Dean climbed out of the Impala when they finally reached the house. It was an old, Victorian style home. The front of the house was surrounded by manicured shrubbery, trimmed to perfection. Past them was a small garden of flowers, in the full bloom of spring with daffodils, daisies, tulips and even a few sunflowers standing tall over the rest of the garden. Everything was so calm and peaceful, it didn't seem a likely place for a woman to disappear.

He glanced over at Sam. "So, I was thinking we could try calling the girls cell phone, see if we can hear where it's stashed away. Might give us a good starting point."

Sam got out of the car, sticking the keys in his pocket. "Yeah, sounds like as good a place as any. I'm gonna grab the EMF meter too. See if there's anything lurking around out of sight."

"Sounds like a plan."

They went up to the house together, Dean covering Sam while he picked the lock to get in. The street the house was on was fairly deserted, with only three other houses anywhere near, and each of those was out of sight from their current position. The trees in the area were thick, with the underbrush keeping the view from each house limited. Still, he knew from experience though that letting your guard down at any time would just get you in a world of hurt.

He heard the door lock catch, and slipped in behind Sam. The door closed quietly behind them. The house hadn't been touched yet by the family, since she had only disappeared the other day, everything left alone for the police to investigate. The cops didn't think it was the scene of a crime yet, luckily, since there was no sign of anything out of place. No signs of any struggle either. It was becoming more and more likely it was their kind of thing. A lot of times ghosts left no traces. Not even a drop of blood. So no one was watching the place, and it wasn't sealed up.

Past the entranceway hall, they found themselves in a large dining room. There was a large, sturdy table in the center, with the dishes from the dinner she'd been preparing still sitting there from before her vanishing. Large cabinets lined the opposite wall from them, washcloths draped across the top. From the look of things, she had been cleaning the house while she was cooking. Sam pulled out the EMF meter and started scanning. Aside from a few low level blips, there was nothing to indicate the presence of anything supernatural.

They made their way through the house to the backyard. Standing on the porch, Dean surveyed the yard for any apparent threats (giant, house sized kitties among them) before they stepped down the stairs to a small stone pathway. He noticed some construction tape out of the corner of his eye.

Distracted, Dean glanced over at the pool. "What's going on over there?"

Sam followed his gaze. "Oh, she was working on an addition to the house."

Between the house and the pool was a small area that was dug up. A tall oak tree stood in the middle of the mess, cordoned off from the rest of the lawn. It was most likely the next part to go.

"What are they adding on?" Dean asked. "Does this house really need to be any bigger?"

"Sunroom."

"Yeah, totally needed." Dean grabbed his phone, focusing back on the job and pulled up Katie's number to track the GPS signal. He called out to Sam, "signals coming from outside, in the backyard." He lead the way down the porch stairs, to a fenced off area. "Man, this girl was living the life."

The yard was large, slightly overgrown grass growing throughout the entire area. Thick bushes in the center of the yard framed a small pathway from the porch to the trees, and to the far end of the yard there was a sparkling in ground pool.

Sam continued scanning the yard without any success. "This disappearance, it happened during the day, right?"

Dean glanced up from his phone, "yeah, around 5pm according to the timing of the call. Sun was still up."

"So if there's anything here, it should show. Unlike those ghosts in the asylum who only showed up on the meter at night."

"Yeah, you would think." Dean walked over to the pathway. "This is where her cell signal is coming from. I'm gonna try calling it now." He punched in the number they'd grabbed from the police (one of the only useful facts they'd been able to get from them) and waited for it to start ringing.

Sam wandered around the backyard while Dean was waiting for the call to connect, scanning the rest of the area. He made his way back over to his brother when nothing turned up on the meter. They both waited in silence.

"Got it," Dean said when his phone connected, a ringtone coming over the speaker. "Hear anything?" He pulled the phone away from his ear so he could listen for the girls' ringtone. There was nothing... and then he became aware of a tiny sound, at the very edge of hearing.

"Yeah," Sam said, concentrating. "But barely..." He walked around, trying to see if it got louder anywhere.

Dean examined the ground, checking to see if there was any sign of the phone. Every direction he walked away from the beginning of the path, the sound got softer. "Weird..." he muttered, watching as the call switched to voicemail. He went back over to where he'd heard it strongest. "Maybe it's underground?"

