July 21st excerpt:
Sam might have seen all this if an invisible hand hadn’t grabbed him in an unrelenting grip, tossing him heedlessly into the cage. One shoulder rammed painfully into the bars, the door slamming shut behind him and the metal melting together until there was no entrance and no door.
Trapped, with no way out.
Awesome job! You got it! And now a sneak peek at just how deep our brothers get in The Ties That Bind…
The last two stories in season two are going to break all the rules.
“Sam! I’m stuck!” Krissy wailed, covering her face. Tears streamed down her soft cheeks, making her face glisten.
The sound of her reedy cry woke Bree and Kara in the cage. In seconds, the two girls scrambled to their feet, open-mouthed shock on their faces at the sight of the rescue party come to save them.
And the panic of Krissy’s predicament made it so no one heard the rattling of a key in the door, but they all saw the door swing wide…
Panic ruled.
Walt shouted for Sam to get his knife out, shoving Sean behind him. Krissy was as trapped as Bree and Kara, her soft-soled shoes sealed to the sticky glue of the trap. She couldn’t even try to turn around to see who was coming in the room without taking the risk of falling onto the glue and getting it on her arms and in her hair.
And Sam…
Sam’s eyes widened as the strange human shoved his way into the room. Those dark eyes held only malice and contempt as they fell on him first, then expanding their view to all the small people on the table with him.
A shudder ran up Sam’s back, reacting to the danger they were in. This was a human who was nothing like Dean. A man who was everything Walt had ever warned him about. A killer without conscience just because they were a little different.
Danger followed the man into the room like a dark cloud, and a widening white smile graced that dark face. There was twisted enjoyment there, watching his quarry squirm. Helpless victims guarded by two tiny knives.
The other person that came into the room was only a shadow in Sam’s eyes as the man declared “See? Swarming like flies. Nothin’ to catchin’ them if you know what you’re doing.”
The shadow resolved into Dean, and his eyes locked onto Sam’s.
And on your first guess, you nailed it!
Jacob’s on a Road Trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days! *is shot*
Dean rubbed his face. Now that everything else was ready to go, he reached for the bible he’d placed on the vase, moving it off. Next came the vase itself, lifting away from Jacob.
Jacob watched the vase lift upwards so easily in Dean’s hand. It had taken him so much effort to barely tilt the damn thing, and here Dean was, one-handing it. It was hard not to shudder at the power that human wielded, especially with the way he stood over the table, his shadow covering its only occupant.
Stumbling backwards several steps, Jacob’s face angled upwards. The bundle of food and the bottlecap of water he’d had were both forgotten in the wake of this new change. He was tempted to bolt, but he didn’t want to take his eyes off of the towering figure in front of him. Jacob knew he had nowhere to go anyway.
“What now?” he asked cautiously, a tremor in his voice. He knew he couldn’t even hope to make demands here. Dean was in charge and they both knew it.
Dean felt his shoulders slump an infinitesimal amount at the fear directed up at him but did his best to hide it from his face. He hadn’t done anything yet aside from trap Jacob in a vase to earn any modicum of trust. He’d have to work on that.
“Now, it’s time for us to go, half-pint.” Dean reached a hand towards the small guy on the table, enveloping him within grasping fingers for the second time since they’d met. There wasn’t a chance for the kid to try and dart away.
Even if he tried, it wouldn’t do him any good. He was too small compared to Dean.
Dean lifted Jacob up, staring down at himself as he tried to figure out what he’d do with the kid while traveling. He was too small to risk being seen by any other humans… and too fragile to even risk sitting in a bag like the duffel.
The chest pocket on his jacket provided the answer. Dean flipped open the flap of the pocket and judged the size of the fabric enclosure compared to the person in his hand. If anything, Jacob was small enough to fit with room to spare. Perfect.
