A/N:
Thanks to Christine, mermagic8, appletopine, stargazer100 and eivomlive for the great reviews!
Sam waited patiently as the door slammed shut, then stepped to the edge of the laptop. He took a seat, folding his hands together as he stared across the gap at Oscar. "What are you doing with the fabric?" he asked. His opportunities around the people his own size were few and far between, aside from the families that lived in the burrow at Bobby's. He always wanted to know more about them. What they did during the day, how they survived, all of the lessons they learned growing up. His curiosity was insatiable, and now he'd found his first teacher again after so many years. It was natural to go back to questioning him.
Oscar glanced down at the remaining fabric in his lap, and then at the loose pile of threads he'd made next to himself. He picked up a few to hold up and show to Sam. "I'm getting smaller threads," he began.
He glanced over Sam's clothes and noticed for the first time that Sam was wearing what appeared to be doll's clothing. The cloth wasn't as thick and cumbersome as something made for a human might be, but it was still notably stiffer at the seams than Oscar's clothes.
He never got a chance to learn, Oscar realized. He'd never managed to tell Sam about what he always did when he sat and did his chores in his little house while the brothers went to school.
"I weave cloth and make my clothes out of it. It's easier to wear than just using a scrap from a human shirt ... that's too hard to move around in. It'd be really heavy on me."
"Oh." Sam looked at what Oscar was wearing and compared it to what he had on. A sheepish smile came to his face. "That's pretty useful." He absently rubbed the sleeve. As much as he'd complained about the doll clothes as a kid, he'd grown to accept that it was all he had to wear. Dean had insisted on finding a high quality shop and custom ordering it all, even though he always teased Sam that he'd bring home pink princess outfits every time he left to pick it up.
Then there was the one time Sam had woken up in an actual dollhouse, in what Dean thought was the greatest prank ever, complete with a princess doll to match. He still cracked up at the memory, and avoided ever mentioning Sam's revenge for it.
"I guess… we never thought of that," Sam murmured. "Dean can sew, but I never learned before the curse hit, and after that… The needle was half my size so I didn't get the chance… All I can do is put stitches in if I have to." He didn't want to expand on that one anymore if he didn't have to, considering just how terrifying a wound on Dean big enough to require stitches would look to a guy Oscar's size. The little guy looked more skittish than he'd been when they last saw him, and that was saying something.
Oscar's mouth twisted into a thoughtful frown. Sam could do a lot of things. Amazing, adventurous things with far more bravery than Oscar thought anyone could be capable of. He had forgotten that, while Sam might be well versed on the hunting-monsters side of his life, he hadn't had much to go on for the small side of life.
Oscar was his first teacher, and they'd only managed a month of lessons way back when Sam was ten. Oscar imagined he didn't find that many more teachers since then.
"W-well, it's okay," he answered, shrugging. "It's not as big a deal to you, you're stronger than I am," he explained. Oscar's thin frame needed all the help it could get for mobility. He was frail from a lack of enough food and proper protein. He did his best, but the fact of the matter was that it was hard to get a balanced diet at their size without any help, and Oscar hadn't had help for a very long time.
He smiled faintly. "If there's time before you leave I can show you how to do it. I probably have an extra needle, too."
Sam gave him a surprised look back. "But…" He trailed off. In his mind, and he suspected in Dean's, they had no intention of leaving Oscar on his own for a second time. Unlike when they were kids, Dean was the one in control of where they went and when they left.
None of that meant Oscar would want to go with them, though.
They'd abandoned him to survive on his own when he was barely eight years old. And he had. Years later he was still in the motel, living day to day by slipping unnoticed into rooms and grabbing what he could for food.
Sam resolved to talk it over with Dean. One way or the other, they'd find a way to help their old friend. Take him with them, or find a way to get him a steady supply of food… Sam's mind raced with the possibilities. Bobby's house would be a hospitable place to live, compared to the motel. The interior was kept warm throughout the year, and Sam knew the inside of the walls were as cozy as any walls he'd ever explored. Outside was the burrow, and Oscar could always fit in there if he didn't want to try the house. Compared to the littles that lived in the motels and human homes, they could provide for themselves as adeptly as any humans.
"Whatever we have time for," Sam said. He'd talk to Dean first, then see what Oscar thought. "I'd love to learn."
Oscar smiled and rearranged his pile of threads carefully, trying to make sure they wouldn't tangle or fray too far beyond use. They were delicate enough that a breeze could send them into the air beyond his reach, so he left some of his fabric untouched and wrapped them in it.
That done, he glanced back up, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "I can be your teacher again for a while," he mused, thinking of how excited he'd been as a child to have a student. Someone who looked to him for what to do, because he was the expert in living at this size. He supposed he still was an expert, because aside from Dean, no human had ever found evidence of his existence.
Dean was just lucky like that. And abnormally fast.
"I'm guessing climbing lessons are out. You were already as good as me by the end of that month, really, you were just hesitant." Oscar remembered Sam's careful steps as he learned to climb his new thread and pin. Now that they were grown, he doubted Sam felt the need to be so cautious. Nervousness about the height had to have diminished by now.
