A/N

Wow, such great reviews! We (PL1 and nightmares06) are thrilled to see that you're enjoying the story, and we can't wait to hear what you think of what's coming up for these bros! Thank you to brihun2388, Christine, stargazer100, miss-olivia-winchester, appletopine and LegacyFalcon for such encouraging reviews, you're the reason we write!

Dean gave a hiss of triumph as his knife passed through the last part of the white tab for the boxed up pie. He tossed it to the ground and started to push open the box to reveal his prize, a long-sought-after dessert that he hadn't had the pleasure of enjoying in fourteen years, a length of time more than half his and Sam's lives.

In fact, he shouldn't have known about the delectable dessert at all, but something in the back of his mind had been shouting out at him that he needed to check the room closest to where he'd set up his home in the walls. It was a sense he'd learned to follow, just like they'd learned from experience that if Sam said there was someone watching them or looking for them, there was definitely someone looking for them. It was nothing any of them could explain, just like the abnormal strength, but no one would complain.

When you didn't stand four inches in height, you learned to take the good with the bad.

Without that sense he never would have known to check the room and never would have seen the container of pie sitting out so innocuously.

Abilities like that might make them interesting to hunters. Dean knew that all too well. People with psychic abilities tended to fall on the 'dangerous' side of the supernatural world. Add to that their unnatural stature and well.

He could just be happy that no hunters had ever wandered their way since his own father had been in town the week they got cursed.

The air was brisk in the waning afternoon. The early spring temperatures had yet to really warm up, though in a place like Haven, Kansas it wouldn't take too long for summer to start up in a blaze of humidity and soaring temperatures. Already the grass was poking out of the ground in stubborn emerald tufts, resolutely getting a head start on all the other growth for the coming season.

After spending the winter at one of the local farms helping to keep the livestock fed and watered, Jacob Andris was ready to move on to the next job. His contract was up and he'd just checked his bank account at the ATM in the local Quik Stop. The payment had made it in shortly after he had a mid-afternoon lunch in the local diner, waiting for check-in time at the Trails West motel.

During the winter he'd stayed at the farmhouse, but it didn't seem right to stay there much longer now that his work was done. Jacob didn't want to overstay his welcome. So he'd said his goodbyes to the farmers, gone into town, and gotten some food. He stowed the leftovers in the room before wandering outside to enjoy the day while the sun was up.

His life had become a series of simple joys like that. Jacob, only freshly 18 the previous summer, had decided against going to college in favor of entering the workforce. He could start giving money back to his mom here and there by doing manual labor, instead of incurring thousands of dollars in debt.

He'd tried once or twice to interview with scholarship committees, who took one look at him and raised their eyebrows skeptically. He was only 18, but he'd already reached his considerable full height of six foot five. That didn't tend to scream "academic success," and not having straight A's came back to bite him. Plus, since he'd never been on the football team, no recruiters caught sight of him for an athletic scholarship either.

So he hadn't planned ahead that far. He wasn't the first, and he wouldn't be the last.

It made Jacob something of a drifter, traveling back and forth wherever the jobs took him. He didn't mind. He'd always enjoyed road trips.

He'd started the summer before his last year of high school, stacking boxes for a warehouse back in Iowa. His size and bulk lent itself to the heavy lifting jobs like that, and the experience gave him the edge he needed to grab himself similar jobs right after graduation.

His mom always said she missed him, out on the road so much, but she was proud of him. She always said his dad would be proud, too, and that kept him going in the rare times that he wondered if he'd have been better off trying for a degree.

Jacob absently brushed a fingertip over the green glass bead in his necklace, a twine choker that he'd had since he was a kid, while he perused the shelves near the register of the convenience store. His other hand gripped a handful of different newspapers from the basket, as well as a bag of Fritos (a guilty pleasure).

He always picked up local papers as well as national ones. Anything with want ads was fair game to him since he had nothing against traveling to his next job. Jacob didn't have a computer, so he couldn't go looking online for work. He had to do it the old fashioned way.

Some people might worry about him, just a kid out on his own in the world. It was dangerous to travel alone like that. Jacob didn't even have a cell phone. He had to save his quarters for the pay phones.

Yet as Jacob got to the counter and set down his papers and chips, the cashier almost drew back. It was a squat little man, probably in his forties and openly marveling at how tall and built Jacob was for his otherwise youthful appearance.

He was used to it. Jacob had shot up in height at around 14, and hadn't really stopped until recently. It gave him a lot of capacity to "loom," as his mom liked to put it. He'd done his best to learn how to seem non-threatening that way, putting his usually relaxed demeanor to good use.

Being one of the tallest people around did help him avoid trouble, though. One of the dangers of being alone was practically nonexistent.

"Hey, man, how's it going?" Jacob asked as he leafed through the papers to make sure he had the right count. "Got one from each of your baskets over there."

The man seemed put at ease at least a little by his friendly words and smile, and he practically saw the tension melt off the guy. "I'll ring that up for ya. You just passing through, kid? On vacation, or what?"

"Yes and no," Jacob answered, handing over some cash once the amount showed up on the little screen attached to the register. "Passing through, just finished a temp job up the road. On my way to the next one." His deep voice, thankfully, didn't intimidate the man again while he graciously bagged up Jacob's purchase.

"Well, that's how it goes, buddy," the cashier laughed. "Good luck."

Jacob thanked him and left, making his way back to his motel in a slow, ambling walk. He was in no rush. There was leftover pie waiting for him in his room, but he could eat that at any time. One of the many perks of having his own schedule. Jacob glanced up as a flock of geese soared overhead in a V formation, honking and arguing amongst themselves as they went.

