller Dean griped. He grabbed to the edge of the pool table and hauled himself up so he was no longer standing on the green.

“Oh, I dunno,” the original Dean drawled, placing his pool stick back on the rack. “Could be because you’re the only one of us that got cursed?”

The little Dean huffed. “I tried my best!”

Dean offered him a smile and held out his hand invitingly. “Never said you didn’t, shortstop,” he said warmly. “You’re one of us.”

“Just the smallest one of us,” said the younger Dean lurking nearby and keeping an eye on his Jacob, who continued to be on probation.

The newest Dean walked closer, his two little brothers watching avidly. “So… this place is safe for them?”

“Made for us!” Sam called from his perch with the tallest Jacob there.

That prompted the smaller Jacob to glance around and observe more closely. After trying to greet the smaller Dean had backfired, he figured he’d stick with the Dean he knew for now, but his eyes widened when he saw a miniature pool table just like the huge one laid out before them, over on one of the other tables.

“Dude, he’s not kidding,” he told his Sam. He glanced over to the bar, with its miniature stools, and even places for them to climb up with ease. “Holy shit, this is cool!”

“That’s what I said!” the little Dean called over from his place. “See?” He turned his annoyed look up at the Dean who’d kidnapped him from his chosen pool table, and got only a look of innocence back.

The newest Dean in the room chuckled at that, walking over to the table to let his smaller brothers off. “I doubt I’ll fit at the table, but you two could probably manage a game or two without me,” he said wryly.

The television over the bar rippled, and the words The Water’s Fine took over the entire screen.

The pair of cursed brothers, Sam and Dean, along with Jacob, could feel a strange echo inside them at that, and Sam glanced at the door.

“I think that’s our ride,” Sam told Jacob.

Jacob nodded. “Yeah, I guess, time to go find some trouble,” he mused. Back in the real world, they hadn’t gone on a hunt as a team yet. Hell, the Impala was fresh from all the work Dean had had him do on it. Jacob liked the Lounge, but he was ready to see what was next for them.

“Dean, wanna make bets on who’s the big hero in this one?” he joked, holding out a hand for the smaller Dean.

Once he had both brothers back to their perches on his shoulders, the tallest Jacob there bade everyone an amiable farewell wave.

Meanwhile, a much smaller Jacob was making himself comfortable in the Lounge for his stay, climbing down to the table after his Dean helped him there. He glanced between the many tall Deans around, and realized that, despite them all looking identical, he knew which one was his without any trouble. There was just a feeling.

The third and final Jacob, one who was still careful not to crowd any of the little guys, inched closer, still fascinated at the sight of a tiny version of himself. “So … what’s your story?” he asked the three newcomers.

Sam grinned up at him, beyond thrilled to know that there were other Jacobs out there besides his own, ones that managed to escape the curse, whether he’d escaped it himself or not.

“I found Jacob a few years back when he got cursed, and dragged his ass out of the line of fire, and then this guy,” Sam jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Dean, who simply arched his eyebrows innocently and poked Sam in the side, “blunders on in and sticks my adopted brother under a vase…”

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August 10th excerpt:

With Jacob hidden, the teenager couldn’t see the way Dean hesitated at the front door of the house, gathering wool as he stood on the creaking porch. One hand drummed absent fingers against the duffel hanging from his side, wondering if he was doing the right thing.

Then, with determination, Dean pushed harshly on the doorbell.

The Lounge || A Dean in the Hand (2 of 3)

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The taller of the two Jacobs wandered over last, drawn by the bickering. Sam was back on his shoulder, a good perch for someone his size to still be able to see what was going on. Especially around all these other lookalike Deans. Jacob watched his step as he joined the others there, in case anyone else was also heading in the same direction to see what the commotion was.

Seeing Dean standing on the table, surrounded by pool balls that would outweigh him by several times, made him raise his eyebrows. Glancing between the two taller Deans and finally his younger counterpart, Jacob wondered at the fact that the little guy was … not as upset as he could be.

