January 10th excerpt:

Sherlock leaned in as Dean moved away, shifting to his knees and propping a hand on the dirty floor for stability. He was trying to emulate Dean’s line of sight as closely as he could, and puzzle out just what his small companion thought he saw down there.

A small amount of odd discoloration in the dirt along the wall had just caught his eye as Dean looked over his shoulder in annoyance. “Do you have to hover?” he griped up at Sherlock, jerking his head at his shadowed path.

Sherlock’s brow furrowed, looking more than a little offended by the complaint. While he could see he was casting a shadow over Dean, the detective gave a small huff as he pushed himself to his feet. Shoving his hands into his coat pockets, he side-stepped out of the way of the light, letting it wash over Dean and his goal, and leaned a shoulder against the nearby wall. He gave a flat look and a shrug, as if to say That enough space for you?

May 28th excerpt:

Dean stiffened, and motioned for silence. His hand went straight to his silver knife, and it was out in seconds and held at the ready. Years of being under four inches in height has taught them to prepare for anything, whether it be attack by a rat or a spider, or capture by a human.

With a motion to Sam, Dean inched forward to peer around the corner. It really did sound like the rustle of paper, like the long nights they’d spend with Dean trying to sleep and Sam up with his journal. They’d shared a room most of their lives, and the sound was a comfort when Dean couldn’t sleep.