November 21st excerpt:

“He’s afraid of heights!” Sam chimed in, one boot propped against the edge of the shelf while he leaned backwards to test his weight on his hook before climbing.

“Dude, I am not afraid of heights!” Dean protested, bringing himself around enough to push himself up. His hand didn’t make a dent in John’s skin, and his fingers were small enough to fit between the imprints that made it unique. “Just… flying.” He shuddered at the memory of their one fateful trip on an airplane. The turbulence that struck was like an earthquake to the brothers at their size, and all the cushioning in the world couldn’t make it bearable for them. “There’s a difference!”

November 20th excerpt:

Long fingers that outsized Dean closed in around the young man, sealing him off from Sam. It happened too fast for him to react, and then he felt the thick, leathery skin bump against his back, sweeping him up into a light, casual grasp that left Dean’s stomach somewhere behind him. The world moved around him fast enough for his vertigo to hit with a vengeance, making his face start to turn green.

November 19th excerpt:

Dean’s fingers encircled Sam, surrounding him on all sides. There was a pinch around Sam’s waist as Dean carefully tightened his grip, then he started to pull upwards.

For a moment, Sam didn’t think it was going to work. Or, if it did, it would only work after Dean had to apply too much pressure.

Then, his feet slid out of his boots, and he found himself dangling in midair with only socks on. Sam gave Dean a flat glare when he saw the hunter snicker at him.

“Dude!” Sam complained, kicking a foot towards the shit-eating grin on Dean’s face.

November 18th excerpt:

Beyond perplexed, Sam finally brought himself to look at the others on the table with him, a tough effort with two humans only inches away that looked like flies caught in the biggest strip of flypaper ever. He had no idea how he, a four-inch tall man who was caught fast in a trap, was supposed to get Dean out, but he had to try.

November 17th excerpt:

The bar was quiet in the early hours of the evening. A few scattered tables held patrons, from the worn and weary older men that hunched over their drinks like they were birds protecting their young to a baby-faced kid getting carded at the bar, it was a familiar scene for Dean as he swaggered confidently over the threshold. His cocky attitude fit his leather jacket, and his hard green eyes made it easy to blend right in.

Once, a lifetime ago, this would have felt like home. Before that fateful day.

Before Sam.

November 16th excerpt:

The group was silent as they climbed down from the nightstand one after the other. Sam’s hook was the one that was lodged into the top, the sturdiest hook in the motel. Dean had once suggested replacing it now that Sam had access to more supplies than he could ever dream of back when he’d lived at Trails West, but nothing they found could equal the three prongs. It was sturdy, it was versatile, and it was lightweight enough for Sam to haul it around day in and day out, dangling from his satchel. If he was to come up against an enemy one-on-one with nothing more than his hook on hand, he would be a force to be reckoned with. That hook was nasty.

Sam was the only one able to wield it so easily. Lightweight to him was hefty to Walt, and tossing it up several feet in the air took effort. All in all, the perfect tool for Sam Winchester.

image

November 15th excerpt:

Before Dean had a chance to stride forward and close the distance to the nightstand, the flap on his chest pocket moved, and then Sam poked his head out. If they didn’t know he was there, he would be mistaken for an errant fold in the fabric. Even spotting his head and shoulders peeking over the edge did nothing to ruin that impression.

Sam waved at the others as Dean turned in place and walked over. Neither brother seemed to find it particularly odd to both be doing something completely different, but Walt knew that was just who they were. They worked together seamlessly as a team, no matter how disparate their sizes were.

Better together than apart.

November 14th excerpt:

Before she could move a muscle, the gigantic hunter out in the reception hall glanced up at the vent. Those green eyes locked onto Krissy and the blood in her veins turned to ice. Recognition appeared in those eyes as she ducked down, shaking. Walt had once called it a ‘phobia,’ but it didn’t matter what they called it. Krissy was terrified of humans.

How?! her mind demanded. How does he know I’m here?! 

November 13th excerpt:

The banter continued for a moment as Sam woke up until a sharp retort from Dean cut it off. “No, the phone is not going on the shelf with you. I’m not sticking my head under the nightstand for an entire phone call. Now c’mon.”

November 12th excerpt:

“Dean? It’s Walt.”

Dean’s voice cut out mid-complaint, quieting to listen to the soft voice that was trying to talk over his. Walt was thankful for that. He’d worried that the hunter would drown him out without even noticing his attempt. That would make for an awkward phone call. Trying to shout down a human wouldn’t go far considering how much louder his voice was naturally.

Walt? ” The word was noticeably warmer than the complaints from before as the lazy drawl curled around it. “I’d say it’s good to hear from ya, but I have a feeling it’s really not.