For the type of dog Rumsfeld is, I went by what the Supernatural Wiki dubbed him because I am no expert on dogs and he was only on screen for a few seconds. So the Rumsfeld in my story is a Rottweiler.
Tag: supernatural
I’m here!
Just wanted to let y’all know, I’m still here. I got back from the convention on Monday, and had a wonderful time. I’ve been working on a few extensive side projects that I have slated for next year, and recovering from the convention. Oh, and watching all of season 10 to prepare for the premier of season 11 next week.
In that thought, I’m reopening asks, but not prompts. I currently have many prompts saved up, but only a little time to work on them. So, any prompts that are received until they are officially reopened, will be ignored. Thanks for everyone’s support!
Omg. You have no idea how happy I was that they liked the idea of “Honey we shrunk the Impala.”
Fun fact is I had no idea what Jensen was doing. Jared got the tiny Impala and was having so much fun with it so I didn’t even realize the other Impala was in front of me. So glad they both had fun with it, now that I can see Jensen.
And I’m all omg I can’t believe I’m here *fangirls*
Oh, Dean knows the first thing that’ll happen is Walt will lecture them until their ears fall off. Another part that would hold Dean back is Sean is very nervous and shy around him. A big human lecturing the teeny kid might make him scared, and that’s the last thing that Dean would ever want to do. Plus, Dean’s become good at not moving at night out of habit for when Sam’s hanging out in a pocket, so they weren’t in any danger.
Sam cautiously pushed open the door of his room, glancing around the dark interior before stepping in. It closed behind him with a click as he padded over to the light switch, trying to soften his footsteps as he went.
“Dean?” he called out as he snapped on the light, peering around every corner he could see. “You here?”
When no answer came, he carried his bags over to the table, piling them on the surface. He started to go through them, pulling out his lunch and a white container from the local quickee shop.
“Y’know, you need to work on your sneaking skills,” came a teasing voice from down on the ground.
Surprised, Sam pulled his feet off the floor, searching for the small figure. Dean was standing down next to the leg of the bed.
“I’m not trying to sneak around in my own room!” Sam shot back, watching wide-eyed as his tiny big brother darted out into the open, heading for the table. Watching Dean toss his small hook at the table, catching it on the edge of one of the bags Sam had placed there moments ago, was mesmerizing. He was so small, but he didn’t seem to have an issue getting around at all.
It was only a moment before Dean managed to scramble to the top, sauntering with a casual bow-legged walk across the wooden surface. Boots barely the size of Sam’s fingertip scuffed against the grain. “What if there was someone in here waiting for you?” Dean pointed out as he stopped, putting his hands casually in the back pockets of his jeans.
Sam had to hold back the questions he had shaking around in his head. Where did Dean get his clothes from? How’d he survive? Did he live nearby?
And the hardest question of all, one that Sam had no right to ask.
Would Dean consider leaving the motel?
For now, he simply picked up the white container. “If there’s anyone in here, I figure you’d warn me,” he stated dryly.
Dean frowned, then nodded sharply. Sam smirked. They both remembered the old days where Dean had always watched out for him. It didn’t seem like anything had changed there.
Dean took a step towards the box, then warily eyed the huge hands around it. “What’s that?” he asked.
A flicker of hurt hit Sam at the clear suspicion and distrust, but considering just a day ago he’d grabbed Dean in a fist, he couldn’t blame his brother for it. Hopefully he’d be able to get past that roadblock.
Sam mentally shrugged it off as he opened the container. “I figured I owe you… for yesterday and… leaving you here, all that time ago.” He sighed, shoulders slumping down at the memories. “I can’t really make up for that,” he mumbled, “but I figured I could at least start.”
A light touch on his hand drew his attention away from the past. Dean was standing there, right next to the hands he was so wary around. “Sammy, that wasn’t your fault,” he said in a gruff voice that was deeper than he’d ever expected from someone so small. “We can’t change the past. You were never to blame in any of this.”
Sam blew his hair out of his eyes with a sigh. “Right.” He did his best to believe what Dean had said…
But still.
If he’d never left, Dean wouldn’t be afraid of him. His big brother wouldn’t be leery just standing near his hands. He could have taken care of his big brother the way family was supposed to.
Sam unfolded his hands from the box. “I hope your favorite’s still pie,” he said, letting himself smile again. “I know you used to love apple.”
Dean’s eyes were huge at the sight. A fresh slice of apple pie sat there, bigger than he was. “Holy shit…” he breathed. He took a step towards it, then hesitated. He craned his neck over his shoulder. “You got this… for me?” he asked in disbelief.
Sam’s grin covered his face. “Who else?” he asked back. “It’s all yours. I even have my own snack right over here.” He pulled out a wrap, taking off the aluminum foil to reveal his sandwich. “Take your time.”
