Sam didn't even need to consider his answer but he glanced up at Dean and Bobby first. The important part of the promise would need to come from them, after all. The people here would have a hard time believing that Sam made the decisions for humans on occasion. Or even at all.

Sam's trust in the hunters paid off. Bobby bobbed his head in acknowledgement of Arthur's words. "That's more'n fair," he grumbled in reply, his gruff voice lowered for everyone's benefit. "Though lord knows I can't keep all the children that wander through off my property. They tend to slip through." His voice was full of warning for things he couldn't control. He shifted so he was leaning a little closer. "Jus' you remember, you're as welcome in my house as Sam and Dean, if you ever need it."

Dean nodded along with him. "Sorry for the whole, uh... stomping around thing."

Sam smirked, glad to see the tension lessening between the humans and the people his size. "Heavyweight," he jabbed at his brother.

Dean nudged him in the side. "Not my fault you're weightless, shorty."

The lighthearted teasing didn't even make Sam nervous this time, a fact that made his chest (and Dean's) blossom with warm pride.

Arthur shook his head, baffled by the brothers' interaction - it was so normal, despite their differences. "You are not what I expected out of humans," he informed Dean and Bobby. "I find myself curious how this will go."

A voice called to him and Alyssa from the entrance to the tunnel. He glanced over his shoulder, eyes tightening a little before he turned his attention back to the humans. "Sam. You're always welcome here with us, no matter who or what you used to be. We would never deny you a place because of it. And... your humans don't seem to be as bad as we were taught they'd be."

Sam's thoughts on how Dean and Bobby had been referred to as 'his humans' were interrupted when Arthur stuck out a hand for Sam to shake.

"I'll try to keep an open mind for the future," Arthur said dryly. "I have a feeling we're going to need it. Things are changing these days, faster than I can keep up." He gave the humans one last solemn nod before he turned to leave.

Sam watched as he and his daughter vanished into the cavernous opening, a little shocked at the way it had all gone. He'd expected them to leave Bobby's property and never look back. Something must have convinced them to stay.

He found himself wondering what it could have been even as he scaled up the arm Dean still had braced against the ground. When he reached the 'summit,' instead of just sitting down and securing himself like normal, he gave Dean's neck a resounding smack.

Then sat down.

"Ow!" Dean griped, going to a stand even as he tried to rub the place he'd been hit. With Sam sitting square in the way, he only succeeded in his fingers getting smacked out of the way by a tiny hand. "Dude, what the hell?!"

"You have to ask?" Sam snipped back as Dean and Bobby started to pick their way through the field to return to the house. Both were extra cautious about where they put their boots now that they'd finally met the people that called the field their home.

Rumsfeld didn't move, merely watching the trio leave. He lay his head back onto the ground, letting out a sigh as he watched the burrow hopefully, wanting to see if anyone would come pay him a visit after all the excitement.

Once again, Bobby was smart enough to stay out of the bickering, though he was clearly holding in a smile during the journey back.

At the same time, he found himself going over the revelation of Arthur and the others. Never in his life had he expected to have the opportunity to meet them, though in the past he'd had occasion to see some of Sam's people, including one blond man he'd rescued from a cage years back.

That time, the man hadn't said a word the entire time he'd been trapped, simply watching Bobby pick the lock of his cage with suspicion clear on his face. After opening the cage and carefully lifting it to the ground, Bobby had received a sharp nod of approval past the suspicion and the fear. It was more than he'd expected to receive, easily, especially after the way humans had carelessly trapped him like that. He'd even seen a second of respect flash through those small blue eyes, seconds before the man vanished beneath a bed.

Never to be seen by Bobby at that motel again.

Before discovering Sam, he'd only ever talked to two others. During two separate cases, he'd been warily approached once they'd discovered what he was really there for (and it had nothing to do with capturing them). They'd given him the information he'd needed to save lives and he'd be forever grateful to them.

For years he'd been afraid of sharing the secret of the littles he'd stumbled over with other hunters, especially one John Winchester. He found himself wondering if it would have helped if he'd told Dean sooner. Would the brothers have adjusted to each other faster?

He'd been so afraid when he'd found that small satchel left on its own in Dean's room. Afraid that in the years since he'd seen the boy, Dean had let John's blind obsession transform him into someone unrecognizable.

