Tag: tiny!sam

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Oh, man. Can you see Sam dealing with a hyperactive squirrel version of his brother? Especially since he isn’t his moose self, like on the show. If he can get Dean to sit still for a few minutes, he could always hitch a ride on the squirrel. They could have an adventure together.

…But if they want to get Dean back to normal, they should call Bobby. Especially since neither of them can now drive the Impala. Yep, definitely call Bobby. And deal with Dean’s constant bitching about anyone else finding out that he’s now a squirrel

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Dean Rescues Sam

BA Canon: No || AU

Timeline: 1993 (Dean is 14; Sam is 10)

(Part 3 of 4)

Dean tried to ignore the argument as he sullenly got ready for school, shoving an extra notebook into his backpack. It wasn’t like he was going to be in the school long enough to actually learn anything. What the hell was the point?

John glared down at his younger son, who was doing his best to stand his ground on the table. At only two and a half inches tall, a glare like that wasn’t easy to look into without flinching.

“Dad, it’s just school,” Sam protested. “How can I keep up if I stay in the motel all day?”

“It’s not safe,” John said grimly. “What if someone sees you? It’s not a risk you’re taking. You’ll be safer back here with me. When Dean gets back he can fill you in on what he learned.”

Sam rolled his eyes, knowing as well as Dean did that his older brother rarely paid attention long enough in class to soak up the lessons. John’s eyes narrowed. “Sam…”

“Fine,” Sam snapped. He kicked the pen that was left near him on the table. “I’ll stay,” he finished in a mumble.

John nodded sharply. He spotted Dean, still standing in the shadow of the bathroom. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he snapped. The recent reveal of his younger son’s curse had left his patience thin. Dean and Sam were both treading on thin ice constantly.

Dean didn’t say a word, just swung his backpack onto his shoulders. He tried to give Sam a reassuring glance, I’ll be back soon, but Sam refused to meet his gaze. Great, Dean thought. Bad enough he had to leave the two of them alone. Worse that neither of them was happy with him.

John grabbed a set of clothing, stomping into the bathroom. “Make sure the door is locked behind you!” he shouted at Dean, paying no mind to the way Sam flinched at the loud noise.

Dean shuffled his way out of the room, trying to draw out the time until he left.

He was so withdrawn into himself that he never noticed the weight that slipped into his pocket when he passed by the table.

( Part 1 || Part 2 )

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The Cat

BA Canon: No

Timeline: After The Schism of Fire and Water

Original Post: Sam Verses Cat ( you wanted Dean, here he comes! This will be a little bonus prompt )

( Part 2 of 2 )

Dean shoved the plates and silverware set up on the table out of his way, gently laying Sam down on a dishcloth. “Hang on, Sammy,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of that for you.”

Sam groaned, trying to sit up. “Dean…” he gritted out. “Cat…”

“I took care of it. Don’t worry, it can’t reach you, pint-size.” Carefully, Dean pushed on Sam’s chest, forcing him to lie still. “Just give me a minute. I need to grab supplies.”

Sam sagged back down, letting Dean take over. His eyes fluttered closed, and for a second Dean panicked until he saw the small chest move up and down. Only then did he get up. Supplies… he needed supplies. He hadn’t brought supplies in with him. Something to disinfect the slashes, something to wrap them up with. It would be impossible to give Sam stitches.

Shoving away the panic welling in him, Dean opened up the door again. The cat was waiting outside and tried to shove its way past him. Angrily, Dean grabbed it by the scruff of its neck. He locked the cat up in the kitchen. The people who owned the house would be back soon enough, they could let it out.

The bathroom next to the kitchen had a first aid kit. He grabbed it and ran back to the dining room. Sam was still slumped down, only this time he was unconscious. Dean cursed under his breath.

With great care, he removed the jacket Sam had on, wincing at the slashes that raked the back. Another jacket down for Sam…

Dean gently dropped it to the side, then had to take off the tiny t-shirt his brother had on. He maneuvered the small, fragile arms so they didn’t get caught as he stripped it off. Sam’s body was limp as Dean held him up, shifting his brother so he was lying facedown on the hand.

Four bright red lines stretched across the hunter’s lean back. Blood caked every part of him, more welling up as Dean watched. Hurriedly, he pressed a wet rag against the cuts, wiping off the blood and covering them up while he got an alcohol pad ready. “This is going to hurt,” he warned his brother’s unconscious form before pressing it against the cuts.

Knocked out or not, Sam writhed in pain at the contact. Dean bit his lip, forcing himself to not move. He stroked it down the cuts, cleaning off more blood and sterilizing the wounds. Dabbing a wet paper towel against Sam’s back cleaned off the rest of the blood before he decided to try wrapping it.

