Lucky for Dean, he’s quite a bit older for Sam. He’d been living on his own for a few years when Sam caught him, and wouldn’t see Walt or Mallory right after his capture. They’d find out when he wanted to approach them with it… which with Dean, could be at any time. He’d wait long enough to be sure Sam wasn’t a threat to anyone, then go talk to them.

Sam and Walt tend to explode at each other, Dean and Walt have a mutual respect for each other. So the dynamics of the family is a lot different in either universe

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.”

Cursed Dean 7 (Final)

The man who’d named himself Sam gaped at the tiny amulet in amazement. It was so small next to him, Dean found himself in shock that someone so massive would even be able to tell what it was. He tucked it back into his shirt, hating how small it always looked against the gigantic surroundings.

And now it was smaller than ever. He was surrounded by massive books that Sam had been reading, a huge bottle of water looming overhead and an enormous laptop blocking the table from behind. There was nothing in the entire room that was made for his size. No, it was all made for Sam’s size. Who was still human.

Who was still alive.

Deep in the darkest recesses of his mind, Dean had feared for years that Sammy would get hurt, would get himself killed because their dad let his guard down or took Sam on a hunt he wasn’t prepared for. Dean had spent years trying to keep his brother safe, but none of that mattered when you were effectively dead to them.

He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to sort out the conflicting emotions. Anger. Rage. Unbridled joy at discovering his little brother was alive and well. A fucking Godzilla, but alive, and suddenly that’s all that mattered as the reality sunk in.

Sam must have been thinking along the same lines as Dean. He stared back at his ‘big’ bro like a man that had just found an oasis in the desert, hazel eyes more potent than ever now that they were the size of Dean’s head.

Dean took a step forward. “Sammy…” he started gruffly, throat closing at the emotions. He hadn’t uttered that name in over thirteen years.

Not once.

And now that baby brother was here, a full grown… overgrown… man. Lean, in shape, damn fast reflexes and good instincts… Someone that Dean could be proud of.

Sam’s face relaxed into a smile at the familiar nickname. “I’m here, Dean. I was gone for a long time, but I’m here now.”

He reached forward carefully, slipping his hand under the smaller Winchester’s body. This time, Dean didn’t fight it as a tear rolled down his cheek. This time, he was lifted from the table carefully, his back supported by long fingers that stretched over his head. Even the vertigo was gone as he stared into Sam’s watering eyes, as overwhelmed by emotion as Dean was.

The huge, powerful hands cupped him against Sam’s chest, where he could hear his brother’s steady heart thud along, where he could feel its every beat deep in his bones.

“You don’t have to be alone anymore.”


And so we have the heartwarming conclusion of Dean’s first encounter with Sam. Trust me, there may be more coming in the future for our reverse BA team, so keep an eye out for any other random drabbles. Also! Feel free to include borrower Dean in any prompts or asks. I have a vague idea of what I’d want to have happen with him, but everything is welcome. Stay tuned, more prompts on the way!

Ask’s Open! || Prompt’s Open! || Submissions Open!

Original Ask || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 ||

Part 5

|| Part 6 || Part 7 (here)  

Cursed Dean 6

The seconds dragged out as Sam stared down at Dean, unable to say a word. Having trouble even thinking.

The words that the strange little man he’d found in his room resounded in his head, taking root in his mind.

He left and he never came back and I got stuck here!

Not that you’d have any idea how it feels to be left behind by your family!

And of course, he was remembering what motel he was staying at. Trails West; the same motel they’d been staying at when his big brother Dean had died. He saw his brother in his mind’s eye, leaping into the witch’s attack and shoving Sam out of the way.

He saw the attack hit yet again, the air warping around Dean as he vanished. Protecting his baby brother to the last second.

“Holy shit,” Sam whispered in realization. His fingers almost leapt away from that tiny, frail body he’d just grabbed moments ago. His brother. He’d grabbed his brother. “Holy shit… I mean, fuck.”

Sam leaned in close, wanting to see all the features of the small person he was holding captive. “Dean… is it really you?”

Dean shuffled back a few steps, a look of fear briefly overriding his aggravation. Guilt hit Sam at that, realizing after the way he’d grabbed the man and trapped him, he deserved that fear.

Dean didn’t say a thing, but he reached inside the small black t-shirt he was wearing. Hesitantly, he pulled out a small necklace. Sam couldn’t see what it was since it was barely the size of a grain of sand, but his eyes widened in realization as the light glimmered off of a brass amulet.

And then he knew.

It was the amulet he’d given his brother.


Original Ask || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 (here)

Cursed Dean 5

Dean gaped up at the other person at the table with him, unable to reconcile everything that had just happened. Brown hair, familiar hazel eyes, goddamn familiar dimples that appeared while he was stating his name… and Sam.


“Not possible,” he growled up. Ignoring the fact that he was trapped at the table, Dean stalked away from the other man. “Not friggin’ possible, your name cannot be Sam!”

Sam, too surprised by the reaction he’d gotten, didn’t bother grabbing the smaller person back at first. “What are you talking about? It’s just a name, after all.”

Dean whipped around and found himself shouting. “You cannot be Sam because Sam cannot be here and I’m never gonna see him again!” All of the pent up frustration from being trapped for years in a place where he had no escape came pouring out, stabbing straight at the only target he had. “He left and he never came back and I got stuck here!” He jabbed his finger angrily in the direction of the giant. “Not that you’d have any idea how it feels to be left behind by your family!

