Tag: tsotf

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October 22nd excerpt:

There it was again. Another mention of Sam and Dean’s childhood, possibly a history with other humans. Simply recalling Dean’s reference to someone dislocating Sam’s shoulder in their youth made John’s half-full stomach turn. But it didn’t take a detective to see that Sam was still quite shy and nervous around John, another human, so he filed that away for another time.

Though something in him doubted ‘another time’ would ever come.

“Can I ask where you’re from?” John ventured, trying to keep up a friendly tone. “It’s just, the accent is a little…telling.”

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October 21st excerpt:

“We’re not supposed to accept food from anyone,” Sam said, giving a valiant effort to tell John why he couldn’t just say yes. He swallowed thickly, wondering if he was ruining his one chance to have food that wasn’t snitched from the cupboards or days old. “I didn’t do anything to earn the food, and we don’t have anything we can give you for it.”

John chewed his lip while Sam talked himself in circles. To an extent, he could understand why the poor lad was reluctant to accept the offered food. He’d made a point in emphasizing that he and his brother were most certainly not pets.

Where exactly they learned that sentiment in the first place was not a thought John was prepared to have just yet. Not with more pressing matters at hand. As a doctor, John felt it was imperative for Sam and Dean to broaden their diets, which would only benefit their survivability in the long run. At the same time, he needed to make sure they didn’t feel like they were just getting handouts from the bigger folk.

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October 20th excerpt:

John started up the heat on the stove, then went to turn on the electric kettle. That’s when he noticed the saucer and froze. A small plate had been set out in the middle of the counter, one edge dotted with tiny scraps of food. John leaned over to find a raisin, a bit of cracker, a dollop of mustard, a few pieces of wheat cereal, and a raw slice of mushroom. He sighed, realizing that this was Sherlock’s idea of an experiment.

After double-checking for traps, John decided there really was no harm in it, and decided to concentrate on how best to fry the eggs and bacon as quietly as possible.

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October 19th excerpt:

“Boring,” Sherlock answered simply, digging through a pile of discarded newspapers for the bow for his instrument.

John slumped into his chair, bordering on defeat. “Explain to me how you found every single one of those cases boring.”

“Explain to me,” shot back the detective, standing up straight, “how anything could be interesting after what we discovered.”

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October 17th excerpt:

Dean tried to give Sam a grin through the glass. “See Sammy? Told ya I’d take care of it. No more cages for us.” He put a hand against the inside of the jar, and Sam instinctively placed his own against it. Even standing on the bottom of the glass jar, Dean was the shorter brother.

“Not until you’re out here, too,” Sam said.

image

Art by @lamthetwickster

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October 16th excerpt:

“My name’s John,” he stated, speaking only to Sam. “I’m a doctor. And I’m afraid I can’t let you out of my sight until I know for sure that neither of you needs medical attention. If you would let me examine you, then as long as you’re alright I will let you go on your way.”

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Dean said tartly, refusing to relent, “if I find that a little hard to believe that while I’m stuck in a jar.” He shot a glare back at where Sherlock was standing behind his friend. “We were doing fine before a certain someone decided to go all King Kong on us and stuff us into jars!”

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October 15th excerpt: 

Dean stalked from side to side in his jar, every ounce of his body just bleeding out frustration. He didn’t take his eye from Sherlock, resembling a cornered wolf more than a man with the matching snarl on his face.

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October 14th excerpt:

Sherlock moved Dean further away and dropped him into the prepared jar, releasing his grip as low as the glass would allow.

That done, he carefully placed the miniscule blade onto his freed palm. It was so small he had to squint to see any kind of detail in it, until he remembered the pocket magnifier he always kept on his person. He fished the little instrument out of his pocket and used his teeth to slide it open. The newly-uncovered lens offered a much better, if slightly distorted view of the much tinier weapon.

“Excellent workmanship,” he murmured, taking note of how impossibly fine it was. Sherlock was making an honest effort to not underestimate these miniature men, but a silver knife of that caliber seemed well outside the resources of someone shorter than a finger.

Setting the magnifier aside, Sherlock let the knife slide from his palm to the counter, a good deal away from the edge where it could get accidentally brushed away.

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October 13th excerpt:

“It was one cookie! ” came Dean’s muffled shout of protest, his voice sounding completely offended. Sam heard another thump against the side of the coffee mug and winced, imagining how hard his brother was hitting the side, yet nothing showed on the outside. The mug didn’t move a centimeter from where it was dropped over Dean.