March 11th excerpt:
“I’m n-not hurt,” Sam managed to stutter out, clutching his knife to his chest. “W-what… are you?” His big hazel eyes were wide. He was all alone in a huge, towering forest.
Dean was gone.
John was gone.
“I don’t know where I am!” Sam said, unable to hold it in anymore. The tears overcame him again as the rising emotion over losing his family started to take over again. “I want my big brother!”
March 6th excerpt:
While Sam was lost in thought, he didn’t notice Rumsfeld shifting behind him. The dog blinked at how far away Dean was, knowing he wouldn’t be able to reach him without jumping up on the desk. Doing that would knock Sam over, and that would hurt the little guy.
So instead, he nosed up against Sam’s back.
And scooped him up with one swift motion.
March 3rd excerpt:
“Whoa!” Dean was caught off guard by the slope that developed beneath his feet. With the way he was crouched on the hand, it tilted his balance out from under him and sent him rolling down the outstretched fingers. The hand vanished from under him and he hit the bottom of the pocket, landing in a surprised heap.
Dean popped back into sight, a predictably annoyed glare on his face at the unexpected tumble. “You can’t tilt your hand like that with Sam,” he griped.
( Presenting a never before seen flashback all the way from the first week after Dean discovering Sam in Brothers Apart! )
There is a flash of boots coming straight at him, and Sam dives out of the way.
It is an instinctive, unthinking reaction to the sight of those massive leather structures that move under the control of the humans that share the world with people his size. “Borrowers,” Dean calls them, no matter how many times Sam argues against it.
He has only been traveling with his brother for two days and so is not adjusted to having a person so large around.
Sam hits the ground and rolls under the bed. It is an area that gives him more safety than the wide open area of the rest of the motel room. Dean doesn’t understand this yet, because he can’t see things the way Sam does.
He can’t see the way he towers over the entire room. He doesn’t understand the fear lurking in Sam that one of those massive hands will shoot towards the smaller hunter-in-training and trap him against his will.
It is these thoughts that Sam always has in mind. They plague him every day. After all, within the week Dean has grabbed him against his will not once, but twice.
The first time was no one’s fault. Dean hadn’t known it was Sam he was stalking in his motel room any more than Sam had known Dean was the human stalking him.
The second time was on purpose for Dean, but unexpected once more for Sam. It was a demonstration of why Sam couldn’t let his guard down, even with Dean.
It saddens him to think how dangerous his own older brother could be, just because of a curse that struck when they were children. They were so close back then.
Sometimes Sam wonders what would have happened to them if Dean had been struck by the curse as well. Or if the witch had chosen to strike at the older Winchester in the moment before their dad busted down the door.
The boots hesitate where they’d stopped. The weight on them shifts, and Sam sees a huge knee drop down from above to press into the ground.
Dean is kneeling.
It awes Sam to consider just how much power his older brother has grown into as an adult. And not just in comparison to Sam. The older Winchester goes head to head with monsters on a regular basis and always comes out on top. There are scars from these fights, scars that Sam can see better than anyone else, but still Dean lives to fight on.
Sam scrambles to his feet as kind green eyes dip down into view and Dean peers under the bed to look for him. Guilt covers the hunter’s face at the way his little brother has run from him.
Sam’s chest continues to heave from the brief scare when the green eyes land on him at last, and this makes Dean’s face soften even more. There aren’t many things that can break the stern facade that Dean Winchester keeps around him, but his little brother so afraid is one of them.
“Sammy,” he says, his voice a soft thunder of concern. “You know…” He has to pause and clear his throat. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he switches track smoothly. “You know I can see you on the ground, right? I’m not about to step on my baby brother.”
The desperate apology in those eyes surprises Sam. He never means to make Dean feel that way. It was simply a reaction, one that was instinctive when dealing with people that towered over his head and he was small enough to get pinned to the ground by a single finger.
Compared to a human, he is small and weak.
Sam wishes he can make Dean understand it isn’t his fault. It never will be. And so he tries.
First, he steps out from under cover. The safety of the bed is deceptive, anyway. The mattress can be lifted by a human like Dean without a problem. One of those hands can shoot out to grab him where he hides. More vulnerability for Sam.
Dean’s eyes track Sam’s movements, but he doesn’t make a move. It doesn’t help that whenever Dean moves, Sam flinches. Because of this, the hunter is already learning to restrain unnecessary movements.
The necessity saddens Sam.
His brother shouldn’t have to change who he is if he wants to be around his little brother without getting flinches or fear in return.