Dean gave a sigh as he lowered a struggling Jacob into the pocket. “It’ll be safer in here. That way no one else will see you.” His fingers released the kid, dropping him the last inch down. Just to be safe, Dean buttoned the pocket up. He didn’t want to risk the kid trying to jump down from so high up. If he didn’t notice a foolhardy stunt like that in time, he could get seriously injured or hurt.
Before heading out, Dean swept the remainder of the pizza that Jacob had left on the table in a hand and chucked it at the trash in the room. He was already swinging his duffel onto his back before it ever landed so he didn’t notice the way it bounced off of the rim and onto the floor.
Long strides carried him out of the room.
Ding ding ding, you got it!
#dow is Dean of Wellwood, and now all we’ve got is #don and #bofa before all (current) stories for that particular AU have names!
I’ll add it to the FAQ in a bit. For now, you’ve earned a sneak peek!
As though a sudden breeze picked up, the knights took to the air in a flurry of leafy wings. They were flashes of leafy green that fell into formation with Scar at their head, leading a spiral of knights upwards.
Mere seconds later, the spiral broke apart. What looked like a loss of formation quickly shifted into knights scattering into groups of four or five and darting up towards different trees surrounding the village. Some were lost among the leaves and still others were easily marked circling around with their eyes focused on their adversary:
Dean.
The first knight darted towards Dean from the side, and soon after another from a different group swept into the village. Like the ticking of a clock, knights dashed into closer quarters with the human, following the tactics Scar had signaled to them. Determination filled every one of them as they closed in to swarm around the giant.
Dean brought his arms close to guard against any attacks. The sprites moved different from any opponent he’d ever faced, so before lashing out with his own strike, Dean’s intent green eyes watched how they flowed through the air. The rest of the surroundings dropped away from the fighters and ceased to exist.
After Dean had marked the position of the different groups in his mind to keep track during the flurry, he focused on one that was closer to his right side. The second they were within reach, his arm swept forward with the intent to snatch them out of the air.
The knight, one of the younger members, let out a quiet noise of alarm. He attempted to veer off course, but the adrenaline in his body and the sudden jelly-like feeling in his wings prevented him. His sword dropped to the ground below as fingers the size of his body coiled around and trapped him in a fist. His wings were engulfed along with him, and just like that his fight was over; there was no escape from Dean’s grasp.
“Do not falter,” Scar barked in warning as the other knights watched one of their number disappear into one of Dean’s pockets. If their hearts hadn’t already been pounding, they would have begun.
Dean wasn’t only big. He was fast.
June 13th excerpt:
His hand was around the kid in seconds, plucking him free of the edge. Dean lifted Jacob up to his eyes. “What in the world were you thinking?” he demanded.
Jacob blinked rapidly, as always a little dazed with how quickly he moved in Dean’s grasp. He was getting used to it, which was weird all by itself, but he still had a ways to go. In the meantime, it took him a few seconds to put together a coherent response to Dean’s question.
“I was thinking I’d get to the floor,” he answered, a little cheek and a lot of dizziness in his tone.
( Original post )
^^; Dean, you heard them. Let him out!
Jacob definitely agrees. He isn’t fond of being stuck in a drawer, no matter how cozy a giant flannel might be for sleeping on. He’s trapped in there!
May 24th excerpt:
More light broke in at the bottom as the mug tilted slowly upwards. Jacob paused, then crouched low to peek cautiously out from under the mug. He blinked a few times to readjust to the light, and made sure no one else was around. He sighed in quiet relief when he only saw Dean peering in at him.
A large green eye blinked back at Jacob, then vanished as the human sat back up from his hunched over position. The slit of light around Jacob’s knees widened, then the cup lifted up into the air as Dean let him out.
May 6th excerpt:
“Somebody help me out of here!” Bowman shouted, twisting in his cramped confinement. The paper around him shifted and rolled, but instead of staying where he turned over, it rolled over once, twice …
And right over the edge of the surface it was on.
