December 16th excerpt:
Leaning on the slight incline of John’s fingers, some of which outsized him in length, Dean had never looked smaller and more vulnerable.
This was further accentuated when a longer, paler finger came from behind John to poke at Dean’s shoulder, flipping the tiny person onto his back.
“Stop that!” John hissed, slapping Sherlock’s hand out of the way. The hand supporting Dean wavered ever so slightly, causing his head to loll to the other side.
December 13th excerpt:
Infuriated, Dean’s hand closed into a fist around the tinfoil cup, crumpling it into a ball. “Son of a bitch! ” he snarled, whipping the ball of foil at the stack of books. Glowering at the way it just bounced off the topmost book, he shoved his boot back on, threading the laces and pulling them as tight as he could, searching for a place to funnel his anger.
December 10th excerpt:
If it wasn’t for the dire circumstances they were in, Dean’s face would have been painted with fascination at the chance to work with the tools Sherlock used on his cases. As it was, he set to his task with no wasted energy, carefully mopping up every drop of blood that speckled Sam’s knife. The murky gleam of red was soon replaced by the more familiar shine.
Dean’s small size made it simple to get the blood right on the tip of the paper. It was like working with oversized construction paper, and since the blade was made for Dean’s size, he didn’t have a problem.
A small mimic of Sherlock, Dean sat back on his heels, holding up the folded paper circle for Sherlock to take, its white surface marred by the ring of drying blood.
I did some calculations to figure out how much smol Sam and smol Dean weigh, just cause.
December 2nd excerpt:
“Mornin,’ doc!” Dean called gamely, keeping his eyes trained on Sam. “Learned it all from my dad!”
During Dean’s brief distraction, Sam took advantage of his only chance to get out of the pin, knowing Dean could keep him in place. Sam kicked out, tossing Dean off balance, and then aimed his kick at Dean’s side, smoothly knocking his older brother to the ground and reversing their positions.
“You were saying?” Sam grinned, one hand around Dean’s throat to keep him from trying to get up.
(Dean, possession)
Timeline: Eight days after cursed
“Please… we need help…”
Dean held Sam close to him, looking up at the woman with dried tears clinging to his eyelashes. Twenty-four hours. Just twenty-four hours since they’d woken up like this, and there was a small light in the dark.
He couldn’t quite remember everything. It was all a blur before waking up in the hot, humid darkness. A woman, breaking into their room and attacking them. Dean could do nothing to keep her from his little brother. She’d pinned him effortlessly to the wall, without once touching him, forcing him to watch his little brother vanish into a white light.
And then doing the same for him, the world going black as the white light surrounded him.
Now, they’d escaped from her, but nothing was the way they remembered.
Motel rooms were larger than sweeping cathedrals. A football stadium could fit on the two beds. People were giants, the remote for the TV was unmovable, and Dean was scared.
Nothing, not his dad’s training, not Bobby’s stories, nothing, could have prepared him for this.
The woman stared down at him, her eyes widening in slight surprise. Dean could see so much detail in her face, he knew the moment her pupils dilated. He could smell the sickly-sweet scent of wine on her breath when her mouth parted.
That was all the warning they got.
Her hand swept out, long fingers curling around the two tiny children. Sam cried out in surprise as Dean did his best to block her attack, but standing under four inches tall meant there was no way for him to stop her.
A fist closed harshly around them, and Sam’s cries went from surprised to pained, and then stopped.
Dean sucked in a breath as the motel room nightstand vanished under their feet, the height forgotten in the wake of worry for his brother.
What did she do to Sammy?
“Please,” Dean begged. “We just need help…”
She lifted them up, her hand opening when held in front of her eyes. There was no warmth in those eyes as she scanned every one of the brothers’ very few inches.
“Wonderful…” she breathed, that sickly smell hitting Dean in a wave. He almost retched.
Containing his reaction, Dean glared at the woman as he cradled his brother in his arms. “What did you do?” he shouted angrily, Sam’s arm limp and hanging from the socket in an unnatural position.
“Sweetie,” she said in a condescending voice, “you’re just a toy. A possession. You should remember that the next time you talk back.”
She turned from the nightstand, the long fingers curling around the two boys as she rifled through the pockets of a jacket and withdrew a phone. A red-painted fingernail winked in the light at them as it tapped out a message.