A hunter that killed anything supernatural, dangerous or not.

Thankfully, Sam had simply forgotten to grab the bag in his hurry to dive for cover from an unknown human breaking in. Dean's decency remained intact. It had certainly given Bobby the shock of a lifetime to see the small guy stand up and introduce himself, taking a leap of faith that he wouldn't be hurt or grabbed by this unknown human.

It had paid off in the end for all of them.

Now, Bobby walked along behind Dean, watching the tall hunter interact with his downsized brother.

It always gave Bobby hope to see how normal the pair treated their interactions. Sam clearly didn't have a problem telling off his older brother, and Dean was certainly inventive in his retaliations, never once putting Sam at risk. Even as Bobby watched, Dean shrugged his shoulder just enough to toss a bitching Sam against his neck (one of his favorite comebacks), to give himself a breather before the griping started up again.

When they got back to the house, a small dinner was made and devoured without wasting any time. Bobby was left on his own as the pair decided it was high time for a movie night, now that all the repairs were finished. He even overheard Sam telling Dean about this great idea he'd gotten from a movie one of the other nights, wanting them to both learn Morse Code so they could still talk if Sam was hidden in a pocket on a case. The ingenuity of that boy never ceased to amaze Bobby. His lack of size was merely a challenge, not a disadvantage.

The last time he saw them that night before he turned in, they were on the couch. A Chuck Norris movie was on. Dean was sprawled out with a beer in hand, taking over as much of the couch as he could. Rumsfeld had curled up next to him, preventing his complete couch potato conquest, and Sam...

At first Bobby couldn't spot his smallest house guest. Then, movement right next to the hand Dean had draped over Rumsfeld's head caught his eye.

Sam was using the side of Rumsfeld's head as a backrest, with his legs kicked out onto Dean's thigh, putting him squarely between the two Godzilla-sized giants. He didn't seem concerned in the slightest about being surrounded like that, simply munching away on his snack and sipping the beer Dean had poured him. He'd taken advantage of Bobby's house there, making himself a tinfoil cup so he could drink out of a properly sized cup while they were visiting. Dean and Bobby had pretended not to notice when Sam packed extra tinfoil in his satchel to save for later.

Rumsfeld never even sniffed at the oversized kernel of popcorn in Sam's hands. When Dean's hand moved in a slow scratch of Rumsfeld's ear, Sam didn't budge, staying completely intent on the television.

Bobby left them to it.

Sam woke with a gasp in the middle of the night, rubbing his arms to get rid of the goosebumps. He shivered in the warm night air, chilled despite himself. He tried to shake the images from his nightmare out of his mind.

Flashes hit him. Being grabbed, pushed casually around... a massive hand coming at him, but instead of being grabbed, his satchel was pinched between two thick, relentless fingers. Sam had ended up dangling from it in midair, desperately clawing to get it back, completely panicked that the well-loved bag would shred from his weight. He'd been helplessly shaken off, falling until he hit a fleshy surface suspended in midair.

The last part he remembered that sent a shiver of shock up his back had been the icy, heartless green eyes examining his possessions while Sam was trapped in the clutches of the other hand, acting like he was as inconsequential as a toy.

Dean.

In the darkness, Sam tried to relax. No. Dean would never do that to him. Not in a million years. Dean was the one person he could rely on in any situation, and that would never change. He needed to get past these fears that were holding him back.

Mind made up, Sam pulled himself out of bed, padding quietly out of his small room. He only paused to scoop up the finished bracelet, tossing it over his shoulder.

The air was cooler outside his cubby. He took in a deep breath, enjoying the refreshing feel. In the darkness, the familiar furniture had become dark monuments that towered over him. His pulse pounded in his head, reminding him of the terrifying flashes that had forced him away from sleep.

Determined, he started his hike towards the only bed in the room. He could hear calm breathing in the distance, a sign that pointed towards the resident hunter's peaceful rest. He didn't waste any time pulling himself up the bed.

Dean was motionless when Sam reached the top, his eyes closed and the expression on his face so peaceful that it surprised Sam. It always seemed like his brother was taking on the weight of the world when he was awake. It was good to see him calm, even if it was just in sleep. One day, Sam hoped to be able to help Dean share that burden.