Bowman yelped, squirming even more as he plummeted. The falling sensation tightened in his chest and buzzed in his limbs. He couldn’t get his wings open. His heart pounded at the thought that he could be falling from a deadly height.
And he couldn’t get his wings open.
Warning: contains violence and brief descriptions of extreme pain
( x )
By the time he saw light again, Oscar’s tears had stopped once more. The human opened his hand and let Oscar roll harshly onto a new surface, where he lay exhausted for an extra second. The metal was cool to the touch.
“Just a mark for this one,” the gruff human announced. That led Oscar to notice the other human in the room.
“Got it,” they said. It was a much meeker human, but they were no less terrifying. Oscar could only see their back so far as they fiddled with something opposite where he lay. He brushed at his eyes with the heel of his hand. Even curiosity was a foreign emotion now. All he knew was fear and resignation.
The room was fairly small, by human standards. Oscar sat on a metal workbench that took up most of one wall. The man who’d carried him in leaned against the frame of an archway leading out one way, a bored look on his face. Another archway led out directly across the room, a trek of several minutes for Oscar but barely two strides for a human.
He didn’t have his climbing hook or his bag, not since Noriko took it away. Oscar didn’t even entertain the notion of trying to climb down. He had nowhere to go.
There was a lamp illuminating where he sat, but Oscar frowned at the human who had his back turned, working away at something on another workbench. There was a faint orange glow over there.
When they turned, they held a long metal rod in one gloved hand. Oscar’s eyes widened and he tried to scoot backwards on the table as the other human’s eyes fell on him. It only took them a few steps to saunter over, smirking down at him.
“Lord, he’s a little one. He’ll barely fit,” they mused. The human’s free hand left their side and descended towards Oscar’s cowering form, and he squeaked in terror. The hand might have blocked the sight of the tool they held in their other hand, but it couldn’t erase the memory of the heat haze coming off of it.
“N-no, please!” Oscar begged, but a finger and thumb pinched around him. He pushed at them, but they turned him over as if he hadn’t moved at all. He squirmed and kicked the best he could, but he was no match.
The human had done this before. Their hand settled over him, their heavy thumb pressing his legs down into the cold metal table. Other fingertips pinned his upper arms down, and his elbows didn’t have a good angle to try and push them away. Oscar’s face was pressed into the table and he could only see the human out of the corner of his eye. A fingertip shoved the hem of his shirt up and the cold air chilled his back like a hundred little needles.
There was a movement of glowing red in the corner of his eye. Warmth replaced the cold.
And then agonizing heat and pain replaced everything. Oscar screamed.
His voice was thready and broken, and he swore his skin sizzled as that hot metal made contact. His mind, in a panic, could only focus on the pain and the contact of the metal on his skin. It didn’t even last a second, and yet he felt like several minutes went by before there was nothing touching him but the table beneath him.
“What the hell?” the gruff human said. Oscar didn’t even flinch. He lay there, suddenly more exhausted than he’d ever been in his life, with his head pounding and his back stinging in the open air.
“I … The rod cooled off,” the smaller human stammered. Their voice was muffled by the throb of pain in Oscar’s head and on his back. “Must … must not have heated it up enough.”
“Well, now his mark’ll be uneven unless you’re more careful,“ the gruff human warned. “We can just hope Carson don’t notice. Just take care of it.”
“Right,” the other human said.
Oscar could hear more metal clattering behind him. He wanted to push himself up and at least try to crawl to safety. Instead, his muscles did nothing but quiver after all the strain. He blinked a few tears away and they fell onto the table. Even hearing those footsteps cross back toward him couldn’t convince his body to run.
The hand returned, pinning him down like before. Oscar finally struggled, but he was even weaker than before. This time, when the radiant heat reached him, it was like it clawed right into the first burn before the red-hot metal actually touched him. His scream pitched upwards. It was too much.
Another eternity with that hot metal against his skin went by. Then, just as the human removed it and cool air swarmed over it, Oscar lost consciousness again.