The faded, worn down Trails West sign soon came into view, and Jacob took his hands out of his hoodie pockets to fish around in his jeans for his key. He was halfway across the parking lot before he got ahold of it, pinching the shard of metal in two thick fingers. His footsteps scraped against the ground by the time he slipped past his car on the way to his door.

The car, a maroon Mercury Cougar, had been reliable for him ever since he got it sometime in the middle of high school. Jacob appreciated the machine's persistence, considering its distinctly worn-down (but cared for) nature. It might not be the best road trip car, but it came pretty damn close.

He had to suppress a yawn as he got to the door, covering his face with the back of his arm. Working hard, on a schedule like his, made it easy to start dragging by the late afternoon hours. Jacob might end up having to take a short snooze before he got to work searching for a new job.

He fumbled only for a second with the old, sticky lock before his key slid into place and turned with a flick of his wrist.

Dean managed to push the thick white styrofoam up to chest height, almost groaning when he caught another whiff of the pie inside. Apple. Excitement flooded his heart. As if things couldn't get any better.

And then they couldn't.

"Dean! " Sam hissed from his station next to the hook. "He's back!"

Dean's blood chilled as he turned around. The sound of immense feet scuffing against the ground outside sent daggers of fear up his back. Shoes big enough to crush Dean and Sam both from existence without their owner even noticing crunched against gravel and crumbling asphalt.

The human was back, and they were out in the open over three feet in the air.

As the looming shadow of the young man fell over the doorway like a shroud, Dean was running towards Sam. "Go!" he snapped, taking command instantly. Sam's face clouded over, costing them precious seconds of time in indecision. They had two hooks, but there was a chance of losing both of them if they climbed down together, which was why one brother always kept a hook in reserve. Their backup plan, one designed by Dean.

Losing both hooks could get them killed even if they never got caught. It was their only way to get food, after all, and one of the contingency plans Sam hated the most because of the way it meant that Dean, the slower climber, would be following him down.

Dean grabbed Sam's shoulders and forced him to the hook that was lodged in a crack in the wood. "I'll be right behind you!" he swore, understanding Sam's hesitation but knowing they couldn't afford a second more just standing on the table. The human would be in the room in seconds, and they were up on the table with no cover in sight.

"The faster you get down, the faster I'll be able to follow!"

The only one in the motel able to make it to the floor in seconds was Sam. There was no use making him wait for Dean to make his own halting way down, maybe costing both of their lives with his fear of heights. Sam had an annoying (to Dean) habit of just sliding carelessly down, using the cuff of his jacket to cut out the friction. It was why he was always first up, first down. They couldn't afford Dean slowing them down when trouble showed up.

Sam sent him a desperate glance with pleading hazel eyes, looking for all the world like he wanted to argue with Dean's words.

But there was no time.

Sam swung off the side of the table. His skills with climbing came in handy during times like this. He dwindled out of sight and Dean leaned over to track his progress, his own hand tightening on the strap of the leather bag that he had slung around his shoulder. Walt had made it for him, and it was long and wide, a lot like the old duffel he used to stuff his clothes inside when they were on the road with John Winchester. It gave him plenty of room to stash supplies when they ventured out, and he had hoped to fill it with pie before they had to leave the room.

Sam hit the ground and was already running for the dresser as Dean climbed over the edge. His heart rate increased and he shut his eyes as the sound of metal scraping on metal came from the door.

Time was up.

There was nothing in the world that would ever make Dean a climber like Sam. He edged down the thread, hoping and praying that the key would get stuck, that the door wouldn't open. That a person out in the parking lot would call for the human's attention or he'd be distracted on the phone and wouldn't notice the cursed man trying to make his way down from a devastating height.

The tall door, immovable to someone Dean's size, swung open with a creak, all from an effortless push with one enormous hand. A plastic bag from the convenience store was hanging on the same wrist, and it crackled and rustled as it swayed suspended in the air. Thudding footsteps shook through even the table from several feet away as the most absolutely massive human Dean had ever laid eyes on stepped over the threshold.

Big brown eyes, so high above, seemed to zero right in on Dean, and they widened at the sight.

Jacob let his bag fall and hastily yanked the key from the lock, swinging the door shut behind him without looking. It slammed with a rush of air and sealed him in the room with what might be a very convincing hallucination.

But no. It persisted, and despite blinking several times, Jacob couldn't get the image of what looked like a tiny little man climbing down a thread that hooked to the motel room's table. Jacob didn't even feel the key falling from his grasp as he stared for a second longer. It hit the carpet with a thump that was lost to the shock of what he saw.

Jacob suddenly had a thought that, if that little guy made it to the floor and took off, he might never get to find out anything more. Why the guy was there. Where he'd come from. What he was. So Jacob strode forward, crossing the short distance in only a stride or two, and stooped to get a better look.

His glance over the little guy revealed what looked to be a tiny little leather bag hanging from one shoulder. While he was climbing down a rope. That's impressive, he thought vaguely as one of his hands shot out to halt the desperate downward climb.

Jacob marveled at the fact that his fingers were longer than the little person was tall as they sealed around the little body. The teeny arms were left free, since they'd been at a lucky angle when Jacob's hand reached him.

He stood up straight again, lifting the little guy away from the table as he did so. With his other hand, Jacob reached up and gently tugged the thread away from where it had been caught along with the little person, and, like the key, he let that fall to the ground out of sight. His eyes skated over the tiny form with unmasked awe.

Not wanting to squash the little guy, Jacob made it easier on himself and pinched the tiny duffel bag in his fingers, prying it away as gently as he could considering how little this guy was. He set it on the table distractedly once his hand was securely around the tiny person.

Then he allowed himself to stare.

"Holy shit," he muttered. "What the hell…"

A/N

Enter Jacob Andris, our other main character alongside Sam and Dean!

...I don't think Dean appreciates that, Jacob. Might wanna take things a little slower than just nabbing the guy.