Sunny California comes with its own fun. Sam stumbles into a good time, Dean tries not to laugh.
For @nightmares06 2018 contest.
I started this fix last year and picked it back up for this year’s contest.
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.
Commission for @theskylarksings!
This one is a request for mouthplay, and I chose to go with the Brothers Forgotten pair (from the 2017 contest)!
Sky gets to decide it it’s canon or not, and I hope you love it!
Word count: 979
Warnings: mouthplay, no vore
Motion caught Sam’s attention out of the corner of his eye, and he sent a flat look towards his older brother. “What the hell is it this time,” he sighed, resigned to Dean’s constant fidgets.
In all fairness, the giant had never learned restraint like Sam had. Growing up in the wilderness, alone and abandoned mistakenly by his family, Dean had made do on his own. He’d survived against all odds, managing to not become the monster he was slated to become by the witch who cursed him.
Changed into a giant, separated from his family, simply assumed that he would lose touch with humanity and go feral.
Instead, years later Sam had stumbled across him while hunting for a giant, who had been hunting for the actual monster in the area, following his own code of morals to help people, even those that condemned him.
Dean froze under Sam’s scrutiny, his pinky in the corner of his mouth worrying something there. He slowly removed it, his ears faintly flushed.
“Just… something in my teeth,” he muttered, turning away from Sam.
“Hey!” Sam didn’t like the look on Dean’s face. More self-conscious than normal. He slid off the hood of the Impala, leaving his laptop open next to his bag and forgetting about both promptly.
Anyone that came out here to steal a laptop out from under a giant’s nose had another thing coming.
“What’s the matter?” Sam put his hands on his hips, briefly feeling like he was occasionally scolding a kid when Dean started acting oddly.
Dean glanced at him, fiddling absently with his hands in his lap. “That’s it,” he protested stubbornly. “Got something stuck in my teeth, can’t get it out.” He flared out his fingers and wiggled them at Sam. “See?”
None of the fingernails were more than nubs, and Sam had a sudden realization that Dean, without access to a lot of quality of life items, likely chewed them short if they got too long. As such, he was left without a nail to help him free– whatever it was.
Sam sighed. I’m going to regret this.
Commission for @torchmlp!
Torch requested a whole new AU where Sam and Dean discover a shocking surprise– Sam’s a sizeshifter!
New Sizeshifter!Sam AU
Word count: 1588
Warnings: Minor character death
Following Dean’s gesture, Sam took the right and Dean went left, both scoping out the downstairs of the house they were in.
This abandoned house was marked on their map as the most likely location of a lone werewolf’s lair. Each missing person in town over the last few months had gone missing within a mile radius, no one remembered anyone coming or going from this house but reports of the lights on at odd hours had come into the police station, and, most important, the missing person’s reports all came in during the full moon.
Commission for theskylarksings on deviantart!
This one is a request to involve the Brothers Forgotten pair (from the 2017 contest) in the Lounge shenanigans! This is a strictly non canon adventure, short drabble sized. Enjoy!
Word Count: 433
This time, the door didn’t come into being in its regular spot.
The room shifted, barely noticed by the many different patrons of the ever-growing Lounge. And now, it was literally growing.
When the shift finished, there was another door, this one placed further from the bar than the others, and off a sheer cliff that the nearby Dean shied away from on his way for a refill.
The door opened, and in strolled the next patron.
Dean ground to a halt, his eyes going wide.
Not for over a decade had he seen a chair his size.
Sam was in his hand, much like the many other Sams of the bar. The main difference between this Sam and the others… he was human sized.
And Dean was a giant.
“You have got to be shitting me!” came one of the voices from the tiny bar placed at around Dean’s chest height.
One of the multiple Dean’s at the bar (the original, the one that came first to the room to meet his teenage self), was standing a few feet back from the edge, his hands on his hips and a supremely annoyed look on his face.
The new entrants to the bar snapped their heads to the side in time when another voice, a much fainter voice cut through the air. The source was a barely visible speck on one of the tables.
“See how you like it, asshat!”
Dean tentatively came forward, holding his hand level with the floor so Sam could step down. He could barely believe his eyes. There was a nearly microscopic version of himself standing there, and Sam spotted a small version of himself nearby.
The regular Dean scowled. “Watch it, shortstop!” he called threateningly to the smallest Dean there. “Or it’ll be time for a pool rematch!”
Over by the arcade, the teenager’s eyes were wide, holding Sam close. “Maybe we should sit this one out,” he said faintly, unable to tear his eyes away from a giant older counterpart. The regular sized one was a handful enough.
Sam patted his thumb. “But we gotta check them out!” he insisted. “I’m normal sized over there!”
And of course there was no way for Dean to say no to his little brother when he got that yearning in his eyes. He swallowed nervously before wandering away from their safe corner, keeping a distance from the edge.