Until then, all he could do was be there for him. Pushing away the nightmare that had snapped him out of sleep, Sam climbed up Dean's shoulder. The flannel pocket was inviting, promising warmth and safety for the smaller hunter.

He slipped in, leaving one arm out of the pocket, clutching the bracelet he'd made with painstaking care. His eyes closed almost before he was settled, tension and fear vanishing with the steady rise and fall of the chest under him.

For the first time since being taken, Sam let his guard down completely around Dean and fell into a peaceful rest.

"Sam?"

A voice pulled at him, dragging him away from the deep, peaceful rest he'd fallen into. Sam groaned, stretching his arms out.

He blinked sleepily at the world around him, realizing there was a hand close by. A hand that had a familiar bracelet pinched between two fingers.

"Dean?" he replied in confusion, rubbing his eyes. He couldn't remember how he'd ended up in the pocket. Or how Dean had gotten hold of the bracelet he'd been working on. "What… is it morning?" He couldn't make his brain get itself completely in gear to piece things together.

"What is this?" came the response. "Did you… did you make this for me?" There was a surprising amount of awe in Dean's voice.

Sam tried to get himself out of the pocket and regain his bearings. Another hand slipped in, lightly pinching his waist and pulling him out. Sam wobbled in place when he was finally out and standing on a solid (semi-solid) surface.

"I, ah…" he worked to remember what was going on. "Your bracelet. They burned it off…" Suddenly, he wondered if Dean would even want it. What if Dean didn't like the new bracelet? It wasn't black like his old one, after all…

He didn't look at Dean as the other hunter started to pull himself up from the bed. Sam found himself falling into a hand, caught long before the surface he was on turned vertical. "How did you make it?" Dean's voice came again. "This is… perfect!"

Sam glanced up and couldn't stop widening his eyes when he saw that Dean had already put on the bracelet. The size fit the hunter's wrist perfectly, filling in the space that had been abandoned by the loss of the previous bracelet. "Really?" he asked. "I wasn't sure if you'd like it… I've been gathering scraps all week and fitting them into it. I wanted to make it right for you after everything else you've gone through… it just wasn't right without your bracelet."

Dean let out a laugh. His eyes were bright as he turned his wrist over to take in the workmanship on the bracelet. "You read my mind, pipsqueak. It hasn't been the same since that bitch tried to charcoal me along with the bracelet." He tapped Sam's shoulder with a finger. "Thanks, kid." Then he grinned broadly. "Now, I've got a little something of my own to show you. Go get yourself together for the day. I've been waiting all week for this."

Still vaguely confused, Sam got dressed and gathered his stuff, tossing on his satchel before stepping out of the small alcove under the bookshelf. He grinned at the desk that sat behind the row of books outside his small entrance. A few sheets of paper were scattered over the top. He'd wasted no time jumping in and starting on the new material Dean had stocked him with. With all of this, he didn't need to be as economical when he took notes, trying to save space because he didn't know when he'd be able to get more supplies. Instead, he had a huge supply, just ready and waiting for him.

With Sam on his shoulder, Dean made his way downstairs, passing by Bobby, who was once again buried in a book doing research for another hunter. He gave them a brief nod before returning to his work.

The Impala was waiting for them outside, gleaming black. Her paint job was fixed, with not a single scorch mark left on the outside. Sam eyed up the car, impressed. She might as well be brand new at a dealership with all the care and attention Dean had put into her repairs.

Dean strolled casually up, opening the driver's side door with a familiar creak. "What do you think? Good as new!" he proclaimed with a smile.

Sam smiled back, but asked with a little bit of suspicion, "So is that what you wanted to show me?"

Dean winked, then held out a hand. "There's a little surprise for you waiting under the seat. Want to check it out?"

More suspicious than ever, Sam stepped on. Dean lowered him down, then flattened himself down on the floor of the car so he could see.

Sam blinked in surprise, and took a few steps forward. There was a metal box sequestered directly under Dean's seat. The bottom was welded to the floor of the Impala. Thin slits ran up every side, offering a glimpse into the darkness inside. "What…"

Dean nudged him with a knuckle, pushing Sam a few inches forward. "Trust me. You're gonna love this."

