Tag: tiny dean

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June 6th excerpt:

Dean made a beeline for the pie. “You can have all the fries you want. This pie is mine.”

Sam grinned as he started to piece together a mimic of Jacob’s chicken sandwich, trying to get all of the vegetables down to a reasonable size. “It’s not like you can even finish that slice of pie,” he pointed out dryly.

“Hey!” Dean sent him an offended glare as he leaned over and sliced off the end of the pie. It was carefully balanced on the tip of his knife. “One day I’ll finish an entire pie without anyone’s help, and you’ll be wishin’ you had your own.”

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June 5th excerpt:

The distant sound of breathing came to Sam, heavy enough for a human, but there was no sense that they were up. “We’re clear,” he said quietly. “But the room ain’t. Someone’s in there.”

Dean nodded. “Just like old times, right?”

Sam grinned back. “It’s been a while since we raided a room like this.”

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June 4th excerpt:

“Okay,” Jacob spoke softly, already adopting a mindset towards being as quiet as he could. “What should the plan be once they point out the right trailer?” he asked, glancing in the mirror to meet Sam’s gaze before looking down at his pocket. He brushed his fingertips just barely over the small form slumped within. “Got a plan?”

Lulled to a half-sleep inside the pocket interior, Dean gave a slight jolt when huge fingers brushed against his side. The voice rumbled overhead, reminding him where he was just then. Not at home, safely hidden away in the walls. Their friend was lost and in trouble, and they needed to find him.

With wobbly knees, Dean stood with one hand against each side of the pocket to stay standing. The thick threads made it easy to hang on and hold himself up, and he shoved the pocket flap out of his way to see where they were.

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All I have to say on this subject is that everyone has to make their own decisions about their relationships, and it’s unhealthy for Sam and Dean to not even try.

Relationships aren’t the end, in life or in stories. They’re just a different kind of beginning, and I don’t see the brothers ever giving up on hunting. In my story or on the TV show.

image
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The pie that led Dean there in the first place vanished into the depths of the mini-fridge, forever out of reach for anyone his size. The way the fridge was designed with the airtight seal rendered it beyond their ability to open. If they could ever find a way to get in, getting to the food itself would be child’s play. The hooks they used for climbing would catch on the shelves and railings of the fridge without a problem. Dean’s bag was bigger than Sam’s, and he used every bit of that space when they were out searching for supplies. If he could fill it with food that he knew went to waste in the motel’s mini refrigerators …

Dean stared back up at the human’s words, his face clouded. The entire reason he was in the room was now out of reach, and he realized it always had been. He’d put both himself and Sam at risk for it. The only shining light was Sam evading capture. If their roles were reversed, he’d never forgive himself.

As he always did, Dean put his trademark snark to good use building a wall around his emotions. “If you didn’t go causing earthquakes with your big stomping feet, I wouldn’t have to be a ninja,” he griped up at Jacob, letting years and years worth of resentment shine through in his tone with a convenient target for it in sight. His voice bounced back at him from the glass, only fueling his frustration. “You left the pie out, that made it fair game.”

“Is that so,” Jacob answered through a chuckle that he poorly concealed. It was very difficult for him not to find that teeny tiny glare and endless sass entertaining. Whoever this guy was, whatever he was, he was funny. Jacob really hoped they could come around to some kind of understanding soon.

Excerpt from The Road Not Taken

Artwork by @lamthetwickster

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“C’mon,” Jacob muttered, getting his finger and thumb pinched on the flat of the blade. It was delicate work, he realized, seeing that tiny hand clenched around the handle with a certain white-knuckled desperation. Jacob didn’t want to break the little weapon or the hand holding it, but he didn’t want to get sliced up either. It had to go, at least until he could calm the tiny man down.

The man fought back against his motions with a growing desperation, but nothing could stop the knife from slowly being pulled free of his grip. Jacob could have sworn he could feel the small legs trying to push against the inside of his fist for leverage during the short tug-of-war. One that he would have won instantly if he wasn’t doing his best to not hurt the little guy. Those fingers were tiny.

Once he managed to wrestle the knife free, he immediately set it down next to the tiny leather duffel bag for safe keeping. He stared with a faint frown at the cut on his finger before looking back at the little guy in his fist with a bemused look. “Gotta admit, I didn’t see that coming. Where’d you even get a knife like that?” he asked.

“What’s it to you?” Dean griped, still doing his best to struggle free of the constricting fingers wrapped all the way around him. “I don’t think they come in your size, Sasquatch!” The last thing he was going to do was open up to his captor and go Oh, hey. I made that as a test run for a present I wanted to make my little brother. Silver blade and all.

Excerpt from The Road Not Taken.

Wonderful artwork by @rerak-sketchbook!

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This is actually an idea we’ve been kicking around for a future story, but so far we haven’t had any huge strokes of inspiration for it (or any ideas for a name). Sam, the much calmer tol, with tiny zen Jacob and Dean the angriest smol to ever smol. Perhaps one day that will be the one you’re guessing!

(Honestly, these guessing games give us so many new ideas, so keep ‘em coming!)

And I will forever imagine Dean storming the table if Sam manages to catch Jacob… just going in guns blazing (or at least his bitty knife). That’s his adopted little brother. Give back.