The bartender waved the new pair on. “Drinks on the house boys! We’ve got all sizes here!”
My book from Nightmares06 came in the mail today!
Thanks so much! I’ve been looking forward to reading it for ages. 🙂
My lil Sam an Dean are also digging it!
AU: Brothers Saved
Timeline: Sam is 10, Dean is 14; the day after Dean wakes up for the first time.
“Did Dad show you how to defend yourself?”
Dean stood on the table in the kitchen of Bobby’s house, his arms crossed tight around his chest. He was doing what he could to avoid showing how nervous he was here, surrounded by everything looming overhead.
Including Sam, but the wide look in those hazel eyes was ground for Dean, keeping him focused away from how his little brother had turned into a Godzilla.
‘N-no,” Sam said, fidgeting where he sat.
For a moment, Dean wished their roles were reversed. It was fleeting, because he’d never want his little brother in harm’s way, and having Sam full sized and uncursed meant Dean had done his job right, but it also meant that Sam was the one who would need to protect them if anything happened.
“Dad was too busy when they left,” Sam told him. “He told me to keep the house shut tight and Bobby said go to the basement if anything bad happens, and keep you with me. Bobby gave me this.”
From his jacket, Sam pulled out a gun. Dean stiffened, more from the sight of Sam holding a gun than from the size of it. His little brother knew how to shoot, but having Sam carry around a concealed weapon…
It just felt wrong.
For so long Dean had tried to protect Sam from this lifestyle, and now it had risen up to consume them both in return.
Sam put the gun down on the table not far from Dean, and the surface shuddered under his boots. Instinctively, Dean ducked against the side of the nearby soda can, his small hands soaked instantly in condensation.
He was not going to get used to that.
Sam drew away, worry dancing in his eyes for Dean’s skittish reaction. Dean chose to pretend it never happened, strolling casually over to the gun.
Bobby kept all his weapons in good repair, and this one was no different. The cool metal gleamed at Dean as he reached into his own jacket, pulling out his trusty colt. The gun had been cursed with him, though he would never be able to restock the bullets inside or repair it. Eventually, there would be no way for Dean to use it and it would become nothing more than a curiosity.
Like me, shot an annoyed voice at Dean in his mind that he had to shrug off.
Dean held up his colt to the big one, comparing the sheer scale difference. It was a long moment before he tucked his away, always so fascinated, once he was past the shock, at how strange everything seemed after the curse took effect.
Turning sharply on his heel, Dean regarded Sam sternly, almost making the younger boy jolt to attention. “Shooting guns is one thing,” he said, “but you need to know how to defend yourself when you don’t have a gun, or if you lost it. Once Dad gets back, you need to ask him for some hand to hand combat lessons.”
Sam stuck a lip out. “But I don’t want to learn from Dad!” he complained. “He’s always so bossy, and he never listens.”
Dean certainly didn’t have any defenses against Sam when those big warm hazels were turned around on him. “Can’t you teach me?”
For a long moment, Dean stood there with a look of shock on his face. Normally, training Sam himself would be the first thing he thought of, but now… Sam could pluck him up between two fingers. How could he possibly teach combat?
“S-Sam,” Dean started uncertainly, “I don’t think that’s going to work. I mean, you’re–” he gestured up at Sam and how he looked overhead even sitting down, “and I’m –” Dean stepped back to the soda can, cutting a hand across the condensation to display how he would never reach the top.
“So?” Sam blurted, then covered his mouth when the volume made Dean flinch. “S-sorry…” He hunkered his shoulders. “I just– you’re really good at teaching. If you just show me what to do… I learn fast, honest!”
Dean’s eyes softened. Despite his protests, there was something warm and good inside his chest to hear that Sam still wanted him as a teacher.
“Sure, Sammy. Whatever you want.”
Hours later, they could be found just like that. Dean standing on the table, showing off a combat move as best he could without someone to practice on, and Sam mimicking him.
Dean was proud to say that Sam was just as quick of a learner as he’d promised.
These story parts might go in no particular order, so there’s a chance you’ll see things from the night before later on. I’m just writing as they come to me.
AU: Brothers Saved
Timeline: Sam is 10, Dean is 14; occurs directly after Brothers Saved 2
The food finished quickly, and Sam once again found himself stretching to reach one of the pot holders Bobby kept by the sink. Dean stepped back on the table, closer to the center as Sam moved about the room, still adjusting to the sight of a giant like that.
“Ha!” Sam finally snagged the pot holder, snatching it from the wall. “Stupid thing.”
He was going to need to either grow a few inches or invest in a stool to reach stuff around the kitchen.
“You show ‘em, Sammy!”