"I don't remember seeing any tunnels in this area, though. And the septic system for the house isn't near this part of the yard."

Dean stared at Sam. "Ok, random."

Sam shrugged. "I wanted to be prepared."

Dean knelt down, looking around the bushes lining the pathway. All he could see was markings from some animals on the ground, no sign of the phone or any footprints from the girl. He brushed his hand lightly over the soil underneath the closest bush to where the sound was loudest to see if it had been dug up recently, to check if maybe the phone had been buried. All he found was solid ground though, roots in the soil intact and dirt well packed in. There were no signs of any digging at all.

He gazed up at the house. "Well, let's check out the rest of the home, give it a good once-over. We still have a day before the girls phone should run out of juice, so we'll come back and check it out again later."

They walked back up the stairs into the house. The hunters separated, Sam heading up to the second floor to see if the EMF meter would pick up anything up there and Dean staying on the ground floor to check and see if they'd missed anything. He heard the stairs creak under Sam's heavy footfalls. Dean went through the main floors rooms slowly, making sure that he didn't miss anything. Nothing on that floor jumped out at him though. Nothing was out of place, everything was neat and orderly. The house was so clean it bordered on creepy.

He found himself back in the dining room, after sweeping the entire ground floor. Nothing. No entrance to any downstairs tunnels, nothing out of place. Just the girls' dinner set up on the table. Dean did a double take. Next to the girls' dishes was a ring, sitting where he could have sworn there was nothing a moment before. Suspiciously he walked over to the table, looking around to see if anything else had changed. "Sam?" He called out, wondering if his brother had put it there. But he hadn't heard Sam come down the stairs since they started. The house being so old, it was hard to walk quietly, each footstep causing a series of creaks. There was no way he wouldn't have heard his sasquatch brother coming.

Wondering if maybe he'd just not noticed the ring the first time they'd come through, he leaned down, giving it a close look. It had the appearance of an engagement ring, double gold bands wrapping around a center band of diamonds. I don't remember seeing anything in the news article about this girl being engaged or having a fiancé. Her sister only mentioned a boyfriend in her report... He searched around the room warily, then reached for the ring, curious if there was anything on the inside of the band that would tell him where it was from or who it belonged too.

The second his fingers touched the ring, the lights in the room flickered. Dean jumped back in surprise, pulling his sawed off shotgun out of his jacket when a woman appeared across the table from him, flickering in the daylight and screeching "Never, you'll never have him! He's MINE!" At this last word, she angrily thrust her arms toward him, and he was slammed backwards into the air, shoulder ramming into the glass on the door of the cabinet behind him. The last thing he remembered thinking before blacking out was how strange it was the glass didn't shatter when he hit. He'd been tossed into a lot of glass in his life, and the glass always shattered. Everything after that last moment of clarity was pain and blackness.


Upstairs, Sam was having no more luck than Dean was. Nothing was out of place in any of the bedrooms, and he was finishing in the main bathroom right when he heard a commotion downstairs. A screeching voice was yelling out, but he couldn't make out any of the words. Poking his head out the door, he called out, "Dean? Is that you?" There was no response to his call, the words falling on dead air.

Feeling a strand of worry worming in his gut, he went back over to the stairs, pulling out his salt gun. Standing at the top of the stairs, he leaned around to see if he could catch sight of anything downstairs. Nothing. He held his gun at the ready and slowly crept down, hunting senses at the ready, listening for anything else. "Dean?" He called out, getting more concerned when he still heard nothing from his brother.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he heard a buzzing noise from his jacket. He pulled out the EMF meter and was shocked to see that it was reacting to something in the house. He felt his distress skyrocket. With no sign of his brother and signs of activity in the house, something bad was happening.

Carefully, he swept through the rooms searching for any sign of his brother. His worry was slowly climbing up the scale to panic when he made it through all of them for the second time without seeing anything. Whatever the EMF meter was reading was almost off the charts, and there was nothing so far that could have caused it. He stopped for a moment in the dining room, catching his breath and trying to think where else to look. Checking out the window, he saw the Impala was still parked along the road, so unless someone else had come and left there unheard and unseen, Dean couldn't have gone too far. Hopefully.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam caught sight of something that hadn't been there before. He turned to the dining room cabinet, breath catching in his throat when he saw what was laying on the dishcloth draped on top the shelves. "No, no, no," he muttered under his breath, practically racing over to the cabinet. Not possible. This can't be happening... His eyes widened when he realized he wasn't imagining things.