It’s been a while since we last checked in on poor little Oscar in the Sad Oscar AU. Where we left off, he was on a plane, shipped off to who-knows-where. What’s on the other side of that trip?
( x )
From the second the plane landed, there wasn’t a still moment. After the rough turbulence of the plane taxiing back onto solid ground, Oscar’s prison was handed off multiple times. Callous voices gave instructions in loud tones. The light filtering through his air holes flickered and shifted, but Oscar lost track of how many doors and windows he passed. All of his effort went to curling up in a corner of his box.
His stomach hurt. His ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton. His head was pounding.
He was very, very lost. Even coming down from way up in the sky didn’t change that.
Whoever held his box for the latest car ride hadn’t said a word. They tapped the top occasionally, drumming on his cage with fingers bigger than his body. Oscar’s eyes were already puffy and stinging from so many shed tears, but a few more leaked down his face anyway.
They were in a city. He could hear it. Other cars rumbled by his current transportation, honking or screeching tires. People called to each other, thunderous voices muffled outside the car.
When it came to a stop, Oscar braced for movement like so many times before. There was an explosion of city noise as the door opened, though it was farther away from the worst of it. An almost smoky smell reached him, but he didn’t pay it any mind. Soon, he knew, the box would open up. Those fingertips tapping on the lid would dive in to snatch him up. Another human to look him over.
Just like Noriko. Just like Mina. He had been nothing more than a possession in their hands, and it wouldn’t stop now.
More walking, and a door closed behind them to seal off the sound of the city. Oscar sniffled and wished he knew how to prepare. It never became less terrifying. Humans were huge and powerful, and always did what they wanted no matter how he struggled.
“Ah, you’re back,” a voice greeted. It was deeper, male-sounding, but also smooth. Oscar didn’t recognize the accent, but he recognized the tone. People like that came and went at his old motel home. This human was a salesman.
Oscar’s carrier grunted an affirmative. The box jostled and then fell still as they set it down. Oscar barely had time to realize it before the lid came off at last and a bright light flooded in.
After the light, a human hand followed.
It didn’t wrap around him. Instead, a finger and thumb snared the front of his shirt. Oscar gasped as he was yanked upwards, lifting high over a table so the two men could look him over.
The man who held him ignored his squirms and attempts to cling to his fingers. Instead, he grinned at his friend. “I love it when Noriko gets these little things all ready. Does half our work for us, she does.”
“And for the same low price,” the other remarked. Oscar squeezed his eyes shut and tried to cling tighter, but the man never noticed his distress.
He snickered instead. “Love it when the yanks find ‘em. Alright, this one’s looking like he’d get a high bid, so be bloody careful, yeah? Young ones always bring in more but not if they’re damaged..”
Damaged? Oscar opened his eyes in time for the pinch on his shirt to release. He choked on a yelp of terror, only for his fall to end as quickly as it began. He was back in the first human’s hand.
“Full processing?” the human asked, casually curling a thumb inward to prevent Oscar from sitting up or rolling over on his palm.
The salesman eyed Oscar for a moment. Oscar trembled under that gaze; it was just like Mina’s. Cold and calculating. The smirk didn’t reach his eyes. “Nah. We can hold off for now, just take him to get a mark. I’ve heard this one’s very well behaved already.”
Oscar trembled as the chilling words sank in, and then his captor’s hand curled closed over him. He pushed against the fingers in alarm, but they didn’t even slow. He found himself squashed in their grip, completely immobile, while they walked somewhere else. His arms were pinned awkwardly to his chest and his legs were almost crushed in that grip.
Despite having cried off and on for most of his harrowing flight, Oscar found more tears in him as he was carried along. A heavy, thudding pulse pounded all around him, and the human’s body heat created beads of sweat on his forehead. The man’s calluses were rough against his own skin, but Oscar couldn’t avoid them no matter how he struggled.
He was so tired.
Brothers Apart 