Tag: prompt

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I figured I’d put down what I’ve had in mind… so here’s your sequel!

The Incredible Shrinking Winchester Conclusion

BA Canon: No || AU

Timeline: After The Schism of Fire and Water

( Part 1 of 4 )

How long had it been?

Dean paced back and forth impatiently, desperate for the son of a bitch to show their face. The cracked earth beneath his boots formed the intersection of two roads off in the countryside.

How long?

How long since Sam had disappeared? How long since Dean had glanced away for one second and lost sight of his brother forever?

He’d failed.

Failure.

The one person in his life he’d never wanted to let down. The one person he’d do anything for.

The person he’d failed when they were kids. The person he’d failed again when they reunited.

You’re a fucking failure. He deserved better and he always did.

The insidious voice whispered in Dean’s mind constantly. Every day he sat at that same table, praying his brother would reappear. How long had it been? Days? Weeks? Months? Considering that Bobby had chased him out of the house, it had to have been a long time.

There’s nothing you can do for him now. He’s gone and you need to accept that.

Had it been a year?

How long would Bobby let Dean stay in his house? The days had blended together. All he did was read, and research, and delve into lore he’d never known existed.

Anything to get his brother back.

Tears pricked at Dean’s eyes as he paced angrily across the crossroads.

“Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes, sugar.”

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Sam’s Soda

BA Canon: Yes

Timeline: After The Golden Touch

Sam groaned, doubling over. His bottlecap shifted far enough on the pillow to tip, spilling the Coke all over the plush white surface. It spread out a dark stain.

Dean poked his head out of the bathroom, concern on his face at the quiet moaning. “Sam, is everything…”

He spotted the doubled-over form on the pillow. “Sam!” Dean was over at the bed in an instant.

Sam felt himself fall onto his back, thrown off balance from the sight of Dean growing so large, so fast. He blinked up at his older brother looming overhead for a few seconds before curling up again in pain.

It was so all-encompassing he didn’t even pay any mind to the two hands that cupped carefully around him, slowly edging under his body. Sam was lifted up into the air, finding himself level with concerned green eyes.

A finger brushed against his arms, trying to coax him out of his crumpled position. “Sam, did you drink the soda?”

“Uhhh… maybe. W…why?”

Dean’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and he moved his hand so Sam could lay flat. “I think maybe next time we should wait for it to go flat.”

Sam buried his face in the thick, soft skin underneath. He felt a burp come up, lessening the pressure in his middle.

“I think maybe you’re right.”

Special Edition Prompt!

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Currently, @bittykimmy and I are looking to start a story together and we need your help!

We need help coming up with an idea to build into a story. We’re both loving the fae (her fairies and my sprites), the borrowers designed in my BA, or her shapeshifters, seen in Myth Meets Myth or OC’s of mine that can change size at will. And of course, if in doubt there’s always the Winchesters, but we’re open for all types of ideas! Please, send us in ideas over the weekend so we can start on some new story fun!

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For this one, if Dean popped out of the room, they’d be fine. John isn’t about to start grabbing the people that his son just saved, and he already knew about the small people like Sam. So they wouldn’t be in any danger. He might be an ass, but he’s not going to hurt them.

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Oh, Dean knows the first thing that’ll happen is Walt will lecture them until their ears fall off. Another part that would hold Dean back is Sean is very nervous and shy around him. A big human lecturing the teeny kid might make him scared, and that’s the last thing that Dean would ever want to do. Plus, Dean’s become good at not moving at night out of habit for when Sam’s hanging out in a pocket, so they weren’t in any danger.

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Sam cautiously pushed open the door of his room, glancing around the dark interior before stepping in. It closed behind him with a click as he padded over to the light switch, trying to soften his footsteps as he went.

“Dean?” he called out as he snapped on the light, peering around every corner he could see. “You here?”

When no answer came, he carried his bags over to the table, piling them on the surface. He started to go through them, pulling out his lunch and a white container from the local quickee shop.

“Y’know, you need to work on your sneaking skills,” came a teasing voice from down on the ground.

Surprised, Sam pulled his feet off the floor, searching for the small figure. Dean was standing down next to the leg of the bed.

“I’m not trying to sneak around in my own room!” Sam shot back, watching wide-eyed as his tiny big brother darted out into the open, heading for the table. Watching Dean toss his small hook at the table, catching it on the edge of one of the bags Sam had placed there moments ago, was mesmerizing. He was so small, but he didn’t seem to have an issue getting around at all.

It was only a moment before Dean managed to scramble to the top, sauntering with a casual bow-legged walk across the wooden surface. Boots barely the size of Sam’s fingertip scuffed against the grain. “What if there was someone in here waiting for you?” Dean pointed out as he stopped, putting his hands casually in the back pockets of his jeans.

Sam had to hold back the questions he had shaking around in his head. Where did Dean get his clothes from? How’d he survive? Did he live nearby?

And the hardest question of all, one that Sam had no right to ask.

Would Dean consider leaving the motel?

For now, he simply picked up the white container. “If there’s anyone in here, I figure you’d warn me,” he stated dryly.

Dean frowned, then nodded sharply. Sam smirked. They both remembered the old days where Dean had always watched out for him. It didn’t seem like anything had changed there.

Dean took a step towards the box, then warily eyed the huge hands around it. “What’s that?” he asked.

A flicker of hurt hit Sam at the clear suspicion and distrust, but considering just a day ago he’d grabbed Dean in a fist, he couldn’t blame his brother for it. Hopefully he’d be able to get past that roadblock.