A number of lectures over his month or so knowing the cursed Dean came to mind. He was definitely taking this prank very well.

Jacob was ready to offer him a hand anyway, and get him out of the dangerous spot, but something else drew his attention. The door to the Lounge opened, and both Jacobs turned in unison to see who else was coming in.

It looked like another Dean, judging just by the posture and the spike of hair on top of his silhouette. What set him apart from the others, though, was the fact that there were two small figures on his shoulder, not just one.

The newest Dean blinked, working to focus on his strange new surroundings. One minute he was in the car, falling asleep under the stars with his two brothers– one related by blood, the second adopted into the family that day– the next, he was here. Fully clothed, his hair a sharp spike, he was certainly dressed for a night on the town.

On his shoulder, Sam wasn’t alone. Next to him was a second familiar figure clinging as Dean took a swaying step into the lounge.

“Dude, come on in!” The original Dean beckoned them over, tossing his pool stick from one hand to the other. “You’ve gotta see this place!”

With him distracted, the smaller Dean set out determinedly for the edge of the table.

The taller of the two Jacobs standing near the pool table kept an eye on Dean for a second, making sure he could get himself to safety unhindered. Then, assured the little guy wasn’t about to tumble into a side pocket, he offered the new Dean a welcoming smile and a wave as he approached. “Just be sure to look out for Oscar. He could be wandering anywhere.”

The younger Jacob forgot his manners in a stunned silence for a second. His eyes were on the new guy’s shoulder and the pair perched up there. “Dude,” he hissed, elbowing his counterpart in the side.

A third Jacob had arrived, and he was cursed-size.

“Holy shit,” both the tallest and smallest Jacob muttered, one amazed and one apprehensive.

The newest Dean blinked as he looked around the room. “Ain’t I seein’ double?” he asked the figures on his shoulder. “Is that–”

Sam shook his head, his hair flying into a mess at the violent action. “That’s Jacob!” he exclaimed, pointing at the shorter of the two, then he hesitated, his arm drooping as he looked at the second Jacob, taller and broader than the first.

As though a six-foot tall Jacob wasn’t big enough.

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August 9th excerpt:

Dean scooped Jacob up from the bed, letting the tiny teenager slide into the front pocket of his flannel before putting a jacket on. “Who knows. Maybe we’ll find Tinkerbell on the next case and you can show her the moves.”

Jacob scoffed in mid climb, still pulling himself upright in the pocket after being dropped in. He had to cling to the thick fibers of the flannel while the world moved around him, shifts and sways as Dean settled his jacket over his shoulders. That was a lot of his life now; trying to navigate on a person who was in constant motion. He was actually getting used to it.

“You think you’re funny,” he said when he finally pulled himself up to the edge of the pocket. Hooking one arm over the side to hold himself up, he sent Dean a flat look that didn’t last. Instead, it became a resigned smirk. “If we do meet Tinkerbell, I’ll put in a good word for you, though.”

The Lounge || A Dean in the Hand (1 of 3)

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Welcome to the AU lounge! A place of relaxation conceived and helped designed by all the readers and visitors to the world of Brothers Apart! Stay awhile, kick up your boots, and have some pie!

Current AUs in the Lounge:

Brothers Together (Teenager big Dean; tiny kiddo Sam; tiny kiddo Oscar)
Brothers Apart (The original Dean and Sam)
Brothers Lost (Big Jacob with the tiny bros)

****** Departing


Brothers Found (Big Dean and Jacob, tiny Sam)
Brothers Adopted (Big Dean, tiny Jacob and Sam)

****** New Arrivals

Time, that endless flow that the Lounge existed without, passed outside the doors. Within, the different groups mingled, each with their own stories and tales to tell the others. From time to time, the smallest member of the Lounge, little Oscar whom even the bartender loved to see come around and peek out into view, would have to leave, called by a mysterious summons.

But he always came back, and always went back over to his young Dean and Sam, who were delighted to see him and managed to take away the sadness that fell over him each time.

