Tag: shotgun shoulder

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September 4th excerpt:

Sam sheepishly pushed up the pocket flap, his ears red with embarrassment as he started to climb up to Dean’s shoulder, trying his best to make up for hiding from Jacob. It was a good instinct to have, but inconvenient when he wanted to make good impression.

“And I’m Sam!” he chimed in as soon as he reached Dean’s shoulder and saw Dean release Jacob’s hand. He held out his own hand to offer a handshake, continuing to blush fiercely. “We… talked. A few times,” he finished lamely.

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July 11th excerpt:

“You know he doesn’t mind, right?” Sam asked in a hush. “Really. I’ve sat here pretty much every day since I left.”

Walt couldn’t stop his eyes from flickering to Dean’s again. Dean didn’t even twitch at Sam’s words. Maybe he really couldn’t hear them like this.

“It’s just…” Walt kept his voice just as soft as Sam. “You’re used to this. And him. How?”

Sam grinned and couldn’t stop a slight laugh at that. “We make our own normal, Dad. If I can’t ride shotgun like a regular human can, I’ll do it here.”

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September 10th excerpt:

That was how they drove for a while, Jacob manning the wheel while they just… went. There was no destination in mind, and the plans were to stop and check out the papers every few towns to see if there was anything suspicious going on. If not, they’d head back out. If there was, it would be time to grab a room and set up home base.

Dean, for his part, was perched like a hawk on the edge of Jacob’s shoulder with one hand on the collar for balance. He would eagerly point out the exits he wanted Jacob to take, somehow managing to meander their way throughout the state in a somewhat straight line. Sam ignored most of that, relaxing in his own spot.

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May 16th excerpt:

Jacob got into the huge, shining black 1967 Impala parked at the curb, settling onto the bench seat with a sigh. The key was in the ignition before he glanced down at his pocket with a grin. “Back on the road again,” he announced, before turning the key with a roar of the engine.

The flap of the pocket shifted, and Sam was the first one out. Normally, the brothers would already be on Jacob’s shoulder, or hiding in a hoodie to keep out of sight from Mariana. There was no way to know her reaction to finding out that tiny people were real, and with Mike being a cop, the brothers chose to avoid any situations that might result in discovery. He seemed like a nice enough man, but if the police discovered littles, people everywhere could be put in danger.

“Shotgun!” Sam shouted, off like a shot. Dean was left behind in the dust, and Sam used the thick threads of Jacob’s shirt to climb his way over to the right shoulder.

Dean hauled himself up, nowhere near as fast. “Dammit,” he huffed. “That’s my spot.”