With Dean cheering him on, Sam flushed red at the praise as he got a solid hold on the pot of boiling water, tipping it into a colander that was sitting in the sink, waiting for the hot dogs.
Five minutes later, Sam made it back over to the table in triumph with two plates and a bottle of ketchup. The first meal he’d done by himself.
Dean stepped over to the plate with one hotdog at the same time as Sam realized he’d forgotten one thing.
How was Dean going to eat a hotdog that was twice as tall as he was?
Dean was one step ahead of him. “Awesome!” he said, sitting on the lip of the plate and spearing the thick meat with a knife. “Mind giving me some ketchup?”
Sam obediently poured out a dollop of ketchup a few inches away from Dean, watching as his older brother sliced into the hotdog and quickly portioned it into pieces that Sam could barely see.
Sam was riveted watching Dean move. Such tiny, delicate movements that he’d miss if he looked away.
As such, it wasn’t until Dean had begun eating that Sam started on his own, using his fork to cut pieces off. There were no hotdog buns in the house. Or lettuce or tomato. Bobby didn’t exactly carry ‘high class’ meals, but it would do for what they needed.
When Sam took his first bite, Dean stiffened and angled himself so he wasn’t looking directly at his brother. Sam froze, realizing that the piece of hotdog he’d just eaten was the size of Dean’s torso, and his older brother was barely bite-size.
“You know you’re safe, right?” Sam asked, breaking his promise to himself to not poke at Dean’s pride. It was important for him to hear that from Dean. It was everything.
Dean glared, then looked away quickly again. “I know, alright?” he said in annoyance. “I just… This entire thing’s friggin’ weird, give me some time!”
Sam slouched. “Okay.”
Dean huffed. “It’s not you, so don’t go acting down on me!” he insisted. “I’m just… not used to anything like this.” He stuffed a bite of meat in his mouth. “See?” he asked past the hotdog.
Sam had to muffle a snicker into the back of his hand at that. “Whatever you say, jackass.”
Dean pointed his knife at Sam. “Better watch your mouth, bitch.”
Sam rolled his eyes and instinctively ruffled Dean’s hair. The spike bounced instantly back into place. “Jerk!”
More coming tomorrow!
AU: Brothers Saved
Timeline: Sam is 10, Dean is 14; occurs directly after Brothers Saved 2
The kitchen was only a few steps away now, and Sam quickly nudged the door with his boot, flipping on the light with an elbow so he didn’t have to open his hand up again.
“Made it,” Sam announced as he uncurled his hands and moved them to the table. Dean stumbled to his feet and dropped to his knees as soon as solid ground was under him, pretending to kiss the ground.
Sam rolled his eyes at the dramatics. “It wasn’t that bad!” he protested as he stood on his tiptoes to reach the hot dogs in the freezer.
“Says you!” Dean argued back, going to his feet again and pacing around the area. His old curiosity shone through as he investigated books that could be buildings and pushed around a pen that was three times his height.
Sam watched from a distance as he filled a pot with water, dumping three of the hot dogs into it and putting it on the burner like he’d watched Dean do before. Everything he did these days felt like he was mimicking Dean, trying to fill his brother’s shoes.
Dean sat down with a huff on one of the books. “At least the ground doesn’t move,” he said, rubbing his head.
“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” Sam asked worriedly.
Dean glanced up, the bridge of his nose pinched between two fingers. “Nah. Even the bed was getting old. Can’t stand without it trying to toss me to my knees.” He stomped his boot on the wood grain. “This is much better.”
Sam grinned, heartened to hear it wasn’t just him. “That’s good. The hot dogs’ll be done soon. Oh!”
Dean looked up at the sudden increase in volume.
“I almost forgot,” Sam said apologetically. He reached into his pocket. “This shrank with you but it fell out of your hands.”
He held his hand out to Dean, and Dean was drawn to his feet without thought. Sitting in the center of Sam’s palm, almost lost in a crease in the skin, was Dean’s colt. The gun entrusted to him by John, used to protect Sammy.
Dean didn’t even think about the size of Sam’s hand as he leaned a hand against the thick skin and reached over. The metal was warmed from its protracted time against Sam’s warmth, but the familiarity of that metal, the touch of the etchings under his fingers, it all felt right to Dean.
“I thought I’d lost this,” Dean said wonderingly, shifting it to catch the light. Reverently, he sat down and started taking it apart, practiced movements as he checked to make sure everything was in working order.
“I’ve got some extra ammo in my jacket,” Dean mused to himself as he snapped the barrel back on and sighted along his arm, taking care to never aim it at Sam. Small or not, the gun could still do damage. “Maybe enough to last until we figure this out and get me normal.”
Sam smiled, sadness in his eyes as he remembered each time John or Bobby had checked in. Unsuccessfully.
“Yeah, Dean. Normal in no time.”
More coming tomorrow!