Between serving whiskeys and pies and mysteriously bussing tables without ever being seen, Gabriel kept a sharp eye on the TV suspended above his bar. On it, the flashing colors belonging to each AU switched between different polls, and he was surprised to see the same group get voted in a second time. Family Ties turned into First Hunt, glowing its win.

Over at the table with the two Jacobs sitting, they watched the tiny Winchesters go through a few games, Dean quickly putting up a better fight now that he knew Sam was his equal at the game. It grew more heated between them, but all in good fun with the occasional call to “Rack ‘em, loser!” when one won.

The original Dean of the crew came strolling over to watch the game, his mouth quirked into a smile as he saw his tiny counterpart clearing the table with one stroke after the other.

Then, to the smaller Dean’s eternal consternation, Dean swept him right up off the table with a shit-eating grin right after his winning stroke sunk the eight ball in the corner pocket.

“What’s the big idea?” Dean griped up at his giant counterpart, batting at the fingers around him. As fast as this Dean was, his grip was always surprisingly gentle.

“Oh, nothing,” Dean said innocently. “Just figured you might want to see how the big boys play.” With a grin, he plunked tiny Dean right down on the pool table, still a mess from an earlier game with the solid balls still on the table, all the stripes gone.

“Jackass!” Dean shot up at him, shoving a yellow 1 out of his way as he stalked for the edge.

To the side, Gabriel watched all the happenings between the groups, always alert for any actual danger between the different sizes. Danger was discouraged, but jokes and pranks…

Well, those were fully encouraged and endorsed.

Both Jacobs were just as surprised by how quickly the larger of the two Deans had just swept up his tiny counterpart. The younger Jacob, still sporting a black eye that was doing a lot better since he came into the lounge, stood from his seat to wander over to the pool. Behind him, the other Jacob held out a hand for the Sam who’d been left on his own.

Young-Jacob stared at the 1 ball as it rolled slowly to a stop only a few inches from where it started. The mini-Dean looked so small among the normal-sized pool balls.

Ever wary of how his own Dean didn’t want him around the little guys, Jacob didn’t immediately move to offer a hand. “I think this table’s more of a football field,” he mused.

“A football field with a jackass giant!” Dean griped up from where he was walking. The edges of the table had places he could climb down without his hook and thread, so that’s where he headed.

The larger Dean chuckled, lining up a shot with the cue ball and lightly nudging it towards the 1. It was barely a love tap, sending the ball into Dean’s way as he stalked by. With a swear, the smaller Dean kicked at the ball.

A second Dean strolled over, his hands in his pockets as he looked over the pool table. “Mini-me’s having some issues there,” he commented to the Sam on his shoulder.

The original Dean frowned at him. “How old are you, anyway?” he inquired as he took aim at the yellow 1 again.

Dean scowled. “I’m 26, dude!” he griped, looking annoyed at the question.

Dean chuckled as he tapped the cue ball again to piss of the smaller Dean. “I’m 27.”

“Yeah, well I’m 28 which means I’m in charge around here!” the little Dean snapped, shoving the cue ball back at his larger counterpart only to make the man chuckle again as he steadied the ball.

While they bickered by the pool tables, the screen above Gabriel flickered, and this time there were four names listed above, flashing as it was decided which one would post next.

Like a Moth to Flame

Sam of Wellwood

The Water’s Fine

Bothering Bowman

Gabriel mused that if Dean couldn’t find his way off the pool table by the time the vote ended, he’d get a free ticket off if his story came up.

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August 8th excerpt:

Dean side-eyed Jacob as he tucked his wallet and phone into his pants. “I don’t do girlfriends,” he said shortly, the image of his latest fling on his mind as he shoved the rest of his supplies into his duffel bag. “This job doesn’t leave room for attachments.”