A tiny, three inch version of his brother was sprawled across the cloth, collapsed on his side with an itty bitty gun clutched in his hand.

"Dean?!" He cried out worriedly, carefully nudging the little body with the tip of his finger. Dean gave no response to the voice or the nudge. He was so small. Holding his breath, he gently pushed against one of the little shoulders, rolling the tiny form over. He was so afraid to touch Dean, his hand was so much larger than the miniature hunter. Hell, his finger was bigger than Dean now. Almost thicker than that tiny chest, too. Dean's left arm hung limply at his side, and the tiny shotgun slipped out of his right hand when he was rolled over. Bloodstains marked the washcloth where his head had been, and when Sam peered close enough, he could see a tiny gash on Dean's forehead, still bleeding.

He leaned over, trying to check if Dean was still breathing. Dean was so small it was hard to see if the little chest was moving, so he had to put his ear over Dean's body. He listened quietly for breathing and was careful to not lean directly on the tiny form. He sighed thankfully when he heard it - soft, and slightly stuttering, but there.

Sam glanced around the room, realizing that whatever had attacked the other hunter might still be around. The last thing they needed was to both get shrunk. He gently gathered the cloth his brother was laying on around him and scooped it up as carefully as possible, keeping Dean safe in the center. He avoided any thoughts about how light it was or how teeny Dean was. It was unreal. The way Dean's left arm flopped over limply when Sam lifted him up made Sam worry that it was dislocated. "Just hold on, OK?" Sam whispered to his brothers' little form, feeling protective of the tiny hunter. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." He carefully tucked the small hunter deeper into the cloth, not liking how easily Dean's arm flopped around.

Keeping a watchful eye out for anything out of the ordinary, Sam kept his salt gun at the ready as he slowly made his way back to the entrance of the house. He walked as carefully as possible, keeping his footsteps soft and even, not wanting to cause any more injuries to his vulnerable brother. Even the slightest wrong move could end badly for the miniature hunter. Every time his brother shifted on the washcloth, Sam felt his heart jump, worrying Dean would wake up and panic before Sam could do anything. He couldn't afford to grab his brother in his hand, he'd be risking exasperating Dean's injuries, and if Dean fell from this height, he'd in a world of hurt. Plus with Dean's ever present fear of heights, he might have a panic attack without any of the other problems he had going on factoring in.

Finally reaching the Impala, Sam dropped the gun and pulled out the keys, keeping Dean carefully balanced while he opened up the car. Sam sat down, finally feeling a little of the tension leave his shoulders. Now that he was in the car, if Dean woke up and panicked, he at least didn't have to worry about Dean falling on concrete. Grabbing the gun from the ground, he tossed it into the duffel in the back and turned his attention back to his older brother. Older, but definitely littler. Sam thought with a brief bout of humor before sobering up. Dean probably wouldn't appreciate the joke in this situation.

He held the washcloth up as close to his face as he could, trying to make out the full extent of Dean's injuries. The arm was definitely dislocated, but from what he could see, the head injury had stopped bleeding. That was a good sign. He prayed it wasn't a concussion. None of their medicine would do Dean any good when the tablets were bigger than his hand. Holding his breath, Sam gently grasped his brother's arm between his thumb and index finger. He'd done this a hundred times before, but every time they'd been close in size. This time, if he did this even slightly wrong, he could accidentally crush his brothers' arm, or snap it, or... he shied away from those thoughts, fear for Dean taking root front and center in his mind. He could feel how fragile the bones in the arm were now, so much smaller than his fingers. It pained him to have to do this. He had to fix the arm, though. The longer it went without treatment the worse the swelling would get. He lightly adjusted his grip again, in preparation.

