A/N

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Dean eyed up the sugar packet, reminded of something from the week before by how easily Jacob tore it open. "You're pretty strong," he noted. Jacob had lifted up a vase that was heavier than him by far, and the only thing that had stopped him from escaping out from under it had been Dean himself. Caught off guard by the unexpected show of strength, Dean had knocked it back down to the table with a reactionary attack that he regretted to this day.

If the vase had slammed down to the table with Jacob's hand or foot caught underneath it, Dean would have crushed the small limbs without ever meaning too. Jacob could have been crippled and his life could have been made tougher than it already was, just because of an escape attempt gone wrong.

"Is Sam as strong as you?" Dean asked curiously. "I haven't seen him do anything like picking up that vase yet." A thought that had occurred to him was that maybe everyone their size was stronger, relatively, than a human. It didn't help them out as much as they could hope - even with the extra strength, Dean had easily trapped Jacob in a fist when he first caught him. All of those tiny, valiant struggles had meant nothing compared to the fingers sealed around his body in an unforgiving grip.

Jacob followed Dean's gaze to the sugar packet. "Nah, he probably couldn't pick up the vase," he replied quickly, absently drumming his fingers on the bottlecap in his lap. In truth, Jacob wasn't sure where his strength came from, any more than they knew where Sam's ability came from. Their best guess was that the curse had some leftover effect, because though Walt and Mallory had their individual strengths, they weren't on par with super strength or the ability to know when someone was watching.

"I dunno anyone else who can lift stuff like that. That vase was the heaviest thing I ever tried."

Dean listened intently, his brow furrowing in curiosity. Sam couldn't do the same thing as Jacob… which left him wondering if there were hidden secrets about Sam he didn't know. The more he found out about his two little brothers, both blood-related and adopted, the more he realized they had secrets even they might not suspect.

Jacob let himself smirk pridefully. The vase was very heavy compared to his own maximum weight of a few ounces. Setting aside his bottlecap, he retrieved the hook from where he'd left it on the edge of the nightstand. He remembered finding the broken bag clip that held the wire. He'd strained against the metal to get it into the shape he needed, his strength outstripping Sam's when his adopted brother tried to help.

"Made this hook myself. I don't go around practicing vase-lifting but the extra strength does help a lot with stuff like this, or carrying supplies." After a beat of hesitation, Jacob held out the hook for Dean to check it out, the twine climbing rope still dangling from it.

Dean couldn't stop from sliding closer to the nightstand and leaning over to give it his avid attention. Hesitantly, he held out a hand. "Mind if I take a closer look?" he asked. It was intricate enough to be hard for him to see from a distance.

Jacob glanced over the hand Dean held out. It was so huge compared to him, with fingers longer than he was tall. He knew well enough that there was plenty of power in that hand. More than enough to simply take the hook from Jacob whether he offered it or not. He briefly thought back to that first meeting with Dean, when Jacob had been forced to watch the human go through his bag, unable to stop him.

Everything looked so small in Dean's hand. Jacob hadn't wanted his few possessions to break in the careless grip of someone so huge. This time, Dean would be looking over the all-important tool by his choice. He knew that if he handed over his hook, Dean wouldn't take it and keep it locked away in a pocket where Jacob couldn't reach it. In a show of trust, Jacob leaned over to place the hook on the waiting fingertips. "Knock yourself out."

Dean waited for Jacob to be clear of his hand, then lifted the hook and twine up to his eyes. Jacob wasn't the only one remembering that first time he'd held the hook. It and the string had been pushed to the side after only a brief glance. At the time, Dean had been more concerned with if Jacob was a threat or not, and afraid he'd been sent on a hunt to kill a kid.

Small strain marks in the metal showed where Jacob had twisted it to his own ends, turning it into a hook instead of whatever its former shape had been. Out of curiosity, he tested the tensile strength of the metal with a thumb, impressed to see how strong it was. There was almost no give under the pressure, making it unlikely the hook would ever fail Jacob while he was climbing. "Not bad," Dean said earnestly.

He let the twine run through his fingers. "Sam's got some fishing line, right?" Dean asked. "Where did your string come from? I haven't seen anything like this one."

