December 2nd excerpt:
Logan had no idea what was to come. Uncertainty was unsettling, and nerves only begot more griping. “What are you expecting me to help with? Can’t really do an oil change like this.”
“Trust me, the day I need help doing an oil change is the day I don’t deserve the car,” Dean muttered as he repositioned himself underneath the entrance to the panic room tunnel.
December 1st excerpt:
Dean hesitated when he heard the small voice cut across the quiet morning air.
Logan.
He’d become so tied up in his repairs, he’d forgotten all about the other hunter. A smile quirked at the edge of his lips as a thought occurred to him.
Logan probably wouldn’t like it.
November 30th excerpt:
The entrance to Sam’s panic room remained intact and hidden, and it was Dean’s first place he wanted to check over. It needed to remain secured to the bottom of the underbelly while staying hidden, or it would lose its effectiveness.
Poking a finger in the entrance to make sure it was clear of any obstructions, Dean resolved to bug Sam later on to double check that no animals were roosting within. It would be a quick day’s work to pull off the tunnel and chase any birds or mice into the fields, and take care of any possible spiders.
With a grunt, Dean wiped down the outside of the pipe.
November 29th excerpt:
The next toss, his paper clip sailed upward, higher than Jacob had managed before. A quiet clink accompanied it landing atop the nightstand.
“Ha!” he said triumphantly. Despite his own weariness, he made it. He looked aside at Dean. “Did you see– oh,” he stopped, finally noticing that Dean had fallen asleep right there on the floor.
November 28th excerpt:
Once he had a decent idea of the lay of the land, which changed quite often with Sherlock and John’s eclectic style of organization, Dean’s legs tensed.
Without any warning, he bolted for the entrance to the walls near John’s armchair.
November 14th excerpt:
“So, how do we get this started?”
“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.”
November 9th excerpt:
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.
November 8th excerpt:
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.
November 7th excerpt:
He finally noticed that Sam was tugging at his sleeve. The younger boy was looking up at Dean, his expressive eyes full of worry. “What?” Dean said, his tone sharp with the lingering exhaustion from the night before combined with the stress of waking up with Sam and John both missing from the bedroom.
“There’s bacon,” Sam said simply, pulling Dean’s sleeve in the direction of the food. “John made it. It’s good!” He tugged harder at Dean’s arm. “Please?”
November 6th excerpt:
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.
Brothers Apart 