"This might hurt a little," he murmured softly, in case Dean was awake enough to be aware of what he was doing, before quickly popping the arm back into place with a small jerk. Dean's body spazzed, silently crying out. He clutched the arm to his side with his hand, thrashing around. Sam carefully cupped his free hand around the tiny body, stopping the movement and preventing his brother from injuring himself more during the seizure. Held like that, Dean was completely enveloped by Sam's hand. Dean still showed no sign of waking up, despite the small shudders that continued. Sam felt his heart calm a little when Dean slumped down again into a motionless slumber, tiny body relaxing into the cloth.

Sam let out a sigh. Now that Dean was taken care of, he turned his attention back to the cause of the problem. He'd never heard of anything that could shrink a person. He carefully thought over the creeps they'd run into in the past. Nothing had ever shown abilities even close to this before. Even shapeshifters and skinwalkers remained on the same scale when they transformed. He remembered how the EMF meter had gone off right before he'd found Dean and wondered if anyone had ever run into a spirit with these abilities before.

He glanced back down at Dean. "Maybe this time, I'll save you for once?" The quip fell on flat air. He felt none of the humor he'd been hoping for once it was out. Sam slowly lowered the washcloth to the middle of the bench seat in the Impala. Once he made sure that it wasn't going to slip off the seat when he started driving, he folded the top of the washcloth over Dean, hiding the tiny hunter from sight. Hopefully, keeping Dean covered like that would help him adjust to everything when he woke up. Sam didn't want his brother getting hurt trying to run away. Especially if he was running from Sam. His heart sunk at the thought, knowing it was very possible in this weird situation.


Dean woke up to a pounding headache and his arm sore and slightly numb. He gave a groan, trying to sit up but didn't get far before he collapsed back down. It felt like he'd taken on the Jayhawks singlehandedly the night before. He rolled over onto his back to relieve some of the pressure from his arm and tried to recall where he'd been last. He could recall going to a house with Sammy... looking for some girl. He was proud when he managed to remember the girls name was Katie. Baby steps, that's all it took. Everything would come back.

Outside his head, he became aware of a loud rumbling. It sounded like... his baby's engine. Only, it was a lot louder than the last time he'd heard it. Was he... in the car? He cautiously opened his eyes, hoping to get more clues of what had happened to him. The soft light all around made his headache throb more while he focused on his surroundings. He was completely covered, laying on a rough surface that was vibrating, the same way his car did when he was driving. Am I in the Impala? How is that possible?

He sat up fully, gasping when his left arm stung at the movement. He slowly rolled up his sleeve, seeing his shoulder swollen and red. That's right, something threw me into the wall in the house. He recalled the last few moments before blacking out. Must have dislocated it, he surmised from the way it felt. From the look of things, Sammy had already popped it back into place. With a little ice back at the motel, he'd be good as new. Checking over the rest of his body to see if there were any other injuries, Dean found a wet gash on his forehead. He dabbed his hand at it, finding partially dried blood. None of it was fresh, so it must already be healing. He wondered how long he'd been out, and what had happened to Sam.

Once he was sure everything was in one piece, he took in his surroundings again, confused. There was no way he was sitting in his baby. For one thing, there was too much space around him. As much as he loved the Impala, he'd never had this much comfort when sleeping in the car. He always woke up with a stiff back, curled up awkwardly. Noticing his sawed-off shotgun lying next to him, he grabbed it, putting it safely back in its hiding spot in his jacket. He took account of everything he had, hearing his dad's voice telling him the day he didn't prepare for anything was the day he stopped breathing. 'It only takes one mistake,' flashed through his memory, growled out in his father's angry tone.

Aside from his shotgun, he had extra salt shells tucked away, his trusty handgun, cell phone, a silver knife, lighter, salt, flashlight and some holy water in a flask. A hunters' essentials. Never leave home without them. He loved all the pockets his jacket had hidden in it. Life was much safer when you took precautions and came prepared for everything. He worried about his keys, patting himself down to find them for a few moments until he remembered his brother had been driving the car that day. That's right, Sam was with me. He found little more of his memory was starting to come back. He tried to push the covering off his head, starting to feel like he was trapped.

"Dean? You awake?" Sam's voice echoed around him, sounding as loud as the car. Dean covered his ears at volume, flinching as his headache started up again.

"Yeah, I'm awake. Sam, where are we? What happened? And why are you shouting, I'm right here." Dean angrily punched at the blanket over him.