New haul. Bring cage.
One word prompts open for all three admins! Check out the list and drop us a word and a character!
Send some in for us to work on over the holiday break!
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.
Saving people, hunting things. Sam and Dean grew up on those words and now, over a decade after being cursed to live out their lives at a fraction of their height, Jacob Andris will help them live up to their destiny.
“Y-you’re with a human,” she called back to him, as if that cleared everything up. In her mind, it did. With how massive the human was, he was a danger to her and everyone living in that house. Even the weakest humans could overpower them easily.
The pipes leading to the faucet of the tub loomed ahead of her. She hesitated, wondering if she would have time to climb up. The sound of the man’s sturdy boots scraping on dust on the ground as he chased her made the decision. She nearly toppled over when she came to a stop and all but threw herself up the ladder formed by the supports for the pipes.
The metal supports were spaced just far enough apart that she had to really stretch to reach each one, but she climbed as quickly as she could. There should be a loose tile near the bathtub. She could take a shortcut from there. There had to be somewhere she could lose the guy before his human caught on to anything.
“Just leave me alone!” she insisted, pausing for just a moment to look down and see if he’d followed her.
“Be careful!” Dean shouted out instinctively when he saw how dangerous her climb was. “I promise, we’re just here to help!”
He growled when she didn’t show any sign of slowing down, and started to climb up after her. “Seriously,” he muttered to himself, “what is it with everyone always climbing? ”
The climb wasn’t as harrowing for Dean as it was for her, thanks to his longer body. He could reach the handholds without a problem, and for the first time in his life, it looked like he was actually faster than someone at climbing up. He didn’t bother congratulating himself, intent on catching up to her before she got herself hurt trying to run away from him.
“Please?” Dean called up. He didn’t need to worry about being overheard, so he didn’t bother lowering the volume of his voice.
He froze for a second as a chill crept up his spine. His breath fogged the air in front of him.
Not good.
November 8th excerpt:
Sam looked towards the table, his eyes glancing over the newspaper clippings that covered it. In his mind’s eye, he could conjure up an image of Dean, who would pick through those articles any night he could, working through Sherlock’s cases on his own and occasionally coming up with separate lines of inquiry.
He was always so proud when his ideas helped solve the cases.
Could Dean’s curiosity have lured him out into the open near Sherlock?
Non-Canon
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own this concept, all rights for the Brothers Lost storyline of cursed!Sam and cursed!Dean with full sized Jacob are owned by@nightmares06 (aka @brothersapart ) and PL1 (aka @neonthewrite )
If you haven’t read part 1, here’s a link: Brothers Lost Meets Charlie Bradbury Part 1
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Author’s Note: Wow I was not expecting that many people to like the story. Thanks people of Tumblr!
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Once in the car, Jacob brought out the Winchesters from hiding. He tried to hold them low enough so that anyone on the sidewalk couldn’t see them with a quick glance.
“So what do you guys think?” Jacob asked.
“You forgot the EM-oof!” Dean started, getting cut off by an elbow to the ribs, courtesy of Sam.
“What he meant to say was, you did great, but you could use some work.” Sam said up to the teen.
“Yeah, but now we don’t have a reading and we’ll have to break in later!” Dean griped.
“Break in??” Jacob echoed with hesitancy.
“Welcome to the hunting business. Get used to it!” Dean quipped with a grin.
Well, just another reason I can’t tell anyone what I really do on the road.. Jacob thought to himself.
“I’m guessing we will have to do this at night, like in the movies?” Jacob said.
“Yup, and in the meantime, we interrogate wizard boy.” Dean said, grin going wider.
“Hopefully it doesn’t go as bad as last time..” Sam started, amusement coloring his voice.
“I didn’t do that bad!” Jacob protested.
“You asked a man that was suspected of killing his wife how is day was going!” Sam exclaimed.
“It was my first time posing as a sheriff! The badge I got wasn’t even official!” Jacob protested in a slightly higher whisper, even as a blush darkened his face. The brothers were hiding grins at the memory as Jacob lifted them to his shoulder for the car ride.
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Sam and Dean slipped out of sight in Jacob’s inner pocket when he parked at the police station. When they were situated Jacob got out and headed in, fumbling for his badge as he approached the front desk.