With one hand occupied, Dean had to use his teeth to rip the gauze and start unraveling it. Once he had enough, he put a sterile cloth against Sam’s back and began to steadily wrap the gauze around the other hunter, trying to avoid making it too tight. He sighed when he was finished, carefully checking his work to make sure he’d covered the full injury.

Sam started to shiver, from cold and blood loss. Dean cupped him against his chest. “It’s okay, Sammy. You’re gonna be okay, I promise.”

( Part 1 )

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The Cat

BA Canon: No

Timeline: After The Schism of Fire and Water

Original Post: Sam Verses Cat ( you wanted Dean, here he comes! This will be a little bonus prompt )

( Part 1 of 2 )

Dean paced through the house, searching for any sign of a spirit. The EMF reader was silent in his hand as he went, taunting him with its silence.

Dean grumbled, hitting it on the side in annoyance. Was it acting up? Surely there was a spirit at work…

His thoughts trailed off when at the edge of hearing he heard a cat yowl. Dread started to creep up on him.

Sam was in that direction.

Dean sprinted down the hall, almost skidding past the door that the noises were coming from. To his great relief, the cat wasn’t sitting there with a bloody set of clothes in its claws, but it was trying to swipe at something hidden behind the cabinet.

Dean stalked over, grabbing the cat by the nape of its neck and hauling it off the ground. He tossed it out of the room, sealing the door shut. Upset meows made it through the wooden door.

Putting that out of his mind, Dean walked carefully over to the cabinet to see what the cat had trapped. Getting down on his knees, he dug out his flashlight and shone it into the crack.

A small, huddled form flinched away from him and the light, a tiny silver knife at the ready. “Sammy,” Dean breathed. “Thank god you’re okay.”

There was no answer to his voice, no sign that Sam even heard him. Dean’s brow furrowed in concern. “Sam,” he tried again. “Can you walk? I can’t reach you back there.”

With no response still, Dean was getting worried. “Alright,” he muttered to himself. “I’m gonna assume that means you can’t come out here on your own. Hang on, kid.”

Getting up, Dean grabbed the dishware on top of the cabinet, dropping it all on the table. He gripped the side of the cabinet, shifting it away from the wall to put Sam in reach.

The moment Sam was in sight, Dean stooped to pick him up. Before the older hunter could react, a cold metal blade slashed at his hand, Sam lashing out in a panic.

“Crap, Sam. It’s me!” Dean hissed. He stuck his thumb in his mouth for a second for the bleeding, snatching at Sam with his other hand. The fingers curled around the small hunter, trapping the knife-wielding arm between Dean’s index finger and middle finger.

Dean gently pried the knife from Sam’s grip. “Sammy, it’s me. It’s just Dean. You’re safe, I promise. That cat’s nowhere near us right now. I took care of it.”

After a few minutes of cajoling, Sam finally peered up at Dean. His small eyes were wide, panicked. The look of a hunted animal. “D-Dean?” he stuttered out.

“That’s right. Just me.” Dean took a seat at the dining room table, unfurling his fingers.

The reason for Sam’s panic was revealed.

Blood coated Dean’s hand where it had wrapped around Sam’s back.

“Fuck.”

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Dean Rescues Sam

BA Canon: No || AU

Timeline: 1993 (Dean is 14; Sam is 10)

(Part 2 of 4)

The first thing Sam became aware of was the rushing of the ocean.

The world shifted with him, gently rising and falling like the tides. Sam’s eyes fluttered for a moment, then settled closed again. The warmth that surrounded him on all sides was soothing and calming. A pulse beat through him, inviting him back to sleep.

Slowly awareness began to return. Flashes and visions hit his mind. The door, breaking down. Dean shouting. A flash of light… and then nothing. Cold eyes framed by blonde hair stared ruthlessly down at him as the blast hit.

That did it.

Sam startled awake with a shout, throwing his arms up defensively. The ground under him stopped moving suddenly, the gentle rise and fall freezing completely.

Sam gasped in a breath, trying to remember what had happened. Where he was.

“Sammy?” came a groggy voice. It rumbled under him this time, making up his entire world.

In the darkness of the room, shapes started to coalesce. Lurking, powerful monuments. Looming figures. His pulse went up as he realized he had no idea where he was.

“D-Dean?” he called out cautiously. At least the voice was familiar if the sensation of the booming volume it talked in wasn’t.

The ground under him started to shift. “Lemme get a light,” Dean mumbled.

Sam froze as what it all meant started to sink in.

The light snapping on overhead gave his horror form. He wasn’t sleeping on the ground. The ocean waves weren’t bobbing him up and down.

He was on Dean.

Sam was crouched on Dean’s chest, the older boy only partially awake as he rubbed at his eyes. And Dean didn’t seem surprised at the fact that his younger brother, less than three inches tall, was on his chest.

