A/N

Thanks to Christine, mckydstarlight and maddietoes for all the wonderful reviews!

Sam watched Dean push himself away from the table to stand. The hunter briefly glanced down at them before moving away, a flash of regret glancing over his face while he did so. Sam understood; when Dean stood to his full height, they were all reminded of how different they were. It was difficult to adjust to such a sheer difference in size, and Dean could loom without meaning to.

Even though Sam had been small for most of his life, he'd still spent most of his time around people his own size. Humans were to be avoided. Now, he was back with his giant brother, and every time Dean glanced their way, the slight tingle of danger crawled up his neck. It wasn't as poignant as it was around other humans, but it was always there, a constant reminder of their differences.

Sam could only suspect the reasons for why the tingle wasn't as strong as it was with other humans. It could be because he knew it was his brother, and so the effect was lessened. Another possibility could be that it wasn't as strong because Dean truly didn't mean them any harm. They weren't in danger, they were safe.

Sam was hoping for the latter to be true. If it was, he'd be able to harness his unique ability to tell if a person was dangerous or hostile before they ever came close.

Taking a few steps onto the newspaper, Sam stared down at the palm-sized letters underfoot. He committed every detail to memory as he went, determined not to let Dean down on the case. He and Jacob needed to prove that they could be an asset despite their size.

In the background, Dean busied himself with packing up the last items around the room. Sam and Jacob's small room, along with the few toiletries the hunter owned were packed away in his well-worn duffel bag.

Since Sam was reading over the story about their case and Dean was gathering his belongings, Jacob found himself glancing over the article Dean had mentioned about an attorney accidentally suing himself. It turned out Dean wasn't joking; someone had actually done that in the area. It was a good thing Dean was better at his job than that poor sap.

On one hand, that meant that Dean had been able to spot and capture Jacob with frightening ease as he desperately tried to escape the human's motel room. The average person might not have noticed Jacob except as a bare motion in the peripheral vision, gone as soon as they looked his way. It was the way things were supposed to go for the little people that lived in the walls. Dean was too fast and too well-trained, and he couldn't let even the movements of shadows go without some investigation.

On the other hand, Dean wasn't so numb that he would assume Jacob was a threat just because he wasn't human. Dean had trapped Jacob, but they all knew that some other hunters might not have even given Jacob that long. Dean was very good at his job, which meant helping people as well as fighting off the monsters.

Jacob double and triple-checked that all of his belongings were with him. He had no idea what he could contribute to the case, and lingering doubts filled his mind. Jacob was immensely glad to be accepted into the family, and he didn't want to be dead weight. It'd be poor payment for everything both brothers had done for him.

He stepped tentatively onto the paper, noting the dry rustling under his boots. The smell of the newsprint permeated the air all around him and Sam. Jacob peered around Sam to skim the article one last time. "Finding everything between the lines?" he asked.

Sam glanced back. "The smallest detail might save our lives," he reminded Jacob. He smiled at how curious his adopted younger brother was and took a step back from the information so he could read it over. "Any hunters out there who don't appreciate research won't last long in the real world. It would be like trying to take down a werewolf without silver bullets - the monster might be taken off guard by your enthusiasm, but it won't slow them down when they rip your heart out."

The table shook slightly under them, and Sam looked up to find Dean standing close by. "That's what I've got my resident geek-boy for, right?" he joked. He stretched out a welcoming hand. "You two only have to stay in the pocket until we're all in the car," he reassured them. "It's getting later on in the day, there's a good chance there'll be people in the parking lot." That was met with no disagreement; Jacob and Sam knew they didn't want to be seen any more than Dean wanted them revealed.

Dean waited patiently for them both to check over their stuff and make sure they had everything before they stepped onto his hand. It was always an eerie sensation, to feel small boots stepping on like mere prickles against his skin. It was hard to believe that two people could fit so easily in his palm.

Lifting them away from the table, Dean took a second to glance over both small brothers. "Sit tight, alright?" he said as he held them next to the pocket. The darkness inside was almost taunting as first Sam, then Jacob slid down and vanished inside. The pocket flap closed over them and Dean found himself shaking his head in amazement. There was almost no sign past a slight bulge in the pocket that they were even in there.

He brushed a hand over the pocket as he walked to the door, making sure both brothers were settled. The duffel was already packed with everything Dean owned that wasn't already in the Impala waiting for them, so he was ready to go. The news article was shoved in an outside pocket of the bag so he could check it out later for additional clues he or Sam might have missed. Just a brief glance around the room revealed no sign that two people smaller than Dean's ring finger had stayed there, and that was for the best. None of them wanted to put others their size at risk.

A glare of blinding sunlight shone in Dean's eyes as he left the room behind. He squinted in the bright light to see where the Impala was parked. He nodded at one of the nearby motel guests, standing out in the parking lot to smoke with the door to her room wide open behind her. Wondering what was the point of coming outside only to let all the smoke in, Dean shook his head one more time and casually strode to the car.

