The Lounge || A Jacob a Day (5 of 5)

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.

The Lounge || A Jacob a Day (4 of 5)

Jacob mirrored Sam’s smirk, though he tried to make sure Dean didn’t spot it. He took his leave of their table and felt less like he was looming over Sam and Oscar so much. Even up on the table, they could easily fall into someone’s shadow.

He wandered closer to the entertainment area where his counterpart stood. The kid on the arcade machine was intent on it, and Jacob noticed belatedly that someone else was on the mini-version of the arcade console, too. The systems were put together so well that Jacob couldn’t even tell who was playing who.

Getting closer, he realized there were two small figures at one of the tiny pool tables. The other Jacob was absently watching both games, hands in his hoodie pocket.

“Hey,” Jacob greeted, unsure. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to talk to himself face to face, but wasn’t actually sure what he’d say.

The older Jacob grinned. “Hey, dude, good to see another me around. But who gave you the shiner?”

The newcomer Jacob touched faintly at the bruised skin around his eye. “I uh. The Dean I know actually decked me pretty soon after meeting him. Didn’t … make a good impression on him.”

“Score one for the Deans!” Dean called up to the Jacobs as he bridged his fingers on the pool table, pulling back and striking at the cue ball. The tiny clinking of pool balls could be heard from down on the table as he took the first shot, scoring two balls in the pocket holes. “Awesome!” he declared, prowling around the side of the table to size up his next shot.

Sam was standing to the side, absently rubbing the tip of pool stick. Having shrunk at ten, he only remembered a few vague lessons from Dean on the game, all done furtively at the bar while their dad was busy. Dean had declared it time for some overdue lessons the second he discovered there was equipment tailored to their size, including pool sticks aplenty to choose from. He’d tested the heft and weight of a few, finding one that felt perfect to him and had Sam test out some.

Dean lined up his next shot, and sunk it in the side pocket. “See that, Sammy? Just gotta learn from the master,” he said, just this side of preening as he took another shot. This one bounced off, and he surrendered the table to Sam.

“So, Dean got the best of you?” Dean called up to the new Jacob by their table, smirking. “Godzilla over here is regretting the first time he grabbed me, let me tell you.”

The taller Jacob rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny it. Instead, one hand emerged from his pocket and he held it out to show off two healing scars. One adorned his fingertip, and the other had been a nasty gash closer down on his arm. “They definitely make an impression, these Winchesters.”

Younger Jacob’s eyebrows shot up. He held up his thumb, displaying the bandaging wrapped tightly around it. His ‘impression’ from his own Sam was much more recent. “Sam really caught me off guard with his knife,” he agreed mulishly. He knew he’d earned it.

“Looks like your Dean had something to say, too,” older Jacob said with a grin. “Don’t worry. If he’s anything like this guy,” he pointed a thumb down at the tiny, smug Dean on the table, “he’ll probably come around eventually.”

Young Jacob nodded, glancing between the three of them. “So … I’m guessing you found them together?” he asked his older self. “I just found Sam, we had to go find Dean.”

Sam focused on his shot, trying to ignore the banter around him. His pool stick hit the cue ball, and the white ball jumped.

“Scratch!” Dean said sternly. He picked up a tiny blue square from the edge of the table and tossed it at Sam. To either Jacob, it would look the size of a grain of rice, but for the brothers it would serve its purpose. “Don’t rub the chalk off the tip,” he chided as Sam begrudgingly chalked his pool stick. “Try again.”