Tag: the borrowers

Sneak Peek

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The story continues for the Consulted crew in A Day of Duality!

Sam shifted in place as John stopped, blinking at the world around him. “Somethin’ wrong?” he asked blearily, pulled out of a daydream he’d fallen into during the walk.

Then Sam heard it too. A faint cry in the air, something easily overlooked. His ears pricked up, and he paid close attention to the back of his neck, alert for anyone other than John around the alley. “Sounds like someone’s hurt,” Sam said, glancing around. That didn’t sound like the call of an injured animal, and out in London that was less likely to happen.

“Yeah,” John agreed, stepping gingerly into the alley. For a voice to be that soft, one of two things had to be true. On the one hand, it could be an injured human in the far distance, in which case John would have to be incredibly careful with Sam.

No one would speak of it, but since Sam’s kidnapping all those weeks ago there was an enhanced sense of responsibility between John and Sherlock to protect their friends. There was a much greater risk to anything that ran the chance of Sam or Dean being seen. Other humans were always a wild card, especially strangers.

Then again, on the other hand, the voice could seem distant because the person it belonged to was a borrower, closer to Sam and Dean’s size.

John didn’t know which he dreaded more. Even so, something in him wouldn’t let him turn his back on someone who needed help.

Sam was attentive as John went, his ears tuned to the voice they’d heard on the wind. There was no sense that they were being watched, no feeling of eyes on him, so he frowned, wondering who could have called for help.

“Do you think–” Sam started, then cut himself off.

Down on the ground of the alley, he’d caught sight of motion against the ground. Just a flicker, but there.

Sam might have passed it off as a mouse hiding from John if he hadn’t spotted color.

Nudging John in the neck, Sam motioned at the ground. “Watch it, I think someone’s here.”

Sneak Peek

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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.

Quiet As a Mouse

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neonthewrite:

image

1)  This prompt came in ages ago and I’m 99% sure it was actually meant for @nightmares06, but I hoarded it anyway.

2)  It’s a really cute idea and also the thing I wrote did not end up exactly like this (since most borrowers probably don’t pray) but I think it fits pretty well.

3)  My failed sneak peek guessing game was referring to this story. Surprise. It was Cas all along.

4)  Long-ish read, about 2k words. Couldn’t find a good place to split it up. 

¯_(ツ)_/¯

“Quiet as a mouse.”

One of Oscar’s favorite phrases, the words became something of a mantra for him when he went out looking for supplies. He had long since forgotten where he learned it. So many people came and went every day, and so many of them left the TV on full volume. Any one of them could have taught him about it.

As far as Oscar was concerned, “quiet as a mouse” was the ultimate goal. He’d learned a lot from his furry neighbors within the walls. The motel offered a haven, but only so long as no humans knew they were there.

Oscar had known the comings and goings of the mice for years. He’d taken a trick or two from them. His steps were as silent as theirs were, so his cloth-wrapped feet could carry him undetected through even the dustiest of passages.

These skills kept him hidden day in and day out checking rooms. Even occupied rooms never noticed his passing by. Humans often wouldn’t even imagine someone like Oscar (or even just a mouse) would be around.

He told himself this over and over, and still he was afraid now.

Out in a room, hanging from the back of the nightstand, Oscar was frozen. The crumbs stuffed into his cloth bag were heavier than ever on his shoulder, and his hands gripped the lamp cord with white knuckles.

The room was supposed to be empty.

Keep reading

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August 4th excerpt:

The moment those fingers closed around him, Jacob felt his heart skip a beat. Even knowing Dean wouldn’t hurt him or keep him trapped like that, he couldn’t help the bolt of pure instinct that raced through his system. Until Dean opened his hand, he was trapped, truly and completely.

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July 19th excerpt:

“We both will,” came a deeper voice, and Sam gave a start, looking up to find just the corner of Dean’s eye looking towards them. It was difficult for Dean to interact with them on his shoulder, but not impossible.

Dean smirked at Sam’s surprise. “Do you really think I can’t hear you there, pint-size?” He shook his head mournfully, a joke sparkling in his eye. “I thought you knew better.”

Sam huffed with frustration, and Walt had to stifle a chuckle at his expense.

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July 15th excerpt:

A distant “Come in!” made its way to where they stood, and Sam and Dean both frowned in unison, a silent look passing between them.

“What is it?” Walt asked warily, disliking the way the air filled with tension.

“Might be nothing,” Dean muttered, his voice staying low for them.

“Might be something,” Sam interjected, one hand tight on Dean’s collar while the other rested against his brother’s neck.

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Oh my gosh, that’s great! Looks like I shouldn’t be tagging things after a long, exhausting day of work! (This is why I usually do my blog upkeep on weekends, but everyone’s so into the guessing game, I can’t leave ya’ll hanging…)

However it happened, you earned a sneak peek of A World of Secrets! Which Jacob and his family just stumbled into!

If Sam could inch away from the two giants the pocket concealed him from, he would. The stern tone of voice Jacob’s mom had taken on was very familiar, and Sam couldn’t stifle an involuntary yelp of surprise. He heard it from his dad almost constantly. Dean was the patient teacher, John was the stern drill sergeant.

They were mad.

Sam put a hand on the hilt of his knife, drawing strength from the gift Dean had given him. Please don’t hurt me.