Jacob smirked faintly. Sam's fishing line and hook were enviable finds. The fisherman who left them in the motel probably wouldn't have missed them when he packed up and continued on his trip to some lake where he could drink a lot of beer and pretend he was fishing. But Sam had made use of them for years even before Jacob showed up.

"It came from one of those woven twine necklace things," Jacob replied, gesturing towards his neck as he explained. The necklace in question had been his when he was still human. It had fallen behind the nightstand in his motel room sometime after being hit by the curse, and Sam had helped him retrieve it. It was one of the last things he had that tied him to his old life, and it looked nothing like it used to.

The green glass bead that had been woven into the twine was in the bottom of Jacob's satchel. He kept it with him always, even though it took up valuable supply space, being the size of a softball to him now. Jacob paused, wondering at the fact that he was more hesitant to reveal the bead, something of no practical use to him, than he was to hand over his climbing hook. His grip squeezed the edge of the flap of his bag before he drew it back and fished around for the bead. "This was part of it." He chuckled faintly. "I guess if I'd been wearing the damn thing when I got cursed, it'd be too small for you to even see it."

Dean nodded in reply, glancing over the small bead and remembering Jacob's reaction to him taking it and pocketing it out of reach. "Sam said that it was… all you had left of your family, right?" He could remember both of them staring up at him, afraid he wouldn't give it back. They couldn't stop him if he wanted to keep it, and the knowledge of that control he held was there in every glance that first night. Now that Jacob's family was lost to him by more than just the curse, that small bead really was the only thing he had to hold onto.

"Maybe I couldn't see it, but that wouldn't make it any less important," Dean informed Jacob. He fished in his own shirt, pulling out his amulet. He gave a dry swallow as he looked at it, dangling from his grip. The small bronze face was now almost the length of one of Sam's arms. Small in Dean's hand and heavy and clunky in Sam or Jacob's grasp. "This, uh… Sam gave me this, not long before he got cursed. It's all I had to hang on to all those years. It felt like he was still with me, even after my dad left and I had no one to rely on."

The faint glimmer on the amulet drew Jacob's eyes like a beacon. The face turned back and forth, swinging slightly as it dangled from Dean's grasp. Some of the edges of the metal that might have been sharper once upon a time were worn smooth now. It wasn't hard at all to believe that Dean had had the amulet for such a long time. And now ... he had his brother back. Like he should have all along.

Jacob looked down at the bead in his hands. Ever since shrinking, he'd had a number of opportunities to stare at the glass, find the imperfections on its surface or within the glass itself. The tiniest bubbles might have been seen as flaws in it, but he wouldn't have it any other way. "My dad bought the necklace the one time he managed to go home and visit Greece," Jacob explained, looking up with a faint smile at the memory. "It was probably just one of those cheap tourist things you can get, but I swear I thought it was the coolest thing."

Jacob shifted where he sat, noticing the lingering pain on Dean's face. He had no idea if he'd be able to get anything out of Dean, but he was concerned and curious. "When ... after your dad took off, did it take long before you found us at Trails West? "

Dean's eyes were distant as he lowered the amulet. "Not long. A few months… maybe half a year…" He could remember that message he'd gotten from his dad, the last time he'd heard from him since. Dean… something big is starting to happen… I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.

No explanation had been forthcoming since then, no reason aside from some invisible danger for why John had taken off. Bobby had no answers for him, no matter how many times he tried the older hunter.

No answers, no John. He was alone until he rediscovered Sam and took Jacob in.

Dean shrugged self-deprecatingly. "S'not like it really mattered," he muttered. "He had me hunting on my own for years before that. I only saw him when he checked in from time to time. Now I can't even get the man to answer his phone. For a few months it was disconnected completely." He didn't even know if he'd be able to get John to answer over the news that Sam was alive. Dean tucked the amulet back into his shirt and held Jacob's hook and twine out to take back.

Jacob hastily tucked away his bead so he wouldn't drop it before taking the hook and twine in his hands gratefully. Even so, his brow was pinched with concern. He looped up the twine with practiced motions, thinking that it very much did matter that Dean had been on his own for so much of his life. Isolation like that could really change a person. Even Sam and Jacob had other people around them when they were cursed.