Dean paced angrily back and forth. “And now I’m stuck here, trapped, and the entire goddamn universe just wants to rub my nose in my shitty-ass life by sending another Sam to grab me and remind me of everything I lost!”

The human was slack-jawed as the small ball of anger stalked back and forth on the table in front of him, trying to wrap his mind around the words that had been spewed forth. He reached a hand forward, pinching one of the small shoulders between a finger and a thumb. Dean froze, his entire body turning stiff at the unexpected contact. There was nothing he could do to stop this stranger.

The human leaned down, his soft hazel eyes drawing Dean’s straight to them. Not possible.

“What’s your name?” asked the human softly. Sam asked softly.

Dean’s fist clenched. “Dean,” he snapped.

Sam’s eyes widened.

Original Ask || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 (here) 

Cursed Dean 4

Dean slammed into the ground, rolling over as fast as he could. The second he could find his feet, he was up and backing away from the huge human staring down at him, awe in those familiar hazel eyes.

“Whoa…” said the other man, amazement just oozing from his voice.

Dean took a few more wary steps back as the human leaned down to see him better. The huge brow furrowed above as his outright fear was noticed.

“It’s okay,” said the other man, his voice a quiet rumble of reassurance. “I’m not gonna hurtcha.”

Dean tensed, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” he spat angrily. “You just grabbed me, after all.”

The other man smirked at that, sending chills up Dean’s spine at the casual disregard for his anger. “I’m not the one that’s out here spying on people,” the man with the hazel eyes pointed out. “All I did was catch the person sneaking around near my room. So don’t go thinking you’re innocent in all of this.”

Dean stiffened at the accusation. He knew it was true, the way humans thought. But he wasn’t a human, not anymore, and he needed to ascertain the danger the massive man posed his family.

That was the last thing he’d ever admit, though. He couldn’t reveal the existence of any others like him, he might put them in danger.

He almost leaped away as a massive hand came at him again, but to his shock, this time it didn’t grab at him. His jacket was lying draped across fingers that were longer than he was tall, held out for him to take back.

He stared up at the man suspiciously, refusing to take the bait and get himself in any more trouble. His hands clenched into angry fists.

The other man sighed. “I really won’t hurt you if you’re not hurting anyone else, y’know. I’m a hunter, but I don’t think someone the length of my pinkie really applies.”

Dean almost snarled at the way he’d been put down as non-threatening, but he held his tongue. He stomped over to the hand, snatching up the black jacket and tossing it back over his arms. He was never self-conscious about his body, but the sight of how thin his carefully trained, muscular body was compared to just a finger was not a sight he wanted to see. With the jacket on – and his knife tucked back against his chest, ready to be wielded if he needed it – he felt more prepared for the situation he’d fallen into.

The other man put his hand on the table once it was empty, keeping it close enough to Dean that any escape attempts would be fruitless until his guard was dropped. Dean knew what hunters were. He was supposed to be one, after all. He needed to be careful how he approached this situation, otherwise he might end up dead as an assumed threat.

The hazel eyes narrowed, scanning Dean head to toe. Dean stiffened at the scrutiny, hating the way he was being sized up.

He didn’t find out what the man thought of what he saw. Any chance he had of focusing on his precarious situation was brought to a screeching halt by the next word’s out of the man’s mouth.

“So, what’s your name? I’m Sam.”

Original Ask || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (here)

Cursed Dean 3

Dean did his best to dive out of the way of the oncoming hand, but it was a useless attempt. Before he could get farther than a foot down the vent, the back of his jacket was snagged between two massive fingers. He squirmed, trying to wrench free even as he was dragged relentlessly back several inches all at once, growing ever closer to the massive human that almost had him in his grasp. Nothing he did could slow down the movement.

Abandoning that strategy, Dean changed tactics. Instead of trying to get free of the fingers, he yanked each arm out of the jacket. He tumbled to the ground in his black tee, scared green eyes sending a brief glance back at the surprised human that was left holding a tiny jacket in his hands.

Scrambling to his feet, Dean ran.

This time, the hand that came from him didn’t waste time pinching his shirt. Massive fingers enveloped him on both sides. Before he could attempt to dodge, they all closed up at once, pinning his arms and legs even as his entire body was concealed inside of a massive fist. Dean tried to kick a leg free, determined to make his captor pay for every inch taken, but found himself too weak to manage it. The human had him trapped with no way of even moving a finger.

Disorientation hit, and he realized that the hand must be sailing through the air. His pulse started to race at the thought that he was flying through the air under a complete stranger’s control, with no way to save himself if that fist was to open up in midair and drop him to the merciless ground below. His desperate squirms froze at that thought, fear filling his body.

He was flying through the air.

His chest hiccupped in a gasp of breath, trying his best not to hyperventilate as he realized how helpless he was. Nothing he could do would come close to stopping the behemoth man that held him trapped. Even his knife, wonderfully cared for after all the years he’d spent at this size, was out of reach in the jacket he’d stripped off.

The time for him to think came to an end as the hand stopped moving. Before Dean could think of a way to stop it, he was tumbling through the air.

Original Ask || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 (here)