Dean relaxed a little more, some of the tension that lingered from the other day dropping away. He walked up, putting a hand on the crumbling crust and breaking off a piece to stare at it for a moment. In complete disbelief that it was there, waiting for him. “Thanks, Sammy.”
Spritely Facts:
Nixie’s affliction is caused by a dissonance in her mind. On one side, she is forbidden to do anything to stop Ilyana, or any other sprite. Technically, this stands for them as well, they cannot interfere with anything Nixie does. Because Ilyana was already on earth, working towards her own ends, this makes her purpose come first, or ‘primary.’ The bond with Sam was all that prevented Nixie from turning on both boys like the rest of the fire sprites. Surrendering to it – so completely that even her mind was lost to the bond – was all that kept her magic from dissipating.
They may be sprites in name, but a more fitting description would be to call them elementals. Their power was too much to have on the earth, so each of the four were sequestered to Aeternum upon their creation, to wait for when they were needed by either the gods or any mortals to discover their summoning. They do have the ability to leave Aeternum on their own via the portal used in the first story, they simply don’t see any reason to. Probably for the best for all involved, as passions can run high when the different sisters encounter each other.
Another reason they are technically forbidden to interfere with each other… can you imagine the power of a sister squabble if she has the power of a tidal wave or an earthquake at her beck and call? Humans call a fight like that a cat fight, Aeternum sprites call them Armageddon.
One last important note: Aeternum sprites are all female, and call each other ‘sisters,’ regardless of element. They are also asexual, by and large with a few exceptions, and have no desire to seek out intimacy the way humans are drawn to each other. This does not, however, prevent them from seducing a person. This isn’t a form of sexual attraction for them. It is a different style of manipulation, and the sprites are well-versed in the art.
Wonderful artwork of Nixie under her affliction commissioned from Mogadeer (tumblr –
mogadeer). If you ever want a picture of your character, she is highly recommended! She’s done such a wonderful job on all the ideas I’ve had.
John got the hell out of there. He didn’t actually know that Sam was cursed and with them until probably about a half hour into the drive. He thought that the witch had taken his youngest and was gunning for his eldest. His first thought was getting Dean the hell out of that motel and out of her reach.
Dean managed to pull himself together enough to reveal what he had cupped between his hands. Poor Sam was downsized to two and a half inches. They ended up on the side of the road when John was too shocked to keep driving.
With Sam unconscious and no way for them to wake him, they drove to Bobby’s. Dean refused to leave Sam’s side. While John and Bobby were desperately searching for a cure or a curse reversal, he was there with his brother in his hands, watching over him.
When Sam woke up a week later, he and Dean were in their own room at Bobby’s, but his bed was now too big. So Dean kept him on his chest to sleep, where he could make sure Sam was safe the entire time.
Dean groaned as he read over the text. “This is boring,” he grumbled. “We should sneak out and get ice cream.”
Sam scoffed, taking a few steps on Dean’s back. He’d started out perched on Dean’s head so he could read over the assignment, but Dean spent so much of his time grumbling over the work, he was still on the same page five minutes after Sam had finished.
After being this size for a few weeks, he was beginning to find it far more intriguing than frightening. So long as their dad wasn’t yelling at them, of course. Even now, he could feel the muscles shift under his feet as Dean finally went to turn the page. He was massively outsized, but perfectly safe where he was.
“Y’know that I can’t give you all the answers,” Sam pointed out, walking back up to a shoulder so he could peer off. “You need to do some of it for yourself.”
No one had spotted Sam yet, not even during a test. He was small enough to use the folds in the shirt to hide in, and his voice was soft enough that the other students couldn’t hear him. Dean’s grades had taken an upswing, even with the course material a few years ahead of where Sam was. It was a welcome challenge that he could use to keep his mind off things.
Dean reached the end of the reading and grabbed a notebook. “Whatever. But you’re still helping me with the homework, pint-size. Can’t have you slacking off either.”
Sam hid a smirk as he swung his legs off the edge of the shoulder, letting them dangle before he dropped down to the soft mattress below. He landed in a pile, bouncing slightly before he caught his balance. From this angle, he was completely bathed in shadow from above, Dean’s shoulders blocking the light.
Making his way over to the book, he glanced up at Dean. “Do you at least have something my size to write with?”
Dean looked like a deer in headlights when he was put on the spot. He glanced between Sam, who stood all of two and a half inches tall, and the pencil in his hand, which was easily five inches, if not longer.
“Uhh…” Dean trailed off.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Looks like you’ll still be doing the work,” he jabbed.
John crossed his arms, staring down at the brothers. “Mind explaining what the hell you were thinking?” he demanded of Dean.
