He opened up a pocket on his shirt. Flipping his grip so he dangled the little guy by his trapped legs over the cloth enclosure, he gave him one last dismissive statement.
“I’ll deal with you later.”
He dropped Sam into his pocket and fastened it shut.
“Goddammit! ” Dean cursed at the sight of Jacob and Sam both bloodied. It was over with so fast, he’d barely realized what was happening before the man was slicing down on Jacob’s arm.
Where Sam was.
Forgetting about the sprites and the plan to lie low until Bowman and Jacob were free, Dean yanked out his own knife, the matching brother to Sam’s, ready to charge in.
(( Wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get anything done since work is exhausting this week, but I managed to come up with this drabble. For @chewbaccaaah, I hope you feel better! Placed directly after Music, and directly before Movie Night. Enjoy! ))
Sam leaned against the wall of the small entrance that lead to Dean’s room. The sight of the dust was familiar and didn’t bother him in the way it caked his boots. He was far more focused on what he could hear.
Inside the room, Dean had settled down at the table after moving around some, tossing what sounded like clothing into a pile. It wasn’t surprising, they’d been there for almost a month now. Dean would have to make a trip to the local laundromat if he wanted to wash the reek out of his clothes.
Sam suspected why Dean was putting it off so long, and it all tied into Sam. Just a month ago, he was taken from his brother. Treated like nothing more than a toy, his arm snapped for speaking up against his captors, Sam’s harrowing experience had only ended with Dean’s timely intervention with Kara.
Only a month had passed. Sam’s arm remained broken, but healing, and Dean’s fear of losing his little brother again was foremost in his mind. He’d barely stirred from the room more than the occasional trip to the bar to try and relax. All trips had been unsuccessful so far.
Sam took a deep breath, and stepped out of the walls.
He wasn’t trying to avoid Dean. He knew that his older brother wanted nothing more than to protect him and everyone else that lived under the floorboards of his claimed room (the motel staff would need to pry Dean out of the room if his money ran out before Sam was recovered). They were his family, and it didn’t matter that they all could fit in the palm of his hand. They were his and that was all that was important.
The trip to the end of the bed went quickly. Sam stayed under the edge of the covers all the way until he reached the end, then hesitantly peered out to see where Dean was and what he was doing now. Brother or not, he was still the size of a building and Sam couldn’t risk relaxing his guard if Dean didn’t know where he was.
Dean remained at the table, his bacon cheeseburger next to his relaxed arm. Sam’s brow furrowed at the sight of the huge burger only half-eaten. Normally Dean would inhale a sandwich that size, and if Sam’s food was something he liked, he might be nudging Sam to see if he could get any of the leftovers. It saddened Sam to see for himself the effect his absence was having on his older brother. Dean deserved better after everything he’d done for them.
Not far from the burger, Sam recognized the plastic top of a fast food salad. Nothing fancy, but clearly waiting for someone to claim. Dean never ate a salad on his own, and only finished Sam’s because, as he bitched, “Can’t let food go to waste, Sammy. Rabbit food or not.”
They were raised in almost completely different worlds, yet some things remained the same in both brothers. Lessons learned, hard truths realized.
Sam stepped out into the open, and felt Dean’s eyes lock onto him a second later. Ever the hunter, Dean was in tune with his surroundings enough to spot the small movement on the floor close by.
Sam met Dean’s surprised look with a steady, trusting one of his own. Just Dean, his mind reminded him. His broken arm twinged.
“S-Sammy,” Dean stuttered, sitting up straight and glancing around the tabletop. He clearly hadn’t expected any company, despite the salad he’d brought. “You, ah, I mean…”
“Dean,” Sam cut him off, his voice warm as he saw Dean trying to clean up a pile of messy napkins shoved to the side. Dean paused, blinking slowly. “I heard you got me a salad,” he said as he took another step forward.
“Yes!” Dean winced as he saw Sam flinch at the volume. “Yes,” he said at a much softer level. “I didn’t… I thought I heard you in the vents earlier. I just wanted you to know you’re… always welcome to stop in. Even just for a minute.”
Sam’s lips twisted into a frown at the sound of the loneliness in Dean’s voice. He gestured with a hand for Dean’s help, and saw the small smile that formed on Dean’s face. A huge hand lowered down next to Sam and he stepped on, ruthlessly suppressing any desire to flinch at Dean’s size.
Before Dean could place him on the table next to the salad, Sam waved for him to stop. Dean froze, his hand only a foot from his face.