“Agent Morrison!” The officer from earlier called just as Jacob managed to flash his badge, “Right over here.”
Jacob looked over and followed the man down the hall to a simplistic interrogation room, with what had to be Lance the Mage sitting handcuffed. Jacob entered and the door closed behind him with a loud click, making Lance look up.
“Jim Morrison, FBI. I’m here to talk to you about your friend Lance’s recent passing.” Jacob said, trying to sound professional.
“I-I swear I don’t know a-anything! I’d never want to k-kill Ed!” Lance cried out, obviously distraught.
“W-woah, um- I just want to ask a few questions, nobody’s blaming anybody.”
“O-okay,” Lance responded, trying to calm down.
“Is there anyone who might want to hurt Ed?”
“N-no Ed is a great guy, everyone at Moondoor liked him,” Lance began slowly, “The only enemies he had were just in Moondoor. Everyone is friends in real life.”
“Moondoor?” Jacob questioned.
“The game we play, we’re LARPers.”
“Ok,” Jacob remembered what Sam had said about LARP, “So, about the texts you sent Ed the night he died, why were you two fighting?”
“Those texts weren’t from me. They were from me, but they weren’t from me me.”
“Um, what?” Jacob said, entirely lost. Lance shrugged, letting out a tired sigh.
“They were from Greyfox the Mystic to Thargrim the Difficult..” Lance explained, and when Jacob cocked his head, he went on with a defeated tone, “My LARPing character and Ed’s..”
“So it was all fake?” Jacob realized.
“Yes, Ed and I are best friends in real life, I’d never hurt him! I-I just c-c-can’t believe he’s really d-dea-a-ad! OH G-GODS the m-mighty Thargrim has fallen!!” He sobbed. Jacob sat there awkwardly for a minute, shifting uncomfortably as the lanky man sobbed in grief. Finally he decided to just leave Lance to his grieving.
“So what do you think?” The sheriff greeted Jacob as he closed the door behind him.
“The texts were a roleplay between his and Ed’s characters. Apparently the two are friends in real life, but mad at eachother in the ‘LARP’.”
“You think he got mad enough to kill Lance?”
“I doubt it, the man’s completely torn up about it. Those were definitely not crocodile tears.” Jacob deduced.
“I’m guessing he has no clue about a suspect then?” Jacob shook his head.
“Well call me if you find any-” Jacob started pulling out a card with his number on it, when all the sudden there was a shout of alarm down the hall from the interrogation room. Jacob followed the officer at a slower pace towards the sound for the sake of the brothers in his pocket.
They rounded the corner into a surveillance room, a woman hurried towards them.
“It’s Lance! He’s dying!” She exclaimed as she ran by, both Jacob and the officer in tow.
She fumbled to unlock the door, and swung it open as fast as she could. It was oddly quiet in the room. Jacob peered in and cursed under his breath. The lifeless body of Lance laying dead on the floor.
“Shit. Can you show me the surveillance tapes?” Jacob asked grimly.
“Uh-huh follow me.” Jacob followed her back to the surveillance room, and she rewinded the tape to show just Lance sitting there, crying softly.
All the sudden he scratched his arm and pulled up the sleeve, Jacob peered closer there was a marking on his arm that he couldn’t quite work out. Lance coughed violently, then again. The hand he had held over his mouth pulled away, covered in thick red blood.
Lance screamed and stood turning to look into the mirror of the one way glass. From where the camera pointed, Jacob could see in the mirror that the lanky LARPer’s mouth was smeared with blood. Another cough splattered dark blood across the mirror, before he screamed his last, and fell to the floor.
“God forbid he was contagious! I’m going to wash my hands!” The sheriff rushed out the door.
The young teen paled. “I’m going to need that hard drive,” he dead panned, knowing Sam and Dean would want to see it.
After securing the hard drive, Jacob wasted no time getting back into the privacy of the Impala.
He helped the brothers up onto his shoulder, and recounted as much as he could. As expected, both brothers wanted to see the video when they got back to the motel.
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Author’s Note: Sorry this is a bit short, I am very busy with play practice! Hope you all had a fun time over the weekend!
Edit: I accidentally posted this on the wrong account. Whoops, sorry!
Brothers Apart 