Tag: spn

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Every step Dean took closer to the table, Jacob felt like his heart beat a little harder. He was frozen to the spot, his hands planted against the glass and his eyes staring straight upwards. He shook at the sight of how imposing Dean was, looming over the table like he did. Jacob almost couldn’t see him past the edge of the bible. It was like Dean was directly above, casting his enormous, oppressive shadow on purpose.

Jacob was useless to do anything. Sam was vulnerable out there. His knife wouldn’t really stop Dean. It might slow him down a little bit, but that was all. At best, they’d have an annoyed giant on their case, and who knew how he’d react to that? Jacob suspected the only reason he was still alive was because he hadn’t done anything to make the hunter think he was hurting anyone.

What would happen if Sam managed to score a good cut with that knife? How quickly might Dean’s mind change? Jacob’s hands shook and he punched once at the glass again, furious and terrified that he’d gotten Sam into this situation.

Trapped, unable to defend himself, while a giant stared down at him.

“You have to run! Y-you gotta at least try! Sam, get out of here before he grabs you!” Jacob insisted, staring at the back of his brother’s head. Willing him to leave, to try to save himself.

Dean’s mind checked out halfway through the desperate, shouted words. Sam.

Sam.

Artwork by @mogadeer!

Calling John Bonham (2 of 5)

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A short story of Brothers Apart

Bowman returned ten minutes later, flying far less gracefully than when he’d left. Jacob raised his eyebrows at the sight; Bowman was indeed carrying something in his arms, something almost as long as his tiny body was tall. Jacob realized with a smile that it was a business card. “No shit,” he said as Bowman closed the distance between them.

“Ha! Now you gotta believe me, Dean said the numbers on it can be used to call him,” Bowman announced smugly, right before letting the card fall. Jacob had to fumble to catch it before it fluttered to the ground. He lifted it up, privately eager to see some confirmation of what Bowman told him.

“Bowman …” Jacob said, reading the card.

“What now?! I got you proof and everything!” Bowman complained, taking a perch on top of Jacob’s head while they both stared at the name and phone number on the card.

“The name on it is ‘John Bonham,’ Bowman.”

“What?! But his name is Dean! Dean … Winchester!” Bowman protested, punctuating it with a small whap from one of his wings on Jacob’s head.

Jacob thought for a moment. It wasn’t likely that Bowman would have made up a name like ‘Winchester’ on his own. “Hey, I’ll still give the number a try, how about that?” Jacob dug his phone from his pocket, his eyes pointed upward even though he couldn’t see the sprite perched on him. “What do you say?”

The motel room was a peaceful sight in the morning after the Winchesters latest successful hunt. Slits of sunlight made it through the curtains Dean had drawn across the massive windows that bordered the front of their room, covered up so it would be safe for Sam to be out and about in the room if he wanted to be, and they wouldn’t have to worry about him being spotted by any curious onlookers, innocent or dangerous.

They’d had enough problems with dangerous humans in the past. No one wanted a repeat of Sam’s kidnapping.

Dean was lying flat on his back, slow breaths making his chest rise and fall with a steady rhythm. After so long spent with Sam, and having his pocket used as a bed when Sam needed a place to stay, it was habit to lie like that. The small hunter never asked, but Dean made sure he didn’t have to. Sam shouldn’t have to ask for somewhere safe to sleep.

Sam himself slept on his own bed, under the nightstand that stood between the two queen beds that made up their room. Dean had set it up when they got in, and until late the night before it was all but forgotten. A successful vengeful spirit hunt combined with a night of celebratory drinking resulted in neither brother hitting the sack until at least 2 am.

So the phone going off around 11 am found a room full of sleeping Winchesters.

Dean groaned, rubbing a hand down his face and blinking rapidly to clear up his vision. Normally he wouldn’t have such a hard time waking, as used to being constantly on guard as he was, but their night of celebrating had gone on longer than he expected, both brothers feeling the release of stress after such a simple in- and out- case finished.

He glanced to the side, sleepily groping on the nightstand table to grab his phone. It took a time or two, and he squinted as the number scrolled across the screen. He didn’t recognize it.

This might normally be the point where Dean would answer the phone and demand to know who was calling and how did they get his number, but his urge to growl at the caller was thoroughly thwarted by one simple fact.

He didn’t know how to unlock the new phone.

The damn thing was a smartphone, one of the first around. Sam was hyped up with excitement over having a phone that could connect to the internet without ever having to go on the computer. They could get directions, just like a GPS, and never have to open a map to find their way to the next town over. Sam would have a much easier time navigating maps on a phone a little bigger than he was compared to the mass of paper maps that could cover the entire back seat of the Impala.

Dean was still learning how to use the phone, and the friggin’ password wasn’t words or numbers like normal, but rather a design on the touchscreen that he had to swipe his fingers across and he didn’t have time for this shit.

As the phone reached the third ring, Dean swung his legs out of bed and knelt on the floor. Sam had programmed the damn thing, he could figure out how to answer it.

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September 13th excerpt:

Dean found himself glancing around the diner, going so far as to lean around the menu so he could see the full layout of the restaurant. It was his first time in one since being cursed, and there was a huge change from what he remembered in his childhood.