Sam watched the massive arms soar overhead as Dean yawned. With his eyes closed for that one fatal second, Dean didn’t see the panic rise in Sam’s eyes. He missed the small body tense.

Sam bolted.

Within seconds, Sam was sliding down the sheet Dean was lying under. His mind was speeding through priorities. Find Dean, find Dad, get away from any giants. Nothing in him would allow the thought that the giant he’d left behind was, in fact, Dean, and that John would be even more gargantuan.

Dean shouted in surprise. “Sammy, wait!”

Sam tried to dodge a hand that grabbed at him, but it was so much faster that the fingers closed relentlessly around him before he could escape. He struggled, trying to dig out the knife Dean had given him a few months ago. If he’d ever needed protection, now was the time.

Dean was too fast for him again. Those fingers sealed Sam’s arms to his sides, keeping him helpless.

Sam trembled as he was lifted into the air, staring up at the huge eyes of his captor. Dean’s expression softened at the fear in his brother’s eyes. The fingers uncurled, setting Sam free on his palm. “Sam, it’s me, I promise. It’s Dean. You got hit by that witch, but I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Minutes stretched out, an eternity of time. Sam’s breathing started to slow enough for him to catch sight of the rest of the room around them. A room that was made for Dean’s size. Not Sam’s.

He huddled down into the hand, terrified of everything around him. In the blink of an eye his entire world was torn away, replaced with massive monuments, towering structures he would never reach. Even a light switch was beyond his grasp.

Everything but Dean.

The hands shifted with him, cupping him against a tall chest. The rushing sound of the ocean filled Sam’s ears once more. The sound of his brother’s immense breaths, moving through lungs that now dwarfed all of Sam. He shuddered again as he let himself cower into the safety Dean provided simply by being there.

“Dean, what happened? What’s gonna happen to me?”

( Part 1 )

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No, it wouldn’t be. He’s the perfect size for prey, after all, and cats are fast bastards. It may come up in the future, it may not. I do have little drabbles around the idea floating around, of course.

A rumbling growl came from behind Sam, giving him seconds to react before a large paw swiped through where he’d been standing. With a cry, Sam dove to the side. His knife was out in an instant, falling naturally into the defensive grip Dean had shown him. Surprised hazel eyes took in the sight of the massive tabby cat that was stalking him.

Sam shivered at the hungry stare in its eyes as he backed away. The cat recovered from its miss, crouching down and preparing to pounce.

“Crap,” Sam muttered. The one time Dean was out of sight.

This time, the paw slammed right into him. He rolled across the floor, his jacket with four slashes down the side. Biting pain hit, and he knew he was bleeding. Before the cat could finish him off, he finished his roll and stumbled behind the cabinet along the wall. He barely made it far enough back that the cat couldn’t reach him. The paw scrapped threateningly along the ground as it tried to finish off its kill.

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Dean Rescues Sam

BA Canon: No || AU

Timeline: 1993 (Dean is 14; Sam is 10)

(Part 1 of 4)

Dean growled, trying to get free of the wall. “You bitch,” he spat angrily. “What did you do to him?!”

The witch smirked, her long, lustrous blonde hair wafting in the air as the spell she’d hit Sam with started to die down. “You’ll soon find out,” she said with the deadly hiss of a promise. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Her chanting started again. Struggling, Dean’s eyes went wide as her hand, clawed around the air, lifted up in preparation to hit him.

Before she could get the blast off, someone slammed against the door. It shuddered. John Winchester’s voice could be heard outside the door. “I’m coming boys!”

“Damn,” the witch snarled. “Better make this quick.” She held up the hand again, preparing the spell.

The door shattered. John barreled in, tackling the witch without taking a breath. He slammed into her, knocking her away from Dean with a shriek.

Dean hit the ground, falling straight down from where he’d been pinned up over three feet in the air. He moaned, certain he’d broken something.

The groan tapered off when his eyes landed on something right next to the battling hunter and the witch. Something small, in familiar colors. Dean almost gasped.

Sammy!

He crawled over to the prostrate from. His brother was less than four inches tall, curled up in a tiny ball and shuddering in pain. Sam’s shudders increased as Dean lifted him off of the ground. Or maybe it was his hands that were shaking.

Dean was yanked off his feet without warning, John shoving him out of the door. His fingers curled protectively around his brother. “D-dad…” he stuttered. He had no idea what to do.

“Get in the car, Dean!”

A gunshot sounded out. A shrieking laugh was heard. The witch vanished before the bullet hit her. John held the gun in front of him as he backed away.

Dean got into the front seat of the Impala, holding his tiny brother against his chest. Sam had gone motionless, slumped across his fingers. “It’s okay, Sammy. I gotcha,” he whispered even as John dove into the driver’s seat and started it up. The car screeched out of the parking lot.

