Last short story for the moment!
Brothers Saved is far from over, so be sure to stay tuned for this AU! It has stories planned with both @neonthewrite and @borrowedtimeandspace, and I’ve slowly been working through their future relationship with each other and John (you can find a quick peek of that here).
So there’s plenty more coming! In the meantime, I’m still looking for prompts for this story, so feel free to send them in!
Dean had grown somewhat adjusted to the heights he saw constantly from Sam’s hands, but he felt he might never adjust to being so easily picked up and moved around by his younger brother.
When Sam stood, he had Dean standing in one hand and the other hand was occupied by the flashlight they had used to attempt to probe the inside of the walls with. Unfortunately, the entrance to the walls was too small for the flashlight or Sam to fit, and Dean could only make out the details to the edge of the area the light filled. Beyond that was solid darkness, where anything could be lurking.
Though he had a silver knife and his colt, Dean didn’t want to chance getting attacked by any rats or pests in the walls while he was unprepared, and Sam was already anxious about the entire idea of Dean exploring out of sight, so he had decided to pass up the chance and instead stick with Sam to watch some cartoons while they waited around the house.
John and Bobby were out again, but their trips to try and track the witch down grew shorter and shorter as time went on. The trail had grown cold and no new evidence had been found.
It was as though, after laying her curse on Dean and being thwarted from doing the same to Sam, she had given up her attack on the Winchesters and vanished into the wind.
From the last update they’d received, Bobby would be returning that night. He had other cases to deal with, and other hunters clamoring for help with research. Due to Dean’s delicate situation, Bobby had essentially closed for business with the others temporarily, not wanting to chance the tiny teenager being mistaken by a hunter as a threat and…
Dean shut down that line of thought. It wasn’t going to happen, so he shouldn’t dwell on it.
With everything on his mind, Dean was almost able to ignore the fact that Sam had to go down the stairs to get to the room with the TV. Dean was solidly convinced that anyone would be wary of the way the ground rushed up at them while the ten-year-old kid went downstairs. At only a few inches tall, Dean ended up clinging to Sam’s nearby thumb for balance and security. As usual, Sam said nothing about it and merely curled it around Dean’s waist for a better grip.
Adjustments like this were almost becoming second nature.
When they arrived downstairs, Sam stuck the flashlight on the coffee table and grabbed the remote instead. As he clicked the TV on, he flopped down onto the couch and kicked up his feet.
Dean didn’t much expect when the surface he was on went sideways. Sam’s grip remained secure throughout the transition, but Dean’s stomach flipped and he clung tight.
When everything fell still, Sam gently uncoiled his hand from around Dean, finding his brother ghost white and attached to his thumb. Lifting his hand to try and dissuade Dean from hanging on, Sam looked at him in concern. “You okay?”
When Dean didn’t answer, Sam had to bring his second hand over and gently wind a finger under Dean’s arms and carefully pry him off. When the finger he was gripping vanished from between his hands, Dean blinked rapidly, coming back to himself with a gasp when he realized he’d been holding his breath.
“What was that?! ” Dean burst out indignantly.
Sam shrugged, his shoulders awkwardly situated against the couch cushion. “Just getting ready for the show.”
Dean jabbed a finger at Sam. “Next time you want to pull something like that, give me some warning. Geeze.”
With that, Dean collapsed backwards, laying down and staring up at the ceiling far over his head. Sam eyed him for a few seconds to make sure no further outbursts were incoming, then returned his attention to the TV and began to flip through channels to search out the cartoons that usually aired this late in the afternoon.
Considering how shaken Dean was from Sam’s quick drop to the couch, it was understandable that it took him several minutes to realize the surface he was on wasn’t flat, or solid the way the coffee table would have been. In fact, it was remarkably comfortable, and heated.
When Dean realized it was also moving, he jolted to his feet in shock and stumbled to see where he was.
Distracted from the show by Dean’s sudden movements, Sam blinked at him in confusion. “Show’s on,” he reminded Dean, gesturing at the TV.
“The show’s on?” Dean repeated in disbelief. “The show’s on.” He stomped a foot into Sam’s chest, the place he’d been casually deposited minutes before. “Whatever happened to personal space, dude?”
Sam grinned at that, hardly paying attention now that he knew why Dean was indignant. “Thought you’d like to be somewhere we can talk,” he pointed out tiredly, glancing between Dean and the TV set. The show was obviously drawing at his attention more. “Can’t hear you on the coffee table.”
“Yeah… well…” Dean didn’t have a ready comeback for that. He had to settle with “Next time, warn me before you just drop me here!”
Sam poked Dean in the side. “The good part’s coming on,” he reminded Dean. “You don’t want to miss it.”
Dean sent Sam a look, but couldn’t help glancing back at the TV. Sam wasn’t the only one who enjoyed a good episode of Sonic, even if Dean rarely admitted it.
“Fine,” Dean said in a huff, sitting down in aggravation. “Just because I can’t have you using any more excuses for not listening.”
Sam smiled, relaxing into the couch. He wouldn’t admit it out loud to Dean, considering the situation his older brother was in, but it was nice to have the couch to himself, with plenty of room to stretch.
“Whatever you say, Dean.”