July 29th excerpt:

Jacob was still messing awkwardly with his tie when Dean stepped out of the bathroom. His suit was on, and he was absently adjusting the collar when he spotted Jacob’s trouble. “So I guess this means it fits?” Dean asked casually as he came over to the table, eyeing up how the suit sat on Jacob’s shoulders. “Maybe not perfect, but beggars can’t be choosers…” He trailed off as he leaned in towards Jacob. They both already knew it was hard to find good clothing in Jacob’s size.

“Lemme give you a hand…” Dean offered as he reached automatically for the tiny tie Jacob was trying to straighten. He doubted a guy the size of a finger had much use for clothing so fancy, unless there were pint-sized balls by the mice in the walls.

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.

July 27th excerpt:

And,” Dean continued, growing prouder, if that was possible. He lifted up his other hand, withdrawing one last item from his other jacket pocket where it had been stashed to avoid getting crumpled up with the rest of the clothing. A tiny suit dangled from his fingertips, complete with a bitty tie in Jacob’s size. Dean brandished it next to Jacob. “You can come with me when I interview people now!”

I feel bad for any tiny Jacob running into a full-sized Sam and Dean, especially if they know nothing of smols just yet. That poor, poor kid. Getting questioned to find out where he’s from and why he’s like that, running tests to see if he’s possessed or a fae… he’ll have a hard time altogether. 

Imagine his increasing confusion as these guys throw salt at him, then holy water, and then boop him with iron and silver. What exactly could these humans have planned? The little guys always hear these scary stories about cages and poison and stuff like that. Iron and salt, though, that’s new territory. What great luck to be caught by crazy people.

Jacob camps a lot, and is for the most part a more outdoorsy type than Dean is, so he’s more likely to tan (in addition to being Mediterranean, which helps his chances in the sun). Dean spends most of his days holed up in a room researching, with a good amount of his waking hours at night hunting spirits. He will burn quick before he tans if he’s not expecting it.

Sam will never let Dean hear the end of it, but he better keep out of the sun himself. All those years in the motel left him even paler than Dean, so he’ll burn faster.

Bowman would be very critical of all of this. People burning just from spending time in the life-giving sun?! It’s such a weird idea. Even knowing that sprites can get themselves dried out and overheated, he will be baffled. Of course, the shedding will have him wondering if they’re sick and need some kind of medicine. Dean would get such a Look for all of this.

This is what happens when the Winchesters aren’t there to haul their friends out of trouble!

@nightmares06

Also, you can pile the blame for this turn of events on me, not neon.


@neonthewrite – She came to me with a really great “Hey Neon what if …” conversation and I couldn’t not. But really, everyone give some props to @borrowedtimeandspace for forgiving us, since after I made it I had her read the whole thing to check it for me and I more or less split the story juuuust before the part where she paused reading to come back to skype and YELL at me about it. 

Conditioning (2/2)

( Read from the beginning )


Jacob.” The warning tone in the human’s voice startled them both. They flinched back and looked up to find the human staring darkly down at them.

Only a second later, he slammed a fist on the table barely two inches from where they stood, and Oscar cried out. They both fell back to a seat.

“Oliver here hasn’t been through any conditioning before, so I can understand his lapse, but you, Jacob? You know the rules,” the human said, as disappointed as a person could be. He took a seat at the table and clasped his hands in front of him. “Care to tell us which rule you just broke?”

Oscar’s eyes were wide and he trembled as the human leaned close. His face was set in a no-nonsense expression, and Oscar shied back from it. Jacob, on the other hand, set his expression in a wary mask.

“I … uh. Don’t speak unless spoken to?” Jacob offered. “But I thought that wouldn’t apply-”

The clasped hands moved too quickly for either of them. They each found an index finger shoving them onto their backs and pinning them down. Oscar squeaked in pain and Jacob grunted, and the human stared down at them dispassionately. “We have a reputation in this business, you know. High quality product. Y’think I got us here by selling you off with half-arsed training? Do better.”

The fingers lifted off of them and Oscar took a breath. He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled over onto his side while his back pulsed with pain. Beside him, he heard Jacob sigh and get to his feet wearily.

“Oliver. Get up.” The human’s words left no room for ambiguity. That was an order, and he expected it to be followed.

Oscar shuddered again and pushed himself back to a seat before scrubbing at the tears in his eyes. He grimaced as he rose the rest of the way to his feet, standing extra small next to Jacob, whose eyes were on his shoes.

“Very good,” the human praised. Oscar shuffled his feet and couldn’t bring himself to look up at the man. “Let’s get started.”

A hand reached out and snatched Oscar up. While the human began listing various rules and guidelines for how they were meant to act, the huge hands casually moved Oscar back and forth from one to the other, sometimes pinching around his waist and sometimes holding him in a fist. Once he even dangled upside down by his leg before being plopped down in a palm.

Handling. The human was simply trying to force him to get used to handling and being talked over.

“You shiver too much,” the human determined, partway through his explanation. “Customers don’t like that.”

He deposited Oscar on the table and grabbed Jacob instead before either of them could predict the movement. Oscar watched as Jacob was subjected to all the same handling, turned this way and that. It was like he was little more than an object to be fidgeted while the human held a conversation more with himself than with his tiny captives.

The worst part was seeing how Jacob hardly struggled at all. He winced at times, and Oscar knew his burns stung him more than once. And yet, the kid tried his best not to fight what was happening to him.

They were both helpless.

It was hard to guess the time, but it had to have been hours by the time the salesman carried Oscar and Jacob back towards the room with the cages. Oscar, despite the constant throbbing pain in his back, scrambled to the front of his own cage once the human deposited him on the floor.

He was just in time to see Jacob dropped into a different kind of cage, this one with no bars on the front and barely an opening at the top for air. It looked more like a safe than a cage, and its door was heavy when it closed up.

When the human had them both locked up, he smirked back at Oscar. “Don’t get attached, Ollie. They never buy pairs.”

And then he left them all alone in the room of cages once more.