Dean stiffened, annoyance flashing in his eyes. Sam was surprised. Even after everything, he was so used to Dean doing whatever their dad said like a good little soldier. But now, the older brother was in clear disagreement with the hunter.
Dean clenched a fist. “He’s not going to learn anything if we just lock him up all day. And I was watching out for him. No one ever saw him in my hood.”
John scowled. Sam shrank a little closer to Dean, intimidated by the angry glare. No matter how much he understood intellectually that he wasn’t going to be hurt, it was hard to see someone bigger than a building so angry.
Dean’s hand scooped Sam off the table when he wasn’t looking, too distracted by their father. He was cupped protectively by Dean’s chest while the boy continued arguing. “Dad, if we just keep him locked up like that, he’s going to get bored and he needs to stay sharp if he’s going to be this size, at least until we find a cure. You can’t watch him all day. At least if he’s with me, he’s safe.”
John didn’t move for a minute, sizing both his sons up with his arms crossed. “If anything happens to him, you’re responsible,” he snapped at Dean before stalking away.
Sam could feel the tension leak out of Dean the moment he was turned away. He didn’t say a word, holding his tongue as gratitude filled him. He wouldn’t be stuck in a massive room all day with nowhere to go.
Thanks to Dean, who’d stood up to their father for the first time.
The Climbing Bet
BA Canon: Yes
Timeline: After The Golden Touch
Dean snorted. “No way.”
Sam glared up at him. “Seriously? You doubt me? After I saved your sorry ass from being a statue.” He shook his head mournfully with a smirk hiding in the corner of his lips.
Dean cocked an eyebrow at the bookshelf. “Sure, but you climbed a tree back there. I’m betting there’s a few more handholds on a tree than a shelf. The thing’s pretty much a cliff.”
Sam jabbed his hook at Dean. “If I can climb it, I get control over the television for a week.”
Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Deal.” He stuck a hand out.
Sam grinned confidently as he let Dean cautiously shake his much smaller arm between two fingers. “You’ll be eating your words,” he shot back at his big brother as the older hunter stood and stepped back.
“Better put your money where your mouth is, pint-size,” Dean said as he leaned against the wall. Standing, he was just as tall as the shelves he’d challenged Sam to climb. “Or I’ll be in charge of the TV for the week.”
Sam uncoiled his fishing line, the clear rope ready in his hands. He ignored the looming shadow of the older Winchester, knowing Dean wouldn’t interfere unless Sam slipped. For once, he actually had a safety net as he climbed. Normally, he was on his own when he tried foolhardy stunts like this. Walt would always lecture him, but he’d always do it again. He was one of the best climbers around, after all.
The first shelf was easy. An easy toss got the hook snagged on a vase. Sam tugged on the line, judging how solid the catch was. Only when he was certain that it wouldn’t shake free did he start climbing up.
The line he used was smooth, hard to climb directly up most days. After years of practice, his hands were becoming as callused as Dean’s, but for completely different reasons. The calluses gave him a better grip on his line, letting him haul his body up with nothing more than his hands.
He clambered up the first shelf, eyeing up his surroundings. Beyond the vase and a discarded Bible, he could see Dean’s knees, the thick legs crossed while he leaned against the wall. Sam couldn’t help a smile at the thought of using Dean to climb the rest of the way up, but pushed that thought away. Besides being an easy out, Dean would probably declare that ‘cheating.’
Sam flicked his line, releasing the hook from its snug fit. He held it at the ready, staring up at the shelf above. This time, the game would be interesting. The shelves were all even, so there was no way for him to reach the next one up without leaning out into the open air.
A careful examination of his surroundings revealed a bracket above, used to set the shelves into the wall. There were holes interspaced on the brackets, and one of them might be just far enough out for him to be able to use it to climb up. With a rush of confidence, Sam tossed his hook at the bracket.
And missed.
He growled as he pulled the line back. Dean leaned down with a smirk. “Need a hand?” he goaded Sam.
Sam ignored him, trying the shot again. At least in this case, there was no hurry, and no danger from the human nearby. No danger past the teasing and jokes, at least.
The second toss did it. He tugged on the line, then began climbing again. This time, his line didn’t make it all the way to the shelf, but he was able to grip the metal bracket, scaling up the last few inches. He unhooked his fishhook on the way, attaching it to the pocket Walt had made for a time just like this.
The grin wouldn’t leave his face after that level. The end of a blanket draped down from the shelf above, so he didn’t even need to get his hook back out to get to the third shelf, putting him at chest height for Dean and one shelf away from his goal. He caught his hook on the bracket on his first toss. Barely two minutes later, and he hauled himself up to the top, swaggering over to Dean’s surprised face with a knowing grin.
“So,” Sam smirked. “Who’s up for some Star Wars this week?”
Brothers Apart 