“Dean,” Sam said, meeting him right in the eye. Those green eyes the size of Sam’s head that he could feel on him just like any other humans. “I’m sorry I haven’t come out much. I didn’t realize how long it’s been. Mostly Walt insists I take it easy and rest, so the days kinda blend together, y’know?” He tapered off, thinking hard about how he wanted to put it. “I don’t think I can come stay in here yet, at least not until my arm’s better, but… you think you’re up for a movie night? Kara’s never seen any movies, and Sean… he probably misses TV.”
The growing smile on Dean’s face let Sam knew he’d picked the best plan. Dean loved kids, and this would give him a chance to see Kara after helping take care of her before rescuing her dad, and it would be the first time he’d seen Sean since rescuing him.
“Sounds like a plan,” Dean agreed happily, some semblance of his regular attitude restored. “Up for some salad first or should we get the others?”
Sam grinned back. “I’ll get some salad if you don’t mind.”
Watching Dean dive back into his burger with his enthusiasm back full force, Sam wondered why he hadn’t visited sooner.
“Sorry, guys,” was their only warning before Jacob’s fingers curled inwards, ushering Dean back towards his palm. He scooped them both up in his hand and tucked that hand close to his chest where he could defend them.
An echo of thunder rolled around Sean, and he dove underneath the scraps of fabric that made up his ‘nest.’
Standing at only three inches in height, the young boy blinked out at the world from his protective cocoon, huge tears flowing from his eyes. This was wrong. Everything was wrong, and he was scared.
Summoned by the yelp he’d heard, Walt Watch limped around the doorway that lead to the room Sean was staying in. The older man held his side tenderly, and Sean remembered hearing that his entire home had caved in on him, knocking him just out of range of a fire that raged. Walt was as lucky as Sean to be alive.
But at least he was used to being small.
“Hey, there,” Walt said, sitting next to Sean’s protective fort. “How are you hanging in?”
Sean said nothing, just blinked blearily at the older man. Another rumble of thunder came, this time with the rhythmic sounds of footsteps accompanying it. That made him dive down, out of sight. He hated the reminder of how small they were.
Walt put a hand on the top of the piled-up fabric. Krissy and Bennett had given up the extra room for Sean, since he wasn’t used to sharing with anyone the way they were. They were staying in the same room as their mother, and Walt had the room next to Sean’s. The young boy reminded him so much of Sam all those years ago. Afraid and alone and lonely. Forced to confront realities that no child deserved.
“Look, they don’t know we’re here,” Walt said wisely. “They won’t hear us, they won’t bother us. Sam once told me that humans had a way of getting through thunderstorms if young children were afraid. He said to just think of it as God getting a shower, and the thunder as his footsteps. Those humans up there are the same. Just walking around, minding their own business.”
Sean peeked out at Walt. “B-but if they find us…” he said in a half-moan of fear.
Walt ruffled his hair. “They won’t,” he promised. “We’ve got a safe home here. Besides, if it wasn’t for humans, we wouldn’t have much to eat, now, would we?”
Sean blinked back at him, looking unconvinced.
“If you want, I can stick around for a bit,” Walt offered. “Staying in a strange place all alone can be scary.”
Sean rubbed his eyes. “I’d like that,” he said shyly. “It’s just all so… different…”
“Sam said the same thing when we first found him,” Walt nodded. Sean’s wide eyes encouraged him to continue. Though Sean had never met Sam, he’d heard all about his rescuer from Krissy and Bennett. “He was just about your age back then…”
Walt told stories about Sam’s first days cursed until Sean couldn’t hold his eyes open any longer, and the young boy drifted off to sleep.
“Oscar,” Jacob repeated. The shift in the tension in the air was palpable. Even though the little guy was curled up warily on the table, getting a name out of him felt like a step forward. A tiny step forward, but it was better than watching him cry and not knowing if he was hurt. Knowing he caused those tears had sent Jacob reeling.
“I’m Jacob,” he replied, allowing the faintest smile to cross his face. “Where, um, where did you come from, Oscar?”
Oscar shrugged, the tiniest little shoulders Jacob had ever seen, and wiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I always lived here,” he replied. His voice was still rough from his crying, but it wavered less than before.
“And you came to get food,” Jacob mused. Holy shit. He couldn’t help but think of how desperate Oscar must have been to climb his backpack for food, if someone Jacob’s size inspired this much terror. Was the little guy living out of that bag with nothing else to his name?