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Dean thinks I'm crazy, but I can climb pretty much anything, including him. He still complains, but he won't move a muscle if he knows I'm around. I don't even need my hook with how thick his clothing is."
Sam let a hesitant grin grace his face. "Maybe after you teach me a few things, I can show you some of the things I learned. I owe you, after all. Any questions you have or skills you might be interested, let me know. Dean's even pretty good at combat lessons with someone our size. He got used to demonstrating moves for me and showing me if I was getting them right. And we even practice him trying to catch me, so I can get some practice at escaping a human."
Oscar's eyes were wide, and if not for his slow breathing he might be a statue. The shock of simply imagining those lessons, with Dean trying to catch Sam, left Oscar frozen for a second. He could hardly handle the stress of being chased once. He couldn't imagine letting it happen multiple times.
"Uhm," he replied, clasping his hands in his lap to hide the concerned twitch in them. "Well ... I don't ... C-combat lessons might be wasted on me. Anything I might be able to fight is probably still too strong." He smiled sheepishly. "I didn't get as strong as you did over the years."
Sam sized up his friend thoughtfully. It was obvious to anyone that looked at Sam and Oscar who was the stronger one, but strength wasn't everything. "Don't underestimate yourself." He thought about the old days, when they'd run and play in the room. Acts that were simple and taken for granted for Oscar weren't for a human… Sam couldn't imagine Dean just scaling up the side of a cliff for fun, yet both of the smaller kids had done that more than once.
"You're shorter than we are, but remember how I was surprised that I could throw the pin so far?" Sam crossed his arms. "We've figured out that people our size actually seem to be stronger than humans. They can all climb without a problem. Dean might be able to climb, but nothing like we can." He gave Oscar a reassuring look. "You can do more than you think."
Oscar smiled, his eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise. The praise lifted his spirits and he perked up out of a slump he hadn't realized had crept into his shoulders. Oscar still remembered Sam as the boy who could bicker with a human without any fear. Praise from him was a happy surprise, and Oscar was reminded of how kind his old friend really was.
"I guess you're right," he admitted, glancing down at the pile of fabric and threads. He might not be able to fight monsters, but he could eke out a living in even the slow seasons at the Knight's Inn. Dean was the only human that had ever spotted him or noticed his presence; otherwise, Oscar's stealth and care ensured he wasn't caught for around thirteen years on his own.
He chuckled. "I think I'll leave the monster fighting to the professionals."
"That's what we're for," Sam said with a laugh. He knew monster hunting wasn't for everyone. Most humans would be terrified. The world was a lot scarier for someone smaller than a finger.
Dean shifted impatiently at the diner, checking his watch for the time. Fifteen minutes.
He hated being out of the room for any length of time. Sam had proven he could handle himself, but it always struck Dean how vulnerable the smaller hunter could be when he was on his own. Now Sam had Oscar to look after, too. Both were adept and good at hiding, but still.
It didn't make being out of the room any easier.
He finally saw the hostess coming back with a bag in her hand. With a smile plastered on his face, Dean accepted his food. It was harder to charm the ladies when he was worried about his little brother, yet she still responded warmly to his attempt.
Of course, considering it was impossible to concentrate on charming a woman with Sam in his pocket, Dean just couldn't win. Sam would always elbow him the moment the conversation started to pick up if he was in a pocket.
Dean headed for the door, rolling the top of the bag down. Inside was his bacon cheeseburger, a side salad for his usually impossible-to-please little brother, and of course a slice of peach cobbler, house special.
The trip back to the motel took under five minutes. He checked his watch one last time, glad to see he hadn't passed the twenty minute mark. Setting records. The diner had prepared his food swiftly, a nice change from normal where he'd be stuck standing around during the dinner rush.
Screw that.
When he got to the door, Dean leaned against it and knocked to let them know who was there. He fumbled the key briefly with his hands full, and finally managed to push it open.
"Grubs up," Dean announced as he came into the room, checking to make sure they were still on the table before he stepped over the threshold. There weren't many reasons for them to be down on the ground so soon, but he'd never take any chances with them.
Oscar was still seated on his book, eyes fixed on Dean as he entered the room. Another startled freeze overcame him, a natural reaction to being in the same room as a human. He relaxed when he saw who it was, and then remembered the two-knock system that Sam had told him. Of course it was Dean. They'd taken care to ensure Sam would always know if it was safe when Dean came in, or if it was even Dean.
His eyes drifted to the bag dangling from Dean's hand. Oscar's stomach yowled again in demand of the food he knew was within. It was so loud that even Sam might have heard it, and Oscar looked down with a blush growing on his cheeks, thankful that Dean, at least, was too far away.
He occupied himself with gathering up his fabric and thread work, opening his bag, and setting it inside. He shoved things around in the container, making sure it was all organized and easy to get to.
And, he thought to himself, if he could sneak a little extra food into the bag while they all ate, he'd have to take the opportunity.
