“Now,” Dean said pointedly, his grin broadening, “you get the biggest honor of all.”
With a grandiose gesture, Dean waved towards the floor near the agent’s feet. “You get to offer me a lift to the floor so we can get this party started.”
Before he could retreat more than a hair, Sam darted forward with his own hands, landing them on top of John’s fingertip. “Agreed!” he echoed his older brother.
John’s finger nearly flinched in tandem with Dean’s much smaller hand, but he managed to breathe and keep it still, taking Dean’s cue for when to shake his finger up and down ever so slightly.
His eyes widened and his jaw nearly dropped when Sam’s tiny hands joined both of Dean’s.
Struck by a thought, John carefully reached a hand toward the brothers, extending a finger to Dean with an amiable look in his eye. “Shake on it?”
Dean recoiled from the hand, his eyes darting from the extended finger up to John’s expression to read his intent. Spotting nothing but honesty in the planes of John’s face, he hesitantly reached forward.
As his hand approached the waiting finger, Dean’s much smaller fingers brushed against the thick skin and flinched. Reaching forward again, Dean gripped John’s fingertip, finding his entire hand inadequate to cover the entire surface. Using that same determination, Dean reached out with his second hand as well, clasping the rest of John’s fingertip and a bit of his nail, the rigid surface ungiving between Dean’s hands as he shook them up once, then down.
With the map spread out on the seat next to the teenager, Dean could survey their path from above with a bird’s eye view, but there was something about being down, on the map, that always appealed to him. Once he finished off his last bite, he took the initiative to slide down Jacob’s sleeve to join in on the planning.
Letting go of Jacob’s sleeve a few inches from the ground, Dean landed with a thump, rolling to catch his balance and coming out of the roll to land on both feet. The motion was as agile as any cat landing on their feet, graceful for a man of less than four inches. The only thing that ruined the move was a slight stumble as he skid to a stop, the paper unexpectedly wrinkling under his boots from the added weight.
“Lucky I’m such a morning person,” Jacob joked. “We could get on the road for a bit before grabbing some breakfast. Since nowhere will be open yet.” He lowered his hand to the desk for Dean so he could at least get himself ready for the trip.
“And then onwards! To the next hunt!” Dean boasted loudly as he slid off Jacob’s hand.
Jacob’s hand reached for the nightstand, ready to switch off the alarm. Then, his mind finally caught up enough to remember I didn’t set an alarm. He ended up diverting his reach before he could bowl Dean over, resting his fingers at the edge of the nightstand instead. He propped himself up enough to send the tiny guy a bewildered look, catching up to why he was on the nightstand and not right next to his head like he’d thought.
“Dude,” he mumbled, giving Dean as much exasperation as he could. “What the shit.”
Sort of doing these out of order, but I’m determined to do them all
AU: ???
“Stan?”
Simon Baker rapped gently on his youngest brother’s bedroom door. “Suppertime! Get it while it’s hot!”
These days, Simon thought to give Stan whatever space he needed. School had always been a rough time for the kid, even more so now that he was a teenager. Even so, Simon tried to keep spirits light in the hopes of cheering Stan up.
Simon’s brow pinched when there came no answer. Usually, even on the worst days, he’d get a grumble in response at least. Stan would never turn down a meal.
“C’mon Stanley, don’t want it to get cold without you,” he called through the door as he made a move to open it. He went slow, not one to burst in on anyone, and he listened for Stan to correct him.
It wasn’t that he hated being called Stanley, but he did prefer ‘Stan’.
Only when Simon still didn’t hear a peep out of the room did he open it all the way. Now he was concerned.
His frown deepened as he stepped into the room and found it empty. Stan wasn’t in bed, but his schoolbag was still there and the window was securely shut. Simon knew Stan came home earlier, so where did he–?
A light skittering on the floor by his feet interrupted Simon’s thoughts. He looked down; when he didn’t see anything, he took a wary step closer.
In the corner of Simon’s eye, he noticed something quick and tiny dashing into the open. He didn’t get a good look before it took shelter under Stan’s dresser.
Simon sighed and strode over to shut Stan’s door. If his brother brought another mouse in the house, he’d better take care of it before it got into the walls. Then he could resume figuring out where Stan went.
Grabbing one of Stan’s jars and a ventilated lid from the desk, Simon lowered himself to the floor to peer under the dresser. It was too dark to see in any detail, but a small shape hurried to the far side. Simon sat up and reached around to snatch it before it hid under the bed.
In his hurry to get his catch into the jar, Simon didn’t notice that it didn’t quite feel like a mouse in his grasp.
He made sure to tilt the jar so the little thing would slide safely to the bottom. Simon was used to this habit of Stan’s, and he knew it came from a well-meaning place. Their youngest brother was never one to walk away when anyone or anything needed help. Even a lost, injured mouse.
So it was a complete shock to Simon when he lifted the jar to find something that definitely wasn’t a mouse.
1. Discovery – Something amazing happens to Stan Baker.
AU: ???
Trigger Warning: Mentions of bullying and physical/emotional violence
Stan was in a heavy mood when he returned home.
His dragging footsteps were heavy, his bedroom door banged heavily as it shut, his backpack dropping to the floor and the way Stan tossed himself into bed were both almost as heavy as his heart.
At thirteen years old, he’d long since gotten used to bullies. He could hardly recall a time in his educational career that he hadn’t been picked on for one reason or another. He was small for his age, slim as a twig, and his pale complexion and bright hair made him stick out all the more among his peers. It barely mattered that his brothers were teaching him how to defend himself; any muscle he gained from training and fighting seemed too lean to make a visible difference.
Stan heaved a long sigh and buried his face in his pillow, hugging it close.
By the time he’d flipped a few of his bullies and seemed to deter them from coming after him, they all shifted gears. With hormones raging high and everyone hyperfocused on popularity and who liked who, Stan was physically picked on less and instead became the subject of harsh words and rumors that knocked him down the social hierarchy.
The harsh words stung and stuck with Stan and hurt worse than any bruise. They hurt because some of them were true. They swirled around Stan’s head long after he heard them, and they made him feel so small.
Microscopic.
A strange sensation made Stan peel his shining cheek away from his pillow. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was getting bigger.
Stan bolted upright and realized the blanket was expanding beneath him. His heart jumped into his throat and began pounding, and Stan could swear it all started to go faster. He could feel the fabric passing past his hands and even gave himself a quick pinch in the arm amidst his slight panic. It was impossible to deny.
He really was getting smaller and smaller!
He gave a yelp when it all came to a sudden stop, the vertigo knocking him flat on his back. His arms flailed as he righted himself, green eyes wide as he looked around. The ceiling was so far away now, and all at once the room that had so often been his sole safe space became an alien landscape, made up of massive structures and bizarre shapes.
Stan had no idea how long he sat there, awestruck. Before terror and confusion could override, he had to admit that seeing things from a few inches tall was pretty cool.
Brothers Apart 