Tag: lald

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January 5th excerpt:

“I- I…” Flustered by the question, Stan cleared his throat and tried again. “I’ve never had anything like this. I really wouldn’t know where to start.”

A prime example came in the form of the brownish liquid Sam had given him. Stan eyed it suspiciously; he didn’t like the way it bubbled, but he approached it anyway. He had to at least give it a try.

Stan was still hesitant as he pulled the cap closer, leaning in to give the drink a sniff. It smelled unlike anything he’d ever encountered before– not that that was saying much– and when he leaned over, a particularly persistent bubble rose from the depths and gave a large pop. This startled the little guy, and he jumped back in surprise, managing to put a few inches between himself and the uncomfortably active drink.

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January 4th excerpt:

The trip to grab food went without a hitch. Sam hovered his other hand over Stan to block him from sight of the attendant at the window. It was odd how peaceably Stan sat there, letting the brothers talk over him the entire time. If they didn’t address him directly, he didn’t go out of his way to catch their attention.

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January 3rd excerpt:

Dean’s boot came in to smash the ashes into the ground, breaking Stan out of his reverie, and made him duck a little closer to the edge of Sam’s hand. That hexbag had been Stan’s size, likely bigger than him, and now it was crushed into nothing.

Maybe that’s how they’ll do it, something morbid in the back of Stan’s mind thought. Crushing. Relatively clean, takes less than a second.

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January 2nd excerpt:

Kneeling down, Sam motioned for Dean to keep watch. The older brother backed against the wall, standing next to where Sam flattened his hand against the ground to let Stan off.

“Be careful,” Sam cautioned in a whisper. “We’ll be right here. If I hear anyone coming, I’ll knock on the wall.”

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January 1st excerpt:

With the music barely loud enough to be heard, Sam relaxed a little, lifting up his cupped hands to peer inside. “You okay?” he breathed, forming a crack with two fingers that was just big enough to make out Stan’s tiny form huddled inside.

Stan could feel the tension leaving Sam’s hands just before they lifted. The quieter, darker environment he found himself in helped him relax a little, too, and he lowered his hands and picked up his head to find concerned hazel eyes peeking in at him.

He felt heat rising in his neck, and he was grateful for the darkness of the little alcove Sam had made with his hands. Stan was pale by nature, and the slightest blush was obvious in his complexion. Ever since Dean had told him to calm down, he’d been trying to do just that, in the hopes of appeasing him and his brother. He could only hope that such skittish behavior would be forgiven.

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December 31st excerpt:

Stan crouched low in Dean’s hand as it moved, bracing himself through the movement. He couldn’t keep his grip forever, though, especially when the hand tilted beneath him. A yelp died in his throat as he was passed to a new palm.

Sam’s palm.

After Stan sat himself back up, he froze at the sight. He found he had even more room in his new spot, much more than he ever found in Nicholas’ hands. Glancing at his fingers, cupped and bloodstained as they were, wasn’t comforting in the slightest. If Stan thought Dean’s fingers were tall, he was sorely mistaken. There probably wasn’t a single one of Sam’s that Stan could stand a chance at outsizing.

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December 30th excerpt:

Sam nearly dropped the journal when Dean shoved the hand holding Stan at him, hurriedly pocketing the book to be able to cup his hands. There was no time to worry about the droplets of blood staining the side of his fingers, something he normally didn’t worry about until they finished the hunt. “Dean!” Sam hissed, frantic about how quick his brother was moving with the little guy.

“Don’t worry, he’s fine! ” Dean insisted, tilting his hands into a slight incline to slide Stan into Sam’s hands. “Right, kid?”

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December 29th excerpt:

“See?” Sam shot up at Dean. “Not a leprechaun.”

Dean rolled his eyes yet again. “Like it’s a hard mistake to make. You have to admit he fits the profile.”

“Minus the magic.” Sam took the knife back, tucking it into the sheath in his jacket. “I doubt he’d sit quietly in your jacket for thirty minutes if he had spells he could sling at us.”

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December 28th excerpt:

Stan’s tiny green eyes flicked back up to Sam, only to drop shyly back down. It was startling to look up and suddenly find himself face to face with a toothy grin wider than he was tall. And while he was mostly sure that he didn’t have to worry about anything from it, the hunters had given him nothing to say for sure that he didn’t.

Either way, the sight of those large teeth did little more than make Stan cringe. His bones were so thin compared to the humans’ fingers, and it was hard for Stan to banish the image of how easily he could snap in half between those incisors.

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December 27th excerpt:

“S… S-Stan,” he replied, gaze lowering a bit as he internally chastised himself for being too quiet, stammering too much. He didn’t know these humans well enough to tell if they would mind.

“Well Stan,” Sam said, his face blossoming into a smile to help reassure the kid Dean was holding, “it’s good to meet you.” Despite everything, he was completely sincere, a distinctly different countenance compared to Dean.