Sam mentally shrugged it off as he opened the container. “I figured I owe you… for yesterday and… leaving you here, all that time ago.” He sighed, shoulders slumping down at the memories. “I can’t really make up for that,” he mumbled, “but I figured I could at least start.”

A light touch on his hand drew his attention away from the past. Dean was standing there, right next to the hands he was so wary around. “Sammy, that wasn’t your fault,” he said in a gruff voice that was deeper than he’d ever expected from someone so small. “We can’t change the past. You were never to blame in any of this.”

Sam blew his hair out of his eyes with a sigh. “Right.” He did his best to believe what Dean had said…

But still.

If he’d never left, Dean wouldn’t be afraid of him. His big brother wouldn’t be leery just standing near his hands. He could have taken care of his big brother the way family was supposed to.

Sam unfolded his hands from the box. “I hope your favorite’s still pie,” he said, letting himself smile again. “I know you used to love apple.”

Dean’s eyes were huge at the sight. A fresh slice of apple pie sat there, bigger than he was. “Holy shit…” he breathed. He took a step towards it, then hesitated. He craned his neck over his shoulder. “You got this… for me?” he asked in disbelief.

Sam’s grin covered his face. “Who else?” he asked back. “It’s all yours. I even have my own snack right over here.” He pulled out a wrap, taking off the aluminum foil to reveal his sandwich. “Take your time.”

Dean relaxed a little more, some of the tension that lingered from the other day dropping away. He walked up, putting a hand on the crumbling crust and breaking off a piece to stare at it for a moment. In complete disbelief that it was there, waiting for him. “Thanks, Sammy.”

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John got the hell out of there. He didn’t actually know that Sam was cursed and with them until probably about a half hour into the drive. He thought that the witch had taken his youngest and was gunning for his eldest. His first thought was getting Dean the hell out of that motel and out of her reach.

Dean managed to pull himself together enough to reveal what he had cupped between his hands. Poor Sam was downsized to two and a half inches. They ended up on the side of the road when John was too shocked to keep driving.

With Sam unconscious and no way for them to wake him, they drove to Bobby’s. Dean refused to leave Sam’s side. While John and Bobby were desperately searching for a cure or a curse reversal, he was there with his brother in his hands, watching over him.

When Sam woke up a week later, he and Dean were in their own room at Bobby’s, but his bed was now too big. So Dean kept him on his chest to sleep, where he could make sure Sam was safe the entire time.

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Dean groaned as he read over the text. “This is boring,” he grumbled. “We should sneak out and get ice cream.”

Sam scoffed, taking a few steps on Dean’s back. He’d started out perched on Dean’s head so he could read over the assignment, but Dean spent so much of his time grumbling over the work, he was still on the same page five minutes after Sam had finished.

After being this size for a few weeks, he was beginning to find it far more intriguing than frightening. So long as their dad wasn’t yelling at them, of course. Even now, he could feel the muscles shift under his feet as Dean finally went to turn the page. He was massively outsized, but perfectly safe where he was.

“Y’know that I can’t give you all the answers,” Sam pointed out, walking back up to a shoulder so he could peer off. “You need to do some of it for yourself.”

No one had spotted Sam yet, not even during a test. He was small enough to use the folds in the shirt to hide in, and his voice was soft enough that the other students couldn’t hear him. Dean’s grades had taken an upswing, even with the course material a few years ahead of where Sam was. It was a welcome challenge that he could use to keep his mind off things.

Dean reached the end of the reading and grabbed a notebook. “Whatever. But you’re still helping me with the homework, pint-size. Can’t have you slacking off either.”

Sam hid a smirk as he swung his legs off the edge of the shoulder, letting them dangle before he dropped down to the soft mattress below. He landed in a pile, bouncing slightly before he caught his balance. From this angle, he was completely bathed in shadow from above, Dean’s shoulders blocking the light.

Making his way over to the book, he glanced up at Dean. “Do you at least have something my size to write with?”

Dean looked like a deer in headlights when he was put on the spot. He glanced between Sam, who stood all of two and a half inches tall, and the pencil in his hand, which was easily five inches, if not longer.

“Uhh…” Dean trailed off.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Looks like you’ll still be doing the work,” he jabbed.

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John crossed his arms, staring down at the brothers. “Mind explaining what the hell you were thinking?” he demanded of Dean. 

Dean stiffened, annoyance flashing in his eyes. Sam was surprised. Even after everything, he was so used to Dean doing whatever their dad said like a good little soldier. But now, the older brother was in clear disagreement with the hunter.

Dean clenched a fist. “He’s not going to learn anything if we just lock him up all day. And I was watching out for him. No one ever saw him in my hood.”

John scowled. Sam shrank a little closer to Dean, intimidated by the angry glare. No matter how much he understood intellectually that he wasn’t going to be hurt, it was hard to see someone bigger than a building so angry.

Dean’s hand scooped Sam off the table when he wasn’t looking, too distracted by their father. He was cupped protectively by Dean’s chest while the boy continued arguing. “Dad, if we just keep him locked up like that, he’s going to get bored and he needs to stay sharp if he’s going to be this size, at least until we find a cure. You can’t watch him all day. At least if he’s with me, he’s safe.”

John didn’t move for a minute, sizing both his sons up with his arms crossed. “If anything happens to him, you’re responsible,” he snapped at Dean before stalking away.

Sam could feel the tension leak out of Dean the moment he was turned away. He didn’t say a word, holding his tongue as gratitude filled him. He wouldn’t be stuck in a massive room all day with nowhere to go. 

Thanks to Dean, who’d stood up to their father for the first time.