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August 7th excerpt:

The t-shirt in the drawer provided plenty of fabric for Jacob to get lost in, and all Dean could make out was a barely visible tuft of brown hair sticking out of a fold. Fighting back a smile, Dean slipped a hand into the drawer and somehow managed to wiggle his fingers underneath the shirt, scooping Jacob and the t-shirt up as one.

With care, Dean settled the bundled up shirt on the part of the bed recently vacated by himself. Some of the warmth from his body remained in the sheets, and he left Jacob there as he went to get ready for the day.

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August 5th excerpt:

Part of the spike of Dean’s hair was squashed into the pillow he lay on. Jacob stepped back to survey his chances, and then made a short hop forward to stumble onto Dean’s forehead.

Once there, Jacob froze and let what he was doing really sink in. He stood on a human’s face, with a pen tucked under one arm ready to draw on said face. He was about to prank a giant.

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August 4th excerpt:

The moment those fingers closed around him, Jacob felt his heart skip a beat. Even knowing Dean wouldn’t hurt him or keep him trapped like that, he couldn’t help the bolt of pure instinct that raced through his system. Until Dean opened his hand, he was trapped, truly and completely.

The Lounge || A Jacob a Day (5 of 5)

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Dean replaced the cue ball on the table, and Sam attempted the shot again, this time hitting the ball off one of the solids and sinking it in the pocket. He grinned.

“We found Godzilla,” Dean corrected the younger Jacob, looking away from Sam’s lesson. “Or at least, his pie.”

The so-called ‘Godzilla’ smirked again and shrugged. “Looks like us Jacobs have trouble with first impressions,” he pointed out. “And yet Dean here still gave me a job as their driver.”

Younger Jacob’s eyebrows went up. “You got to drive the Impala?” It was obvious to anyone who saw Dean near that black-and-chrome behemoth that it was important to him. The care that went into that car was meticulous.

“Jacob helped rebuild the Impala,” Dean corrected again as Sam took another shot. “Since Dad didn’t have the heart to drive her anymore.”

Sam sunk a second ball, straightening proudly. Now he was closing the gap between him and Dean. There was a chance he could turn this lesson around on his older brother. He lined up a third shot while Dean was distracted lecturing two Jacobs.

“And now he’s part of the team,” Dean finished, “since we needed a driver. Hey–!”

Dean finally spotted Sam as he sank a third ball, huge grin on his face. “You were saying about lessons?”

The older Jacob smirked. Sam always had that way of keeping Dean in check, especially since his size made him extra hotheaded. Inwardly, he was proud all over again that he’d gotten enough trust to be invited along on hunts with the small Winchesters. His younger self would probably get his own Dean’s trust, eventually.

For now, he was welcome to hang out with them. Older Jacob leaned down slightly to count out what remained on the pool table with Sam slowly turning the tide in his favor. “Got some catching up to do, Dean,” he quipped, knowing it would just rile him up even more.

Younger Jacob cracked a grin of his own. He reached down to the stand where the unused pool sticks waited. It took some work, but he managed to pinch one in his fingers without knocking the others over.

“I got next game,” he jested, brandishing the little thing proudly.

Dean gave Jacob a flat look back, but Sam chimed in, “You bet!” as he sunk his fourth in a row.

“Since when are you a sniper?” Dean bitched as he sized up the table, and Sam missed his fifth hit. “You didn’t even know what chalk was a few minutes ago!”

Sam shrugged. “Beginners luck?”

And he grinned.

“Or just a good hustle,” the older Jacob muttered, his own grin widening. He hadn’t had much chance to get to know this Sam yet. He did know, however, that Sam knew all the precise buttons to push to needle his brother. Growing up together with almost no one else around would do that.

“Good thing you didn’t put anything on the line for this game,” younger Jacob added in.

“Maybe next time,” Sam said, sauntering to the side.

Dean took a few more shots, glowering when he scratched on the second, and Sam took his place. The game was quickly over between the brothers as Sam took out each of his balls one after the other, and the last was a double, and then the eight ball in the corner pocket.

“Rack ‘em, loser,” Sam said jauntily.