Sam could barely hide a grin at the sight of the tiny form sprawled out on the pillow near Jacob. Dean might as well be a kitten in the center of the pillow, trying to claim it for his own.
“So much for ‘checking out the perimeter,’ ” Sam quipped, remembering Dean’s initial plan.
Once he checked out the edge of the forest around them, staying within the warm glow of the firelight, Dean drifted over to Jacob’s belongings, eyeing up the massive bag with an amazed gleam in his eyes that he hid most of the time. That bag could hold their old home in Lawrence if Jacob wanted it to.
Then, to the side of the bag, Dean spotted something far more interesting.
Jogging the last few feet, Dean found a pillow shoved up next to the bag. Just as massive as Jacob and the rest of his belongings, they could use the pillow as a pedestal for the Impala if they wanted to. He couldn’t resist scaling up it, discovering a fluffy, soft surface that he almost sank right into.
Mallory found herself accidentally ripping the fabric in her aggravation, instead of her nimble fingers slipping between the threads to coax them apart. Dethreading like this was the best way to get workable string, that wasn’t too thick for their delicate skin. Coarse fabric might be fine for humans, with their impervious skin, but it would chafe a person Mallory’s size.
Walt had the audacity to tell her that she needed to stay in the house. As though he couldn’t stay home for once and watch their toddling daughter, only just now taking her first steps.
Bree sat to the side on the floor, enthralled with the fabric toy Mallory had made for her. She hefted it up with a quiet squeal of enjoyment, her mouth widening in a toothy grin. She already had all her front teeth, and the back ones were starting to peek out.
It wasn’t that Mallory didn’t love spending time at home with her daughter. It was the fact that Walt always wanted to keep her inside. He never brought home the right colors for fabric, and she just wanted a chance to go out searching for herself. She could always just leave one night, she supposed, but that wasn’t fair to anyone. At least she knew that Walt was going to be out. He would fret if she vanished, but they couldn’t leave their daughter alone to search.
A scraping sound came from the entrance to their small home under the floorboards, and Mallory glanced up. Walt could be seen coming in with a sheepish look on his face. His hands were tucked behind his back.
Mallory stuck her nose up and turned back to her fabric.
She did her best to ignore him as he came over to her, one hand gently stroking down her back. He gave her neck a kiss, and she tried to squirm away, refusing to let him win his way back so easily.
“I thought things over,” Walt whispered, and that caught her attention. His voice was truly contrite.
She turned to him to grace him with a raised eyebrow and a severe look on her face.
Walt knelt down, his right hand still behind his back. “I talked to Katrine,” he said honestly, but continued before she could berate him for going to her best friend behind her back. “She is going to watch Bree for us tomorrow, so we can go out.” He gave her a hesitant, hopeful smile, pulling his hand from behind his back to reveal a purple snapdragon.
Mallory gasped in surprise as her hands flew to her mouth. The scent that washed over her meant it was a real flower, carefully gathered from outside where the motel they made their home in planted its gardens.
She took it carefully, stroking the soft surface of the flower petal.
“I don’t want to keep you locked up inside,” Walt said, his blue eyes full of remorse. “I just don’t want the humans finding you. You don’t even have a way to defend yourself! I need you – we need you. So… I’m sorry?”
Mallory sighed, and wrapped her arms around him to forgive him. She planted a soft kiss on his lips before nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “So where are we going while Kat watches Bree?” she asked, a pleased smile on her face.
Walt put two hands on her shoulders, pushing her away so they could look into each other’s eyes. “I was thinking we could spend some time under the overhang,” he said, his eyes glittering with mischief.
The overhang was one of three places in the motel that they could actually sit outside and watch the world pass them by. Fresh air, the wind on their faces, and enough cover to keep out of sight of any birds of prey that might hover around. Too high up for the humans on the ground to see them. There was another place Walt knew of, one he hadn’t shown her, that he used for his leatherwork. He would stretch out the hides of any rats he found and killed in the motel and leave them to tan.
They’d lived there since before it was a motel, back when Trails West was simply a bed and breakfast. Walt knew the layout of the place better than anyone alive, better than even the humans. He knew where to tap into the water so no one would notice, he knew (and had built, as the humans built) many ways in and out of the rooms near where they lived.
“That sounds wonderful,” Mallory said, leaning her head against his chest and listening to his heart beat. It helped calm her, and took away the rest of her anger from earlier.
Bree giggled over in her place on the floor, and tossed her fabric up.
Brothers Apart 