February 6th excerpt:
As Dean’s voice started to talk to the pizza shop, ordering what sounded suspiciously like ‘the Ultimate Meat-Lovers pizza,’ Sam took pity on the rumpled little guy, slipping two fingers into the pocket with Stan. Though he didn’t go to scoop the guy out, still worried about possibly injuring Stan with one wrong move or making him equate them to the witch’s care, Sam kept his fingers steady.
“Feel like getting some fresh air?” Sam offered warmly.
January 23rd excerpt:
Sam didn’t notice at first that Stan had vanished from the top of the pocket, so intrigued by the story in the book was he. It wasn’t until he’d reached well over halfway that he glanced down to find Stan gone.
Concerned, Sam nudged open the flap of his pocket to see inside, spotting Stan in his ragged clothing curled up inside, fast asleep. The amount of trust invested in them by the little guy hit Sam all at once. Stan had no control over what happened to him, yet he was slumbering peacefully away, his face relaxed.
January 20th excerpt:
“Can I go back down now?” With the book tucked away and Sam dealing with the others, planning to meet back up with Dean in five minutes, Stan figured he ought to be hidden in the pocket once again. However, he didn’t want to just drop out if Sam expected to continue the conversation at all.
“Uh, sure,” Sam said, distracted and vaguely surprised by the question. “You don’t need to ask.”
January 16th excerpt:
Light flooded into the pocket from above. A large finger pulled the flap out of the way, letting Sam peer into the depths of the pocket, the edges of his one visible hazel eye crinkling in concern. The pupil dilated, focusing down on Stan.
“You okay?” came Sam’s voice, this time vibrating out of the very wall next to Stan’s seat.
January 15th excerpt:
The drop was sharp, but the landing was soft, and Stan ended up in a tangle of limbs at the bottom of Sam’s pocket. He had difficulty finding his feet in the oversized hammock, clutching the fabric around him for some semblance of stability.
When he finally fell still, sitting in a corner with his back pressed to a side seam, Stan’s eyes widened. The world shifted ever so slightly back and forth as Sam breathed right next to him, hearing the dull roar of those massive lungs as they filled and emptied in time. If he concentrated, he could make out the thrum of Sam’s heart deep within the expansive wall of muscle he found himself leaning against in his temporary sanctuary. A heart Stan might be able to fit inside, lungs large enough to be rooms, maybe even small houses!
“Oh, boy,” murmured Stan as Sam’s magnitude hit him like a ton of bricks. He thanked goodness that Sam was as mindful of him as he was.
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.”
December 26th excerpt:
Dropping to his knees, Sam had eyes only for Stan. He missed the way Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes above them, his hand wavering slightly under Stan in his distraction. A movement that Sam missed, so slight that it was barely perceptible for the human hunter.
“Hey there,” Sam said, his voice hushed so it was nearly a whisper. He flared his fingers open into a small wave. “My name’s Sam. That’s my brother Dean. What’s your name?” His voice remained level and even, doing what he could to lessen any intimidation to the smaller man. After being left in Dean’s pocket for so long, Sam doubted the guy would be thinking completely straight.
December 25th excerpt:
“That’s right, I almost forgot,” Dean murmured in surprise, drawing Sam’s eyes right to him, distracted from watching the fire slowly die down. He went to reach for the pocket, shifting his weight to make it easier for his hand to slip in.
December 23rd excerpt:
Stan grunted softly as he landed unceremoniously in the bottom of the pocket, but for a moment he was too shocked to move. The human had spared him, trapping him in what looked like a jacket pocket instead of killing him. Stan had to wonder why he was allowed to live, especially as he clung to the material around him to keep himself from being thrown around while the human moved.
September 3rd excerpt:
Jacob was greeted by the sight of a man in a leather jacket and jeans, hair in a casual spike and fierce green eyes. It had to be the very same Dean Winchester he’d talked to the day before.
Jacob could have sworn he saw a quick motion on Dean’s chest, ducking out of sight near the pocket there. Holy shit, he briefly thought, and willed himself not to glance directly at the pocket. Bowman had mentioned that if Sam wasn’t on a shoulder, he rode in a pocket. Either Jacob had tricked his own eyes, or someone was hiding there even know.
Brothers Apart 