Tossing his duffel in the back, Dean climbed into the front. A brief glance towards the smoking woman showed her to have vanished back into her room, so he deemed it safe to take out his hidden passengers. They might not be able to call shotgun, but they definitely wouldn't want to sit the entire ride out inside a pocket. Dean slipped two fingers into his pocket, waiting for them to signal him to lift them out. The first time he'd plucked them out and got himself scolded over it, and now he simply avoided scooping them up unless he was in a hurry.

Once they were on Dean's hand, Jacob shared a glance with Sam and nodded. He held his bag tucked close as Sam gave Dean the go-ahead. The two fingers propping the pocket open were joined by two more as Dean, given permission, reached into the pocket to retrieve the diminutive pair. The sight still made Jacob stiffen, though he was working on adjusting.

Everything he'd been taught for three years told him that this was the worst situation to be caught in. That human hands were one of the biggest threats to people their size. And yet, even though the fingers curling under them didn't make for the most graceful transportation, Jacob knew he'd be fine. He and Sam rolled onto Dean's palm like they had a number of times already, perhaps disoriented but unharmed. Dean wouldn't let them be jostled around too much.

It only took seconds for Dean to bring his hand to his shoulder, whereas the climb from his pocket would have taken Jacob a minute or two. Sam settled closer to Dean's neck, like always. Jacob sat a little farther out, away from the steady pulse that thrummed near Sam's perch. There wasn't room for both of them to sit that close to the collar, though Jacob thought he was improving at keeping his balance farther out.

"What'll you do while resident geek-boy and I check the details, Dean?" he asked, appreciating that on Dean's shoulder, there was no need for them to raise their voices. Dean could hear just fine from that close.

Sam rolled his eyes at the nickname he'd acquired, trying to nudge the shirt under Jacob with a boot to knock him off balance. Lucky for Jacob, it was snug enough around the broad shoulder under them to not give into Sam's motions and jostle him. He wouldn't have to haul himself back up … this time.

Dean grinned, not realizing the trouble Sam was trying to get into on his shoulder. He was too busy with the car to have time to glance in the rearview mirror. He kept it set up so that his shoulder was in view at all times, along with the back window for while he was on the road.

Leaning forward slightly, Dean shoved the key in the ignition, making both smaller brothers grab onto the fabric they were sitting on so they weren't jarred by the swaying motion. The engine roared to life and Jacob flinched slightly, still unaccustomed to the noise.

"I'll be doing what I always do," Dean said as he backed up the car from the spot in front of their room. "Someone's got to scan the place for EMF, and unless you've got a truck hidden somewhere in those bags of yours, it won't be the two of you." Jacob might actually be able to lift up the meter with his enhanced strength, but he wouldn't be able to cart it around the entire house in a timely manner.

"Not to mention, I've got to keep an eye out for you guys. Y'know, show you the ropes. I can't have you getting in trouble when I'm not around." Dean tried to see Jacob from the corner of his eye, smirking. There was no hope of spotting Sam, not with him leaning against his neck, but Jacob was just barely in view.

Jacob caught the look and met it with a smirk of his own and an exaggerated roll of his eyes. He would have waved a hand, but he had to keep a grip on the fabric beneath him to avoid feeling like he'd tumble to the bench seat. "Eh, how much trouble could two upstanding guys like us really get into?" he quipped. Considering they all remembered his prank on Sam just a short time ago, he didn't bother trying to sound serious. He was a terrible liar.

Jacob's gaze drifted past the mirror to the windshield, giving a wide view of the town as it slipped by. Sitting up on a shoulder like that meant that Jacob could pretend he was riding in a car at normal size again. But in reality, the wide storefront windows passing in the distance would be several baseball fields to him, the license plates of the cars parked on the street like billboards. Sometimes, Jacob felt like the world had grown around him, rather than the opposite.

Jokes aside, Jacob was keenly aware of the kind of trouble they could get into. If a human other than Dean got their hands on them, it was all over. Anything could happen. It was lucky Sam had his ability to tell if someone was glancing their way. It'd suit them perfectly in something like this.

"How much trouble did you two get in the last time you were in a room with people that didn't know you were there?" Dean shot easily back. Of course, he'd been the person in that room, and he'd managed to not only terrify, but catch Jacob in a fist before he was able to escape. That could have been anyone that caught him, and he'd be just as powerless to stop it.

"Not that I'm planning on you two being around any other humans, but shit happens. And on a hunt, you might want a little backup when you're searching around a spirit's hunting grounds. Some won't respond to anyone but their chosen type of victim, but others lash out at everyone."

As he pulled onto the street, he continued on. They might not need the information, but then again, it might come in handy. He couldn't see it, but Sam already had his small journal out, carefully transcribing his words onto paper. Reciting the knowledge gave Dean a feeling he'd missed from so long ago, of being a big brother again with people to look out for and show the ropes. "There was this one case, right when dad went missing. The spirit was a 'Woman in White.' She'd prowl up and down the highway she'd killed herself on. Any men who picked up the hitchhiking ghost were never seen again."

Dean held up a hand. "But there was a connection between all these random men. She wasn't just goin' after any guys that drove down the road. She was targeting men that cheated on their girlfriends or wives. Now, she tried to come after me, but she couldn't do anything. All her rage was reserved for assholes like the man she married. I, on the other hand, don't have a girlfriend waiting for me or a wife. So I found her bones and salted and burned the corpse. End of story."