“Everything will be okay, Sam. I promise.”

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Ant Man

BA Canon: No

Timeline: 2015 (10 years after they reunite for the first time)

(Part 2 of 2)

Dean pulled the Impala up to the movie theater at half past nine. He couldn’t stop himself from sending a fleeting glance down at his pocket, where Sam had agreed to go in order to keep their final destination a surprise.

He got out of the car, eager to get a move on. The ticket for the movie had already bought online, that way Sam wouldn’t overhear Dean ordering it when they got in. It only took him a few minutes at the ticket kiosk to figure out how to print the thing, and he was now getting the hang of the newer technologies like that. Sam took every advantage he could to tease Dean about his stubborn insistence on keeping things simple, but there were certainly perks to the more modern innovations.

With the ticket in one hand, and a massive container of popcorn and a extra large soda in the other hand (along with candy shoved into an unoccupied pocket), Dean headed for the theater. He tried to ignore the look one of the women there gave him, pushing it away as best he could and sending a You better appreciate what I’m giving up look down at his chest pocket.

Once in the theater itself, he took stock of their surroundings. So far, there was just a couple sitting near the front of the rows, involved with each other so much they never even noticed him coming in.

He immediately went to the top row, finding himself a secluded spot in the corner. He covered the nearby seats with his snacks and sat with his boots stretched out as obnoxiously as he could manage on top of the seats in front of him. Rude or not, he wasn’t planning on anyone sitting nearby. That would completely ruin his idea for the night. That was why they were at one of the last showings of the night, after the movie had been out for over a month. More than once, he’d caught Sam watching the movie previews longingly when they came on, and he’d slowly realized that it was one of the only superheros that Sam actually had things in common with.

And so, movie night to see Ant Man.

The next ten minutes waiting for the previews to start was more stressful than he’d expected. Anytime someone strayed near the seats he’d taken over, they were treated his trademark glare. Not many people could stand up to it, especially if they didn’t need to. Sam was one of those rare few who was unaffected, of course, along with most of Dean’s close friends.

The movie previews started and Dean deemed it safe to bring out his brother. Sam’s peaceful relaxation in the pocket was interrupted by three fingers snaking inside to lift him out without warning. He didn’t voice a word of complaint, too distracted by the sights around him. After ten years, he wasn’t bothered by the way Dean could haul him around on a whim. They both had a deep trust of the other that no one had ever managed to break.

Not for lack of trying.

As Dean brought him over to the arm of the chair, Sam finally broke his amazed silence. “Dean, are we actually…”

“What?” Dean cut him off gruffly. “You don’t think I’d forget to bring my little brother to see Ant Man, do you? What kind of brother do you think I am?” He shook his head with a smirk, glad to see the growing smile on Sammy’s face. “Just relax and enjoy yourself. If you feel anyone looking at you, give me a nudge. I’ll take care of everything.”

He settled back into his own seat and left a hand next to Sam. Sam used it as a backrest, stretching out his legs along the armrest he was sitting on.

The movie started up, casting the entire theater into darkness. Sam jolted at first at the volume of the speakers but was too enthralled by the screen the moment it started up. He didn’t even have to ask when he wanted a kernel of popcorn, Dean already prepared to hand it off. The buttery goodness coated both of his hands. Sam wrinkled his nose as he hefted it up and found a napkin shoved in his direction, Dean’s eyes glued to the screen even as he held it out.

By the time they reached Ant Man’s first time shrinking and the sight of giant, stomping feet, Dean’s eyes were wider than Sam’s as he saw what his brother saw everyday in a larger than life screen. Sam barely even flinched at that part, more disturbed by the thought of the swarming ants.

Eventually, the salty popcorn had him digging out his tinfoil cup from his satchel, getting a drop of soda from Dean. It took Dean a few tries to manage it, eventually just using the straw to funnel a drop into the bitty cup.

No one caught sight of Sam the entire time. His shoulders only stiffened up once, the feeling of a distant gaze only lightly touching him before it settled on Dean. A woman was sizing up the older hunter with consideration in her eyes. Dean didn’t acknowledge her, merely cupping his hand so Sam was out of sight until she turned to watch the movie again.

The ending credits came on and the lights turned on. Sam slipped up Dean’s arm, hiding between his neck and the collar with the new brightness around them. Like that, they waited patiently for the ending scene as other moviegoers strolled by and left the theater.

A small voice piped up near Dean’s ear. “Not the worst idea you’ve ever had,” Sam told him.

Dean smirked and shrugged his shoulder just enough to make Sam tumble against him. “You can be jealous of my awesome ideas. We’ll have to try this one again sometime. Maybe get a slushy or something.”

( Part 1 )

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