When the blushing receded, he looked up again. "Thanks for getting that, Dean," he said, watching the human's every step carefully so he could make sure he was out of the way on the table as the huge bag laden with food approached.
Sam hopped down off of the edge of the computer, aiming to get out of the way as Dean came over to the table. The heavy thud of the hunter's boots against the ground shook the surface under their feet.
"Anytime, Oz." Dean put the bag down to free up his hands. He cleared off the laptop, making space for everyone. The food was piping hot as he gathered it up. "One bacon cheeseburger, one salad for my crazy brother, and pie for everyone," Dean announced as he placed it all down. "Oh, and some french fries to share." He couldn't help popping one in his mouth as he tried to gather up the scattered fries from the bottom of the bag.
He left a bottlecap of soda next to Oscar's seat on the book as he sat himself down. Out of everyone in the room, Dean was the only one using the table for what it was made for. He opened up all of the to-go containers he had, briefly eyeing them to make sure Oscar would be able to get to the food.
Dean rubbed his hands together as he eyed up the food. "Help yourselves," he beckoned them. After years with Sam, he knew better than to start eating dinner before they were set. Having his hands move close to them while he was eating had a tendency to put them on edge, no matter how careful he was.
And it got him bitched at by Sam more than once when they were teenagers. So now he only did it when he was trying to purposely get under Sam's skin.
Oscar ignored the cap of soda. His eyes were on the food containers arranged in front of him like a maze of styrofoam and heat haze. He couldn't even say for certain that he stood taller than the burger Dean had gotten. Oscar could smell the meat and see the shine on the top bun from steam.
It had been a long time since he saw this much food all in one place from so close. Over a decade.
He slid hesitantly off of his book seat, and stood there for a few seconds longer before taking a few cautious steps towards the food. His stomach wanted him to dive into it, but Oscar held back.
He glanced up at Dean, noting that he really seemed sincere about letting them take what they wanted first. Dean was always more generous than any human Oscar had ever seen. His fond memories hadn't exaggerated. Dean didn't have to give away any of his food, but he was.
Oscar considered grabbing a smaller piece of a fry to tuck away in his bag immediately, but he held himself back despite a twitch in his hands that nearly went through with it. He wanted to take food back with him, but he thought he should wait until he knew if he could. It wasn't his feast, after all. Instead, he broke off a piece and set it aside before leaning further over the edge of the to-go container, standing right on the tips of his toes.
When he had claimed a piece of bread and a crumb of the burger to wrap in it, Oscar grabbed his piece of french fry and backed off hastily. He had food grasped in each hand. "It's been ages since I had warm food!"
Dean frowned at that, reminded of their friend's plight. It was hard to shrug off, considering he felt responsible for leaving the kid on his own.
Thank god he made it all those years.
"Well, you'll just have to stick around," Dean said as he folded his hands around his burger. He paused before taking a bite, and ended up pinching another small piece off. "Chances are there won't be any left in a minute," he said dryly, leaving the tiny crumb near Oscar.
Sam perched on the edge of the book with his own salad. He'd sliced the tomato and carrots up into smaller pieces, along with the cheese and folded them inside of a leaf of iceberg lettuce to make his own salad sandwich, an easy way to eat food that was too big for his size.
Dean's own sandwich was amazing, and he had to close his eyes at the first bite. "I see what the hostess meant about serving the best bacon cheeseburger in the state," he mumbled around the sandwich.
Oscar sat himself back on the book, with a little trouble thanks to how thick it was compared to his small height. He managed to perch himself without dropping any of his food, and he sat even farther back than before to make something of a table out of his lap. His feet didn't reach the floor at all now, and instead he braced them against the pages of the book.
He took a few bites of the piece of burger he claimed, and then a bite of fried potato, before pausing to sigh and appreciate the smell, and the taste of the food. It had been too long. He remembered eagerly wondering what food he might get to try every time he came to visit Sam and Dean back when he was a kid. The nostalgia was nearly as strong as his liking of the food he had now.
"I almost managed to get sausage and egg earlier today, but the hipster who dropped it noticed at the last second," he said conversationally, letting the first several bites settle and barely avoiding wolfing down the rest. "This is way better."
"I guess so," Sam said, staring down at his own food. He'd never had to scrounge for food to survive like that. It was hard to imagine living day-to-day, completely dependent on the whims of the people at the motel. Dean was always around, and he might get ornery and grouchy, but he could always be counted on.
They enjoyed the food in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Plenty of Sam's salad was leftover, since he was much smaller than the side-salad the diner made. Dean didn't finish all of his fries, but only to save room for the pie that sat to the side.
"Baby, have I been waiting for you," he said to the slice as he pulled it forward.
"Should we leave you two alone?" Sam sassed him from the seat, eliciting a brief glare from his older brother.
"Watch it," Dean grumbled, "or it'll just be me and Oz enjoying this slice of heaven."
A/N:
Yeah Dean. You try and keep that food from Sam.
Next: August 6th 2017 at 9pm est
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