Jacob listened with rapt attention. His eyes were wide to hear that Dean had nearly been targeted by the rage of a restless ghost. How could someone fight against that? Dean had all his weapons and tricks, but all it would take was one second caught unawares for something like that to make its mark.

"Lucky you weren't her type," Jacob muttered. The thought of ghosts having a fixation on a certain kind of person reminded Jacob of what they said about serial killers. That's really what they were, if all they did was try to kill any target, like it might give them the release they needed. It made him wonder about their current case. Did the ghost, if it really was a ghost, have a type? Would one of them fall into its category and become a target?

"She did manage to possess the Impala for a hot second," Dean mused. "I think that's the closest she got to actually taking me out. I had to jump off a bridge and everything. That was a fun dive." And messy. He'd been covered in mud up until going to get a room... and discovering that his father already had a room in town.

Before skipping town, Dean pulled through a Biggerson's drive-thru. Sam and Jacob both huddled close to his neck to keep out of sight of the window while he grabbed some breakfast for them all. Sam still refused to actually ask for what he wanted, so Dean ended up grabbing a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich. At least with that, there were different options for them to both try. One day he'd figure out what Sam liked to eat.

He parked the car in a corner of the lot briefly. With the sandwich unwrapped, he pinched off two corners, trying to get a bit of everything for them to try in their own mini-sandwiches. It was at least a start, after everything they'd missed growing up.

"Do me a favor, and try not to get crumbs on my jacket," Dean grumbled, hiding a smile of his own at the look on their faces. It still shocked him how much they'd missed out on. It was like he'd handed them the holy grail when they took the small sandwiches. Like they hadn't seen food like that in years.

And they haven't, Dean reminded himself sternly. He needed to keep in mind their separate upbringings. Warm food wasn't something they ever got to eat when they lived back at that motel. It did explain exactly why Jacob had been so possessive of his tiny bite of pizza while he was trapped, going so far as to wrap it up in a shred of napkin. Their entire family could eat well from what was barely a bite for Dean.

If only he could do more.

Of course, their adopted parents, Walt and Mallory, wouldn't want much to do with a human. Sam had shaken his head 'no' when Dean offered his help. He'd have to find a way to thank them one day for what they'd saved for him. His little brother's life. It was everything for Dean, and now he not only had Sam back, but he had Jacob. An adopted brother that had been rejected by his family and actually wanted to come with Dean, the guy that had trapped and come close to simply leaving the motel with him in tow.

"Thanks," Jacob said appreciatively, while he moved back to his place on the broad shoulder. He'd huddled closer to Dean's collar only to avoid the window clerk spotting him. He worried that if he and Sam crowded each other like that all the time, one of them might fall. The voice of the cashier, an unfamiliar and big human, still lingered. Hearing human voices from outside the muffling of motel walls was so different from what he'd grown used to. Even Dean, who was learning to speak quieter for their benefit, had a voice that could shake Sam and Jacob to the core.

Despite that, it was comforting to know they had someone so powerful looking out for them. Jacob knew Dean wasn't kidding when he worried about some other human getting a hold on them. They might be completely helpless in an enormous grasp, but Dean sure as hell wouldn't be helpless.

Despite having been caught himself by the human he now traveled with, Jacob knew without a doubt that Dean would help them in a heartbeat if they needed it. After all, he'd saved Jacob from the frustrated wrath of his parents when they rejected him.

Jacob took a bite of the sandwich Dean had managed to cobble together, squished bread and all. Holy shit. Real bacon. He closed his eyes to savor it. Flavors he hadn't enjoyed for years assaulted his senses like a tide. No one at the motel tended to have bacon or eggs. Nothing since leaving the motel with Dean had hit him as hard as the flavor of his first pizza in three years, but it all came close. Sam had gone a full decade longer without such things.

"Good choice for the most important meal of the day," Jacob mused, managing to find his balance enough to hold onto the food with both hands. No way he'd risk dropping it.

"Hey, we gotta make sure you two have plenty of food in you for your first case," Dean managed to mumble around his sandwich, wasting no time with it. "Just in case it gets exciting."

He wanted to get back on the road as soon as possible. The presumed spirit was only a few towns over so it would be a quick drive in the car before they arrived at the house. With any luck, there would be no family around and they could get in and get out with no one the wiser.

Interviews with family members would be another step they might need to take if there were no clues to what had happened. Being able to tell when someone was lying was a skill Dean had picked up from the poker games he'd play at various bars around the country, and it was a definite asset.

His sandwich was relatively smaller, so he was the first to finish in the car. Dean tossed the wrapper on the seat next to him. He could clean it once he didn't have the other two chilling out with their food on his shoulder. So while they ate through one of their best meals in years, he started up the car again and drove towards their next case.

A/N:

I'm drunk. Terrible day at work, eff my life. This is why chapters are edited and written in advance

Oh yea, this is a short story so voting for the next story starts this weekend and we'll be using a new, easier format so I can handle it between the multiple websites.

Next: November 3rd, 2016

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