There was a brief moment of silence before he got a much quieter response. Dean practically wanted to cry in relief. "Dean, we're in the Impala."

"Not possible," Dean growled out, annoyed that Sam thought he didn't know his beloved car inside and out. "I never had this much leg room in the Impala."

"Yeah, about that... do you remember what happened to you before you got knocked out?" Dean caught a note of apprehension in Sam's tone and frowned to himself, wondering what the hell was going on. Sam was acting odd even for him.

"I went through the ground floor, and didn't find anything. So I went to the dining room while I waited for you. It was weird, there was a ring sitting on the table. When I went to take a closer look at it, this lady - this spirit showed up and slammed me against the wall. That's it. I got knocked out 'till I woke up here." He tried again to get the blanket off his head, attempting to stand up this time on wobbly legs. The cover was too heavy for him though, and he ended up crashing back down in a heap. Dean grunted when his arm burned painfully at the exertion. "Where the hell am I? Why can't I see you?"

"It's for your own good. You got hurt when she hit you, and I needed a way to keep you safe and out of harms way."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean, Sam?" Dean started to struggle with the cover again, trying to pull it off. He could feel himself getting more pissed. "'Keep me safe?' What the hell do you need to keep me safe from?" Out of nowhere, it lifted off, giving him breathing space, but still blanketing his range of sight. He took a few deep breaths as the claustrophobia went down, not questioning how it had happened for the moment.

"I'll take it off, but Dean? Do me a favor, and don't panic. Please. Just remember no matter what, I won't let anything happen to you."

Confused, Dean was about to ask Sam what the hell he was talking about, but the words caught in his throat when the cover lifted off completely without any other warning. Nothing around him was making any sense. He blinked, hoping his world would snap back to normal, but it didn't help. "Son of a bitch..." slipped out hopelessly.

He found himself sitting in a titanic version of his beloved Impala, on what seemed to be a... Is this a dishrag? He found himself thinking to distract him from the rest of his fucked up world, baffled. No wonder it was so scratchy and uncomfortable. From his point of view, the back of the seat stretched above his head for at least forty feet, the radio in front of him was unreachable, soaring above his head... Apprehensively he turned toward the driver's seat, fearing what he'd see, but needing to know. He felt his breathing speed up the moment he saw his little brother. Dean stumbled backwards, trying to put space in between him and... and... "S-Sam?" He gasped out, still in shock and unable to process everything.

A colossal version of Sam was looking down at him from high above, huge hands on the wheel of the Impala, thick, strong fingers wrapped around the wheel, making it clear he was driving from the way he was gripping. Their eyes met, huge puppy eyes coming out full force against Dean's tiny greens. He felt his heart racing at the sheer size of his brother. Sam had always been a big guy, but this was ridiculous! For all the stuff that had ever happened in their lives, nothing this scale had ever affected either brother.

Dean tried to steady his breathing, not wanting to let Sam know just how freaked out he was. "Wha-What happened?" He found himself demanding, simply to break the uncomfortable silence that was stretching out between them.

Sam turned back to the road before answering. "I'm not sure, I found you like this when I came downstairs. You were collapsed on the cabinet in the dining room, arm dislocated. I never saw what did it. There was nothing around when I got there. But the EMF meter was going nuts right after." He peered back down at Dean. Dean couldn't help stiffening when the huge eyes fell on him again. His instincts were begging him to run, find cover, escape. He stilled them, distantly knowing he was safe, no matter how screwed up it all seemed. It was just Sam, no matter how big. "Do you remember what happened before you got knocked out? Something that might have caused this?" Sam asked him softly, afraid of scaring Dean.

Closing his eyes, Dean shut out the world around him to get his mind off how WRONG everything was and brought his attentions back to his... problem. "There was a ring. Everything happened after I touched it." He rubbed his head with his left arm and froze. Something felt off. Opening his eyes, he scrutinized his hand curiously.

The ring from the dining room was on it.

Shocked, Dean scrambled backwards, trying to yank it off his hand. It didn't budge. From above he heard "Dean, what the hell?!" Beyond the washcloth he caught sight of something massive moving at him seconds before a hand snagged him in its grasp, huge fingers wrapping around him easily and lifting him off the seat. He was pulled up quickly, coming to a halt in front of Sam's face. He found himself shaking from what had just happened, barely able to process what was in front of him. He'd never felt more pathetic in his life, more insignificant.

