Sneak Peek

Since the story name was guessed while the excerpts were still posting, here’s a special sneak peek of Far From Home!


The car came to a halt, and the engine cut out. High heels clicked their way around the car, and once more the door opened. This time, there were two voices instead of just the one.

“What were you thinking? The ritual has to be tonight. We can’t risk it just because you got nervous, Cee.”

The next person to talk had the voice of the secretary that had helped Dean. “I was thinking that this is a hunter, and we can’t risk having him on the loose.” Unlike earlier on in the day when she’d fawned over Dean, her voice was confident and assured. “Or did you forget the last hunter that happened to come across our coven, Dee?”

Dean’s body shifted, and then was lifted up by the two women. The cadence of walking was much different, and Jacob found himself lying on top of Dean like they were watching TV in the motel room, swinging from side to side.

“Besides,” Cee’s voice went on, “three blood sacrifices are needed for the blood moon, right? This is kismet, not bad luck. Unlike the children, no one’s going to miss one little hunter, all on his own.”

Then Dean was dropped to the ground and propped up, and the faint rustling sound of a rope being tied was all that could be heard as the man was secured.

Jacob kept a hand over his mouth while the two women worked. Part of him knew there was no way they’d hear his rapid breathing or pounding heart, and yet every second he worried he’d see a hand diving into the pocket after him with well-manicured nails ready to snatch him up. Thankfully, the hand never came, and he was left in the pocket as the final knot was pulled tight.

He heard a weak whimper from close to Dean, and his heart fluttered. It sounded like another woman, this one much younger than the others. Missing kids, the distracted thought flashed across Jacob’s mind to join the flurry of his other thoughts. Footsteps faded away with talk of more preparations for the sacrifice, but Jacob’s attention turned inward.

Blood moon. Sacrifice. Kismet? They had arrived in the nick of time. 

The only problem was Dean was captured, and most of his weapons waited back at the motel.

June 11th excerpt: 

Jacob sighed and shrugged before reaching out to push Dean’s hand. “Sure, running towards the monsters. Sign me up.”

“Hey, as long as I’m running towards the monsters, it means they ain’t about to chase after me,” Dean shot easily back, smirking at the featherlight feeling of an amazingly small hand trying to push against his. On his own, Jacob would never be able to move the hand, but Dean played along and moved it away. Before getting out of reach, though, he curled his hand and playfully messed up Jacob’s hair. He couldn’t pass up a prime opportunity like that to mess with the kid.

Brothers Saved: Fighting Lessons

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.

Asks and prompts open for this AU!  

Brothers Saved: A Midnight Snack (4 of 4)

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!”


Asks and prompts open for this AU!  

More coming tomorrow!

Brothers Saved: A Midnight Snack (3 of 4)

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.”


Asks and prompts open for this AU!  

More coming tomorrow!

Brothers Saved: A Midnight Snack (2 of 4)

AU: Brothers Saved

Timeline: Sam is 10, Dean is 14; occurs directly after Brothers Saved 2


Dean’s shoulder felt thin under Sam’s touch, but the fabric of his shirt was soft, and after a moment Dean leaned into it. With Dean staring in the opposite direction and Sam keeping his touch light, they could pretend things were normal.

Dean sighed, then slumped. “Fine,” he muttered, so quiet Sam had to strain to hear. Sam’s face split into a grin as Dean turned to him. “You can carry me.”

Before Sam could move to reach for him again, Dean jabbed out a hand, freezing him in place. “But!” he barked. “No sudden moves, no grabbing, and if I want off the Sam-coaster, you put me down! Capiche?”

Sam nodded. For this, he’d agree to anything. “Got it.”

Taking his fingertip off Dean’s shoulder, Sam flattened his hand on the bedcover next to Dean. “This work?” he asked hopefully.

Dean stared down at the hand. Looked at the fingers that could curl around his entire body, saw the twitch of the palm as Sam’s pulse throbbed beneath the surface. “Perfect,” he said to reassure Sam, though inside he was full of trepidation.

There was nothing left to it but to get in Sam’s hand, and Dean knew it. Bracing himself, he stepped up onto the soft surface, nearly faceplanting as the skin moved under his boot. Sam’s fingers twitched, and Dean glared at him.

“Sorry!” Sam said. “It… tickles.” He blushed bright red.

Dean huffed in annoyance without a comeback. “Whatever.” He walked to the center of Sam’s hand and quickly sat down. “Just get it over with.”

That was the end of Dean’s control over the situation, and he knew it. Sam’s fingers curled up, keeping his older brother in a bowl of flesh as he pushed himself to his feet. Dean clung to the thumb near him as the ground plummeted away, his face green at the thought of the heights.

Seeing this, Sam gently curled the thumb Dean was clinging to and covered Dean’s lap, making it into a makeshift seatbelt. Beneath Sam’s touch, those tiny legs shifted as Dean got into a better position, tugging the thumb tighter around his waist.

Sam had to hide a smile, recognizing the unthinking trust Dean had for him. It was enough.

Before he took a step, Sam also brought his second hand up to guard the edge for Dean, holding that hand against his chest. It gave the smaller Winchester a secure place to sit, especially as Sam went to take a step.

Dean’s tiny body wavered as Sam’s boot hit the ground, hugging the thumb around his waist tighter. Sam knew better than to tease him for that, realizing Dean was actually afraid of what they were doing. If this didn’t go well, Dean might refuse Sam’s help the next time they needed to change room, and Sam dreaded Dean’s reaction to someone else’s hands. Their dad was their dad, but John could be heavy-handed with Dean’s training.

“Heavy-handed" took on a whole new meaning with Dean now, and Sam was determined to shield him from what he could.

Sam carefully pushed open the door to the room, only taking his guarding hand for a moment to do so. Dean shrank against his stomach, and Sam bit his tongue to keep from saying a word and possibly bruising Dean’s pride by pointing it out.

Another step.

Once they were over the threshold, it felt like it got easier with each step Sam took. He flicked on the light over the stairwell, then found himself wondering which would be worse for Dean– seeing where they were going and when Sam would start descending but also possibly spotting the height of the stairwell, or not seeing anything and not knowing when Sam was going down the stairs, but also guarded from the sight of the drop.

Either way, Sam didn’t want to risk tripping on his way down, so the light stayed on.

The trip down went swiftly, and Sam made sure to not draw it out even when he felt Dean shrink down around his thumb.

“Almost there,” Sam murmured reassuringly as they reached the ground floor, and his mouth twitched into a smile as Dean predictably punched his fingernail.

“I’m fine! Never better!” Dean protested his reassurance, but a bit of relief lurked in those defensive words.


Asks and prompts open for this AU!  

More coming tomorrow!