“I-I know you’re not,” Sam manages to get out as he stares up at Dean. The older hunter has flattened himself against the dusty rug so they can talk and his eyes are still above Sam’s head. Dean could put his chin against the ground and it would be the same.
Sam was too small.
“It’s just…” Sam waves his hand at the open area between the beds, trying to ignore how small it looks in comparison to his surroundings. For so long, he lived in the walls and with people his own size. Now, he is with Dean constantly, and reminded of his curse every single moment.
“You’re really big,” Sam finishes lamely, wishing he had the words.
Dean’s lips thin to a line, and Sam feels tension start to wind up his back. The sight of a giant with an intense glare like that on his face is not easy to take in at four inches in height. Dean doesn’t mean it, but his size gets in the way of an innocent look.
“Sam,” Dean said, “I know you have to be careful. I just want you to know… I won’t forget you’re here. You deserve to be able to live without being afraid all the time. I… I want to help.”
This time, it is Sam’s face that softens. He takes another step out into the open, this time completely away from the cover of the bed. “I know you do.”
He rests his small arm on one of Dean’s massive hands and uses it to lean on. That huge hand could spring up at any time and coil completely around his body.
But it doesn’t, and it won’t, and Sam knows this.
“Just watch where you toss your dirty socks,” Sam snarks up at his brother, feeling the last of the tension sloughing off at the return of their normal banter. Moments like this were when he barely even felt the size difference, and it was good. “I don’t need the nightstand smelling like dirty feet all night.” He wrinkles his nose and is rewarded with a chuckle from Dean.
No matter how different, they will always be brothers.
Which is probably why Sam finds a dirty sock lurking outside of the nightstand the next morning.
Sam wakes as the Impala comes to a stop outside of a new motel. He mumbles to himself, sitting up on the weird surface he was resting on. Wait… It isn’t just any surface he’s sitting on, it’s a shoulder. A human’s shoulder.
He freezes for a few seconds of fear before he remembers everything that happened… losing his family… agreeing – no, asking – to go with Dean to get the bastard that had killed them.
He is sleeping on his brother’s shoulder.
With this realization, Sam glances above his head. He can see the profile of Dean’s face staring out of the car as he turns the Impala off. From where he is sitting, Sam can only make out the corner of his brother’s eye, and the underside of his jaw. Sam sighs briefly at the reminder of his situation.
For years, he’s been used to living this way, smaller than a mouse, with a family that cared for him. Living like that, he’s only been occasionally reminded of what he’s lost. His daily supply runs into the motel they lived in had been the only reminders back then. But here he is, forced to confront everything he’d lost. His own brother serving as a constant reminder of his curse.
Sam is shaken from his thoughts when Dean suddenly opens up the car door and stands to his full height without warning. Sam clutches the collar of Dean’s shirt to avoid falling. He really isn’t going to get used to his brother’s immense height. It was like trying to sit on Godzilla’s shoulder. “Dean, wait!” he shouts up, surprised.
At least this Godzilla would listen to him.
Dean tilts his head, trying to catch a glimpse of Sam. “Sorry ‘bout that, Sammy. Forgot you were there.”
Sam’s breath hitches with fear at the accidental reminder of his insignificance. A huge hand reaches up, stopping right next to the shoulder. Sam stares at it for a few moments before Dean tries to get another look at him. “You’re not planning on sitting there while I check into the motel, are you?” Dean asks jokingly. His deep voice rumbles kindly around Sam, reminding him that he’s safe.
“No, no of course not!” Sam manages. That would mean other humans seeing him. Tremulously, he steps onto the huge palm, feeling the muscles twitch under his weight. It is going to be hard to adjust to sitting in a hand bigger than his entire body. As he sits there, he brushes a hand over Dean’s silver ring, wondering at the size. He can remember rings fitting in the palm of his hand, but this one is huge and thick, reflecting his image back at him. He imagines it must be wide enough for him to use as a belt now. And it fits around Dean’s finger.
The fingers shift around Sam as Dean brings the hand in front of his face. Sam freezes as soon as the big green eyes fall on him, not prepared for such an intense stare. “You mind hanging out in the pocket while I check in?” Dean asks.
“Uuhh…” Sam says nervously. “Sure, I guess.” His eyes snap down to the pocket, resting innocently against Dean’s chest. It was unreal to actually consider going in there. Humans were dangerous to people like him, yet here Sam was, perfectly safe…
Even welcomed.
The hand lowers down, coming to a rest right next to the pocket. Sam gives a slight jump when Dean’s other hand rises up, but all it does is pinch open the pocket so he can jump right in. Which he does without delay, coming to a stop at the bottom.