It was remarkable that Dean hadn't become so hardened that he wouldn't have thought to give Jacob a chance. Jacob lived because Dean had stuck to his principles. And now, here he was, having coffee with the guy. Jacob set aside his twine and hook to take another drink of the sweetened brew, which was still pleasantly warm.

"Well," he began carefully, determined not to push Dean even further into the melancholy he'd brought up. "Sam an' me will just have to learn the ropes quick so you're not 'hunting on your own' anymore, right? Everyone needs some backup."

Dean felt the smile returning. "Right," he agreed. "I'll have to train you two up. Next time someone tries to mess with you, they're gonna regret it." It didn't matter to him that he was the last person to mess with Jacob. He'd make sure no one else got the chance. "If you've got some crazy strength, we'll have to see if we can hone it so you can put it to good use."

He gestured slightly towards the nail that was attached to Jacob's satchel. "Sam might have a knife, but with that thing you'll be able to do plenty of damage if you want to. We could even see if sharpening it up helps. I've got a smaller whetstone you could always borrow." He pursed his lips thoughtfully, remembering the scale difference. The small stone was about five inches long… making it handsized for Dean, but larger than Jacob's entire body. "It's a little big, but it should get the job done."

Jacob glanced thoughtfully at the nail. It so rarely left its loop on his satchel, and he always felt lucky for that fact. It meant he hadn't run into many situations where he'd need it. When Dean had caught him, one of the first things the hunter did was discard the small weapon, thinking he'd grabbed it by mistake.

Knowing what he knew now about hunters, Jacob was glad that hadn't gone any other way. If he'd had a chance to use that weapon on Dean, his strength might have put it right through Dean's hand, but the cost would have been steep. Even getting a chance to brandish the weapon would have pegged him as a threat to the hyper-aware hunter. Threats weren't allowed to persist when someone like Dean was around, always ready to fight danger in hopes of protecting people who were none the wiser.

Drawing the nail out experimentally, Jacob noted how light it was despite being made of dense metal. He could poke his palm with the point of it without suffering even the slightest injury. "I guess maybe it could use it," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "Honestly half the reason I keep it around is just to know I have it, y'know? I've never been much of a fighter." Jacob would have a lot to learn if he wanted to keep up with Sam and Dean.

"Hey, having it on hand is a good place to start," Dean said. "A lot of what I've got in the Impala isn't much use unless the right case comes along… and then we'll all be thankful it's there." He'd built his arsenal from the ground up, starting with weapons he'd made himself back when he was with his dad and slowly expanding to encompass weapons from other hunters, standard shops. Even a sniper rifle his dad had taught him to use. It wasn't something he'd ever needed before on a case, but it was always there waiting for the day it could be put to use saving people. "And everyone starts learning somewhere."

Dean peered down at the nightstand. "Think I should get some coffee and wake up Sam?" he asked curiously. "At the rate he's going, half the day will be gone." So far there hadn't been a sound from the third member of their group. Dean held himself back from peering under the nightstand. Of all the places in the room, it was the one place Sam and Jacob could get their own privacy without a giant looming overhead, and he wanted to keep it that way. He only checked underneath it when he had to.

Jacob glanced down, stowing away his nail in the leather loop. It was a simple sheath, but being Walt's craftsmanship, it worked perfectly for the intended purpose. Jacob picked up his neat pile of twine and a grin slowly formed on his face. Talk of waking Sam reminded him that he owed his brother for throwing things at his face to wake him up. It wasn't a constant competition between them, by any means, but Sam had slept in plenty to invite it.

"I'll get him out of bed," Jacob assured Dean, unable to hide the mischievous tone of voice or the glint in his eye. He shifted where he sat, easily fixing his hook into the edge of the nightstand again. After making sure he had a solid grip on his rope, he dropped over the side in a controlled fall. It was nowhere near as fast as Sam tended to do them, but all the same he reached the shelf under the nightstand in seconds.

Sam was still flopped on the bed when Jacob arrived in their makeshift room. He smirked and cautiously stepped around to kneel at Sam's side. Jacob got his hands full of the thick flannel and, without further ceremony, lifted it up to roll Sam over.

A/N:

Uh, Sam? You might not want to sleep in around these two again.

Next: October 30th, 2016

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