The huge hazel eyes staring back at him softened when he started to shake. "Dean, it's ok. I just didn't want you falling off the edge of the seat. You're safe. It's just me, just Sammy."

"Y-yeah," Dean managed to stutter out. Trying to calm down from the shock of being grabbed, Dean focused away from the weird of the situation long enough to see that Sam had pulled off the side of the road with the car, most likely when he had started spazzing out at the ring. Which reminded him why it had all happened in the first place. He pulled his arm out of Sam's grasp, which was light and gentle despite their size difference. Yup, the ring was still there. "Sam, remember that ring I told you about?"

Concern shown in the huge eyes only a few feet away from Dean. "Yeah?"

He held his hand up, not knowing if Sam could see something that small. "I barely touched it, and it's on my hand now."

Sam frowned as he leaned forward, eyes narrowed. Dean couldn't stop himself from squirming back uneasily at the scrutiny. Sam's huge eyes were only a few inches away...regular sized inches, that was. "I can't see anything," Sam said helplessly. "Your hands are too small."

Uncomfortable with his brothers' proximity, Dean kept his eyes glued on the ring. He was so, so far outside his comfort zone right now. Personal space was a thing of the past. Hearing Sam say he was too small for the ring to even be seen made him feel even more insignificant. Pulling his other arm out, Dean tried to tug the ring off again. It didn't budge. "It won't come off. I'm thinking that it might be what caused this," and he gestured at himself, face turning red. Even Dean couldn't have said if it was from embarrassment or anger.

Sam leaned back again, giving Dean some breathing room. "You thinking cursed object?"

Dean eyed the ring. "Looks like." He sighed. "Just my luck. Unless you have express tickets to Mount Doom." It seemed it was his turn to deal with a curse. He remembered how much trouble the rabbit's foot had put Sam through before they managed to break the damn curse. He hoped that shrinking was the only effect the ring had, remembering how the rabbit's foot effect had changed when Sam lost the foot.

An idea occurred to him. "Hold on," he said, motion for Sam to wait. Sam arched his eyebrows curiously. Twisting in Sam's grasp, Dean dug his phone from his pocket. The fingers shifted around him, giving him a bit more freedom of movement. He felt a small thrill of fear at the movement. He was completely in someone else's power, a feeling he'd never before had to this complete and total extent. There was nothing he could do to stop Sam... hell to stop anyone while he was this small. A feeling of crushing insignificance hit him. He was treading in completely unfamiliar ground. It was not a pleasant experience. Distracting himself from the thought, he turned on the camera on his phone, snapping a picture of the ring and sending it to Sam.

Sam's phone buzzed. Dean watched as his brother dug it out of his pocket, slightly jostled with the smallest movement from Sam. He couldn't help staring at his brothers' phone. It was almost the same size as Dean himself. Pulling up the message Dean had sent him, Sam smiled. "Heh, good idea." Sam inspected the ring, eyebrows furrowed. "That's a pretty distinctive ring. It reminds me of a wedding band. Did you see anything inside it before you put it on, like an engraving?"

"I didn't put it on, Sam, it just appeared on my hand." Dean couldn't hide the annoyance from his voice. What did Sam take him for? "And I was in the middle of trying to check for inscriptions when I got attacked." Dean found himself relaxing back into the fingers slightly while Sam was mulling over the photo.

"Hmm," Sam frowned at the picture, still considering it.

Now that he'd calmed down enough to be able to think, Dean took a moment to look around at his surroundings while Sam was distracted. When he saw how high up he was in the air, he grabbed onto Sam's fingers, panic creeping in. His breathing started to come faster and he felt some of the blood drain from his face. "S-sam, too high," he managed to stutter out while he was freaking out inside. He saw worry pass over Sam's face before being quickly lowered back to the washcloth he'd been on before. The hand drew away after making sure Dean was settled on the seat. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Sam pulled the Impala back onto the road.

Dean sat back against the massive seat with a sigh, little shoulders slumping down. He hoped they'd be able to find a solution quick. This was shaping up to be his least favorite case ever.