Witches.
Friggin witches.
Dean and Sam were hunting a witch that loved to mess and toy around with her victims and they were close to ganking the bitch.
It didn't go exactly as planned. There was a bright flash of light and the sound of a gun and that was all Dean could remember before it all went black. After a few hours, he noticed Sam and the Witch were nowhere in sight. He got up from the bed where he was lying, and headed towards the window.
"Witches" he muttered, dryly. "Sam you better not have taken my baby." That at least would explain where Sam was. Looking out of the window, he paled and may have accidently lost control over his bladder.
It was Sam. He was gigantic… colossal even. Dean gulped as he realised what had happened. He backed up from the window and sat on the bed in the room. The witch had shrunk him, similar to her other victims, except this time he hadn't been toyed with until she got bored and squished him with her foot. And now, he was in her dollhouse. Dean didn't even think about leaving the bedroom, no doubt the whole dollhouse was booby trapped in case her victims tried to escape. He remembered the gunshot. Sam must have shot and killed the witch.
Taking a few deep breaths, Dean walked back up to the window. He had to get Sam's attention somehow, even if seeing his younger brother the size of a skyscraper was scary as hell.
"SAMMY!" He shouted as loud as he could, though Sam didn't even give any indication that he had heard him.
Right. New plan.
He kept an eye on Sam as he tried to think. Sam headed over to the dollhouse, maybe the pieces had clicked for him as well. One giant eye peered into the window after a few minutes and Dean took his chance and shouted again, waving his arms. The giant noticed him and Dean couldn't help but feel relief.
Sam opened up the dollhouse. He looked at dean with a concerned frown.
"Dean, are you alright?" He asked. Dean flinched at the volume of his voice.
"Keep it down and I'm as alright as you'd expect someone to be in this situation" he muttered. He was slightly terrified in all honesty but he would never admit that to Sam, he wouldn't even admit it to himself.
Sam went to reach for Dean but the older hunter backed out of the way.
"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked him, slightly pissed off. "We need to get out of here dean and unless you want to attempt to walk out of this house, I have to pick you up" Sam sighed and placed his hand against the dollhouse, palm up. He was asking this time and Dean could tell that. He sighed and slowly walked onto the palm in front of him. His feet kept sinking into the skin and he almost fell over due to the uneven surface a few times. He stood still in the middle of Sam's palm. This was a whole new level of weird and crazy.
Sam used all his willpower not to flinch at the tiny feet and almost weightless brother in his hand. Dean was just about the same size as his thumb, it was scary and almost adorable at the same time. Walking out of the house with the small man in his hand would look strange, so he had come up with a plan. Dean, however, kept stubbornly refusing to cooperate. Sam carefully dropped his brother into his chest pocket and left the house. It was a good thing he had driven there and had the keys; otherwise there would have been a major problem. He got into the Impala, and began the long drive back to the bunker.