Sam sent him a bitchface for the push on principal, then went up to it. He couldn't reign in the curiosity. He brushed a hand over one of the edges, observing the thick metal welds that held the four walls together. He knocked against it, noting how thick the metal was.

There was a door on the side that faced directly under the seat, so it was hard to spot. With a grunt, he shoved at the slot on the side, pushing it all the way open. Inside, the slits of light that made it that far into the Impala lit up a strangely cozy scene. There was a devil's trap painted on the floor, along with several other warding symbols. When he was all the way in, he saw a metal bar he could push against the door, and a small lock that he recognized as being used in airports for luggage, along with two keys for it. He could snap the lock over the bar. It would seal him in completely.

Sam poked his head out of the small room. "Dean, is this…"

"A panic room, just for you!" Dean said with a grin, barely containing his excitement and pride. "I've been working on it most of the week. Ilyana's attack was only surface level damage. This is what's held us up so long." He tried to squeeze in closer, and managed to get an arm under the seat. His hand pointed out the slits. "These will give you air. There's a lock so you can seal it off, and demon warding to keep anyone out. Once you lock that door, there's no way in for me or anyone else around." Dean frowned a bit. "I got the idea on that case with the scarecrow. With something like this, we don't need to worry about you being in danger if there's vics that I need to drive around, or if we get attacked. You have a safe house."

His finger poked into the small panic room. "There's also a trap door inside. I made you a safe way in and out of the car. See if it works. I couldn't really try it out myself."

With that, his hand withdrew from under the seat. Sam didn't take any notice as Dean peeled himself off of the ground, stretching up out of sight. He was far too curious about what Dean had just told him.

He took another look around the inside of the room as the car shook from Dean exiting it. There was a handkerchief in one corner, along with a miniature bottle of water (half his height, but he'd be able to open it) and a bag of trail mix. Supplies, in case he needed to keep out of sight for some time. A way to weather out an attack.

Sam pushed the handkerchief out of the way, and blinked. Sure enough, there was a sliding trap door. He gripped a slot in the side, shoving it open. The darkness below was only broken by a few bits of light that snuck in past the welds and metal that Dean had used to make it with.

Sam dropped down, hitting the ground with a metallic clang. Glancing up from his crouch, the metallic tunnel under the car stretched away from him. In the distance, he could see light coming from an entrance. Hitching his bag up on his shoulder, Sam started his trek, examining the careful workmanship that had gone into the new addition to the bottom of the Impala.

When he reached the opening, he peered down. A few feet stretched out before him. He knelt down, carefully touching at a notch in the floor.

"Like it?" came a voice from below. Sam glanced over the edge. Dean was peering up at him, stretched out under the Impala again on his creeper once more. "That notch is for your hook. If you want to get in when I'm not around, all you gotta do is climb in from here."

"Dean, this is… holy crap," Sam said, still in shock. He actually had a way in and out of the Impala on his own now. "You made this for me?"

"Course!" Dean almost came across as surprised. "Sam, whether we find a cure for your curse or not, or you end up wanting to stay that size, you shouldn't have to need me for every little thing in life. This car is as much your home as it is mine. And now you know that for sure."

He held a hand up to the edge, and Sam took a few steps over the outstretched fingers. He sat down and crossed his legs to keep steady while Dean rolled the creeper out from under the gleaming black classic car.

Dean kicked open his cooler, snagging a beer for them to share. Sam sat on the hood of the Impala again, drinking from a bottlecap bigger than his head. He grinned up at his big brother. "So, we heading out again?"

Dean smirked. "You bet. Bobby caught wind of a case for us up in northwestern Illinois. There's some kind of problem with the wolves up there, according to the local paper. I'm thinking a werewolf on the prowl, upsetting the local campers and hikers. The lunar cycle's right." He held up his beer to clink it against Sam's bottlecap for a small toast. They both drank.

"You up for a trip to the woods?"

Sam grinned and took another long sip. "Ready and waiting. Can't wait to head out."

FIN

A/N

Sam has finished his secret project, Dean's revealed what he's really been working on for so long and there's a new case on the horizon! Life is back to normal at last!

A Lich of Sense arrives December 11th! Stay tuned for the sneak peek that goes up on Sunday on the tumblr!