Jacob heard Sam’s quiet noise, and thought back to moments ago when the other kid worried Jacob’s parents would be mad at him. He was scared of them. Telling mama and papa about him would be breaking a promise and would probably make him cry. Jacob didn’t want to do either of those things.

He also didn’t want to keep lying. He was supposed to listen to them when they told him to do something. Jacob’s toy trucks fell to the floor and he pressed his hands against the wall behind him while the conflict practically dug into him. What was he to do?

“I don’ … don’t wanna be mean,” he finally murmured lamely, hanging his head but still peeking at his mother and father. His mouth was angled in a frown and his eyes stung.

“Hey, Jake, kiddo,” his father said quietly, stepping around his wife with care that didn’t seem to fit his huge frame. He stooped and braced his hands on his knees, peering at him with a serious but kind look. “You’re not in trouble, okay? I don’t know what got you so worried, but we do need to know if you’re hiding something from us, especially if it’s alive. Okay?”

Jacob stuck out his lower lip in a pout while he let his father’s low rumble of a voice sink in. He knew they would come and check his pockets if he didn’t give in. He thought he might have a chance at avoiding some trouble if he complied, and after a second his hands moved hesitantly to his pocket where he knew Sam was curled up in fear.

Now my new friend is gonna hate me, he thought sadly as he reached into the pocket and scooped his fingers under the small form to lift him out.

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We have a winner!

#auv stands for An Unexpected Visitor! Certainly Dean never imagined who he would find sneaking about in his room, searching for food…

He was under the bed when he heard it.

A key, probably more than half Oscar’s height, sliding into the lock on the door. Ice surged through his veins and he froze. There was nothing else he could do.

Oscar had a view of the nightstand between the two beds, beyond a forest of dustbunnies, as the door creaked open. With agonizing slowness, a piece of wood impossibly tall and heavy for someone his size swung open to admit the human checked into the room. Oscar’s legs tensed. He’d gotten himself stuck in rooms with humans in them before, but it never got easier. He was too small.

Heavy footfalls that Oscar could never miss vibrated through the floor. Same usual routine; a few steps, then the percussive click of the door shutting. Oscar held his breath and stared straight ahead.

Something crashed onto the other bed, and before Oscar could glance in that direction, the entire world around him quaked. The bed frame and the mattress it supported both released noises of protest as the human crashed onto them. Thinking quickly before he could yelp in terror, the room’s hidden occupant lifted his hands and clamped them over his mouth. Oscar stared upwards at the underside of the mattress with wide brown eyes.

For a kid barely more than two inches tall, just a step could cause a small earthquake.

Oscar was used to the feeling of humans walking around. They were always stomping about as they got ready for something or other, and Oscar tried his best to keep himself well out of their way. He was still learning the routines, though, and hadn’t expected anyone in this room for some time.

It was hard to learn these things by himself, but he didn’t have any other options. Oscar’s mom was gone and she had been for a while. He had been seven when he last saw her, and he was eight now, he was sure. It was so hard to navigate a world so big by himself.

She would have known what to do in this situation. He was under the bed with a human in the room, and he didn’t have any exits into the walls. It was safer in there by far, where he could take quiet steps and keep to himself and the humans never bothered with it. They were giant, unpredictable people in most things, but at least they could be counted on to ignore the space that Oscar called home.

He glanced across the floor, past piles of dustbunnies and the wide expanse of worn out carpet. Past the second bed and the dresser was his vent, low in the wall.

It felt so far away. Oscar lowered his trembling hands from his face and took a slow, quiet breath. At least he knew how to be quiet.

He was frightened of the human above. Oscar had found a small, stale piece of a cracker. It was probably from the previous motel guest, but if this one found out he took it, he could be mad. Then he might want to hurt Oscar, and the tiny child would be helpless.

He crept towards the edge of the bed. His wrapped feet pushed softly through the dust piles until he was just at the edge of the bed. He stared straight up.

He almost ducked back immediately at the sight of a hand draped over the side. It wasn’t moving, so he took a slow breath instead. He could do this. All he had to do was move quickly and stay out of sight. So long as the human stayed up on that bed and slept, he’d be fine.

Biting his lip to steel himself, he clutched his bag closer. Then, he bolted across the space between the beds. All he had to do was dive under the other one, and he’d have a safe place to get closer to his vent.

Halfway out, he tripped on the thick carpet fibers. Stumbling, he toppled forward and landed on his front with a quiet Oof! that sent ice up his spine.

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June 20th excerpt:

This movement caught Dean off guard, and left the smaller man clinging to the curls in surprise. “What did I say about movin?’ “ he scolded, frozen in place until he was absolutely certain Sherlock wasn’t going to knock him off. “This is hard enough already! I’d like to see you climb someone’s hair.”

Taking a deep breath to steel himself and forcing any thought of how high up he was suspended in the air on a moving person, Dean started to climb again.

Only now, he put more effort into where his boots dug into Sherlock’s scalp. 

For traction.

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There are several select differences between them, their height the chief difference so far. More will be mentioned in the future, but for now know that none of the smols in my story that are like Walt Watch will ever come close to six inches in height. Four inches is tall for them, and four and a quarter would likely be close to their tallest.

“Borrowers” and “littles” are just names applied to them by humans over the years, and they don’t see the point in arguing against them. They’ve lost the memory of where they came from.