Simple tables and chairs had transformed to looming structures he or Sam would have to scale up to reach. The faint murmur of voices was louder, and if there were more people around could change to a thunderous roar. Footsteps became earthquakes, and Dean glanced down at the scuffed table under his boots, knowing he would notice anyone walking around that way instantly. The problem was, people meandered back and forth from their tables to the bathroom and to the kitchen, so it was hard to know if people were coming their way.

That didn’t stop Dean from being enamored of the diner, glad to finally revisit another part of his childhood he’d missed for years. Because of this, Sam ended up physically dragging him over to the laptop and breaking his trance.

“What’s the big idea?” Dean griped, tugging his arm free.

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August 21st excerpt:

With one hand over the bruise forming on the back of his head and the other desperately trying to get a grasp on the wall of the cage, Logan finally snapped. “Will you quite shaking this damn thing around so much?! Jesus Christ you’re worse than the fucking city bus.”

Dean glanced down at the cage, and couldn’t help a smirk. “Hear that, Sammy? He thinks I’m worse than the bus.”

Sam shifted on his shoulder, rubbing his eyes. After all the excitement, neither of them had got much sleep that day. “Guess he’s never tried being stuck in your jeans pocket,” he grumbled tiredly. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a worse ride than that, and I’ve been through a lot.”

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August 17th excerpt:

Logan paused, waiting for Dean to notice that he’d escaped the enclosure. Hearing no bellows of surprise, the shrunken hunter crept towards the edge of Dean’s lap, peering over the side into the grass. Overhead, he heard Bowman say excitedly, “I see him, he’s coming this way!” Logan scowled, thinking that the last thing he wanted was to see that damn kid at this new scale. Using the edge of Dean’s pocket as an initial handhold, Logan slipped over the side to climb down before anyone noticed. At least Jacob might offer a distraction.

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No worries about spoilers over here! In fact, out of all three of the curse victims we have in our AUs (Dean, Sam and Jacob), Jacob is the slowest.

Compared to the brothers, he has the least experience. He also tends to be more deliberate in his actions, and is the least likely to jump into things without thinking (or looking). He won’t be breaking any of Sam’s records for a long, long time.

Here’s an excerpt with our smol Jacob trying to keep up with his adopted brother Sammy!

When Sam darted towards the table, Jacob was quick to follow. As he ran he took his grappling rope from where he’d propped it on his shoulder and got a solid grip around the hook so it didn’t bounce against him as he ran. He felt his pulse pounding in his hands. The open air yawned above them, but Jacob managed not to gape around at everything as he ran.

Focus. Focus was key.

He stumbled to a stop at the base of the table. Staring straight up, Jacob uncoiled the twine in his hands. He knew without looking that Sam was doing the same with his own grappling line, a fishhook and some clear, sturdy fishing line. Jacob reared back, ready to throw his hook straight into the air, following the example Sam and Walt had set time and time again. At least this was something Jacob had figured out how to do fairly quickly; ever since shrinking, he’d found he was a lot stronger than he’d expect, and throwing something like a small hook up to the table was easy for him.

Of course, getting the hook that high was only half the battle. While Sam’s grappling hook caught on the edge of the table, Jacob’s bounced off it and fell back down. “Fuckdammit,” he swore, gathering up the twine to try again.

Sam was already well ahead of him. Thankfully, the hook caught on the second throw, and Jacob could begin his cautious climb upwards. He was more careful, less sure of himself, so he took more time to squirrel his way up to the table. Jacob always kept his focus on the rope in front of him, praying his grip never wavered.

Sam reached the top of the table in no time, hauling himself over the edge. He did a brief check of how secure the grip of his and Jacob’s hooks were, making sure that Jacob’s wouldn’t slip on him. They’d leave the hooks at the ready for the trip down, or for any emergencies. It was a bad idea to remove their only escape path. Climbing down the legs of the table with nothing more than hands and feet was a dangerous and slow venture, not one to risk if it could be avoided.

He waited by the edge while Jacob made his way to the top, surveying the room from above. Getting such a point of view was rare, and was something that needed to be taken advantage of when possible.

When Jacob reached the top, Sam offered him a hand to help him over the edge. He eyed the immense door at the other end of the room while he did so, narrowing his eyes at the serene sunlight that filtered its way into the room.

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Just to let everyone know, we’ve certainly never forgotten about the young canon Winchester bros + kiddo Oscar! From time to time we throw story ideas around and this is one of our favorite ones so far! Once we get enough ideas going, I’m sure it’ll become a full-fledged story like so many before it :3

Tiny Oscar and young Sam Winchester are too much cute to contain! Dean will have to keep a stern eye on this pair, if only to keep Sam from feeding Oscar candy constantly.

Oscar the OC © @neonthewrite

Wonderful artwork commissioned from GTPanda! Give them all the love for their amazing skills!

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July 4th excerpt:

Nothing had stirred since Jacob started watching, and he need to help keep his only friends in the world right now from harm. Even if it meant directly going against what they’d told him to do.

They’ll thank me later. Maybe.

Jacob stooped down to scoop each brother onto a hand and off the ground.

He looked over Sam and Dean in his hands hastily, before glancing up at the farmhouse again. There was no time. “Sorry, guys…” His hands were shoved carefully into his hoodie pocket to let the pair slide off his palms. They’d be safe in there for a short trip, and he needed his hands free.