His head jerks up the second he lands. The pocket is almost the same height as him. If he stands he’d just barely be able to peek out.
While he gets settled, the light from above disappears. Sam glances up to see the flap of the pocket as it drops down, blocking the outside world from sight. Something huge brushes against him from the outside, making Sam jolt away in surprise until he realizes it’s just Dean’s hand. You’re safe…. it’s just Dean. He’s not gonna hurt you… he’d never hurt you…
“You alright in there, Sammy?” comes Dean’s deep voice, even more intense from how close Sam was sitting to his vocal cords.
Sam takes a second to calm himself before answering Dean. “Y-yeah, I’m good!” he calls up. He presses his hand against the outside of the pocket and touches Dean’s hand to reassure himself. And to reassure Dean.
“Well then, sit tight, kiddo. Try not to move around too much. I don’t want anyone picking up on you in here. We need to keep you off the radar.”
“Got it.” Sam pulls his legs against his chest to make himself as small as possible. Without warning, Dean’s ambling stride starts up. The swaying steps swing the pocket gently, rocking the small Winchester like a hammock. Sam isn’t bothered when it bumps into the broad chest behind him. It’s reassuring to be with Dean now. Reassuring to be with his family.
Sam slowly relaxes. He’s safe and that’s all that matters. This is where he’s meant to be.
This is home.
February 25th excerpt:
He couldn’t help but think back to when he’d first met Dean. Or rather, when he’d first caught Dean. Jacob’s hand could close easily around the small hunter, restraining his every move and keeping him in place.
No matter how hard Dean tried, he couldn’t get away.
February 23rd excerpt:
Dean narrowed his eyes, then stalked towards Jacob’s side. “You all owe me some pie after that scare,” he griped as he started to scale up the human, digging his boots into Jacob more forcefully than normal. There was no way he was going to let Sam hang out in a hand all on his own after all that.
Jacob’s eyebrows shot up as he felt the little kicks in his side from Dean’s climb. He didn’t complain, however, letting the small hunter get his point across in his own way. Dean had been in worse moods before, after all. He kept an eye on Dean’s progress, making sure he wouldn’t accidentally knock him off balance and focusing on not twitching each time a tiny boot dug into his side.
You’ll never see your brother again… this time I’ll make sure of it.
An owl hooted in the cool night air.
Tears ran grimy streaks down Sam’s cheeks. He huddled against the trunk of a tree, trying to hide as far back in the shadows as he could. The silence was only broken by the occasional sob.
Every shadow that crossed his line of sight sent a jagged spike of icy fear up his back. Leaves wafted in an invisible breeze, an idyllic, innocent scene rendered foreboding by his current circumstances.
He didn’t know exactly how big he was, but he definitely wasn’t the size he’d been before the attack.
A leaf fluttered down from the canopy above. It landed next to Sam, rustling gently in the air. The leaf alone was broad enough to block him from sight.
Young shoots of grass poking up out of the dirt were taller than he was.
With shaking, hesitant hands, Sam gripped the edge of the leaf tight and pulled it close. A cry hiccuped in his chest.
The green leaf formed a canopy of his own over his head. Sam scrunched back against the thick bark, using his leaf as a makeshift tent to hide from the sight of any nearby predators. A strident breeze tried to pull it from his grasp, but he persevered. White knuckles clenched tight.
Those animals lurking out in the forest were huge. He couldn’t even risk getting up to see where he was.
The owl hooted its call across the branches once more and Sam shut his eyes.
Dean, where are you?
Brothers Asunder is the story where Sam is adopted by the sprites, separated from Dean by more than just his size. Now, Dean has no idea where Sam is, how big he is, and no idea he survived the witch’s attack. Only the future will tell if Celeste’s plan to separate them at last will work!
February 19th excerpt:
Was that … a leather jacket?
The perplexed expression lingered on his face and he stood there, frozen, long after the small whatever-it-was had disappeared. He couldn’t even be sure he’d actually seen anything. He frowned critically at the toaster, before shrugging and heading up the stairs.
February 18th excerpt:
Dean scooped up the wires and pins into his arms and started to pack them away into his duffel. “No, I think you’re good. This is more than I asked for. I might have to start hiding the pins from Sam soon, he might throw them at me if he has to sit around much longer.”
Jacob snickered at the image of Sam tossing around pins the size of small daggers to him. They would be like slightly bulky throwing knives. “Maybe,” Jacob agreed, raising an eyebrow appraisingly at the pins as Dean stashed them away.
Brothers Apart 