A/N
The end is here at last!
I'd like to thank everyone for the lovely reviews, you inspire me to keep writing! I know, it's sad for the story to end, but I will have a new story starting up next week, so stay tuned if you enjoyed this! There's more on the way!
Less than forty minutes later, Dean was standing on the stone pathway in the backyard of Jenny's house. As it was the driest place they could find, Sam had decided to build the fire there. The light from the porch gave them enough light to be able to see what they were doing without the flashlight, which Sam had left to the side of the pathway. Dean watched as Sam made a thick circle of salt around him and the pile of ingredients for the ritual. To be on the safe side, Sam also made a smaller circle of salt just around Dean. So far they hadn't seen either the witch's spirit or the cat, but Dean doubted it would stay that way long.
The wind blew ominously through the trees. Dean estimated it to be well past midnight, an unfriendly time of night. He couldn't stop from shivering slightly while he waited for Sam to finish setting up, still damp from the storm earlier, and the clouds overhead seemed to point to more storms on the way. The hoot of an owl echoed through the night and Dean put his hand on his gun, knowing he was small enough for a snack.
Once Sam was done, he straightened. "Alright, all we need now is the oak from the tree and we'll be able to do the cleansing ritual." He lifted the iron axe he'd taken from the Impala's trunk off the ground.
Dean scowled. This was his least favorite part of the plan. He had to stay put, safe and protected in the salt line while Sam took all the risk, infuriating the witch's spirit into attacking. There was no way she would stay behind the scenes when they did this. And Dean was sure the cat would be around, too. Which was why his other hand was firmly wrapped around his sawed-off, already loaded and ready. He only had two shots left of salt shells so he had to make them count.
Sam went up to the tree, grabbing one of the thicker branches near the bottom. They weren't going to waste their time chopping the whole thing down, all they needed was enough for a fire and the branches themselves should be able to do it. He sliced down with the axe, impacting the branch with a hollow THUD. And again, chopping almost all the way through.
Dean glanced away when the porch light suddenly flickered overhead. "Oh, no," he muttered, pulling out his flashlight. That was the last thing they needed. He saw Sam glance worriedly over in his direction. "I'm fine, keep going!" Dean yelled in his direction, hoping he was loud enough.
Sam must have heard, because he got back to work on the branches right away. With a third powerful swing, the branch snapped off, thudding into the ground. He started on the second branch quickly, not wanting to be away from Dean any longer than necessary.
The porch light flickered over Dean's head again when Sam started on his sixth branch. And then it went out. The yard was cast into complete darkness. Dean heard Sam swearing out of sight in the night. "Sammy! You ok?" Dean called out.
"Yeah, just missed the branch on that last swing."
Dean clicked on his flashlight, illuminating the salt ring around him. And stumbled back, swearing. The black cat was crouched down right outside the ring of salt, dual tone eyes reflecting the flashlight's glow back at Dean. Catching himself before he tripped out of the smaller ring around him, Dean froze, staring the cat down. Beyond the glow of his small flashlight, he could hear his brother walking closer, gravel crunching beneath his boots. Dean couldn't help but feel nervous that he couldn't see Sam at all now.
The cat growled at Dean, a low, rumbling sound that echoed in the night. With the growl, the wind whipped up with an unprecedented force. Out in the night, he heard Sam shouting his name "Dean!" He ignored his brother for the moment, barely able to keep on his feet from the power of the wind. He was powerless to do anything as he watched the two salt rings around him dissipating into the wind. Dean covered his eyes to block the salt grains from blinding him. The second he lowered his arm from in front of his face, he saw the cat leap at him, claws outstretched and death in its eyes.
Time seemed to slow. Dean stumbled back, hampered by his leg as he tried to pull his sawed-off up in time. Before he could get the gun up, a huge voice filled the yard. "DOWN!" Sam yelled. Dean hit the ground without a thought. A massive explosion sounded off, the cat fading into air as the salt from Sam's gun hit it. Salt sprayed across the ground inches away from Dean, thankfully missing his curled up form. A boot slammed into the ground barely an inch away from Dean. His eyes widened at the proximity, hauling himself back to his feet as fast as he could to get out of the way. He came to a sudden stop when another boot hit the ground on the other side of him, fencing him in.
"Ok, guess we're staying put," he muttered to himself, knowing Sam wouldn't hear him from this distance. Sam left him on the ground, panning the gun around the yard while he stood protectively over the tiny hunter.
It seemed they had a few moments peace. Sam grabbed the flashlight off the ground, and ran back to the tree. The branches he had cut off would have to do. He snapped them into smaller pieces as fast as he could until he had enough for a fire. In the distance, he heard his brother's tiny voice ring out, "Sam! Behind you!"
Sam whipped around right as the witch herself slammed him into the wall. His head bounced off the windowsill with a hollow thunk and he slumped to the ground.
Dean cursed as the witch advanced on him. He couldn't see if Sam was alright from where he was, but from the lack of sound or movement from his brother, it wasn't looking good. Belinda herself glared down at him as he approached, shrieking out "Mine, you shall never have him!" The moment she was close enough, he fired his shotgun, dispersing her for the moment. Hopefully that would keep both her and the cat away long enough.
He ran toward where he could see Sam's flashlight still shining from on the ground, against the wall of the house. "Sam!" He called out, hoping it would be that easy for his brother to rouse. No such luck. It took him over five minutes to cross the ground between them, dodging between blades of grass and mud puddles from the earlier storm. At one point the wind whipped up around him, making it hard to see past the rustling stalks of grass. The whole time he found himself praying to the air that the cat wouldn't come back, and there were no creepy crawlies between him and Sam. There were definite disadvantages to this size, and Dean had the feeling that he was getting the worst of them.
Reaching Sam at last, he ran past massive legs and arms splayed on the ground. From the look of things, Sam had hit the wall of the house head-first. He didn't stop running until he reached his brother's face, pressed against the garden mulch. Briefly, he stopped in front of Sam's mouth, almost as wide as he was tall. Keeping his mind off how weird this all was, Dean held his hand out to check if Sam was breathing. Thank God, he thought when he felt a steady breeze. Checking the rest of his brother, he cringed at the blood matting his brother's long hair, hoping that Sam didn't have a concussion. Growing desperate to wake him, Dean punched Sam's cheek, hoping that it would be enough to pull him out of dreamland. "Sam! Come on, this is no time to catch up on your beauty sleep!"
There was no response to anything he did. Concern overcame Dean. If he couldn't wake Sam up, there was no way for him to break this curse. He was too small to do anything with the equipment they had, or the branches for the fire. He'd end up dinner for a kitty cat, and he had no doubt Sam would soon follow, killed by either the witch, or downsized to catnip. C'mon Sam, I can't do this without you! Going up to Sam's eyelid, he pulled it up and shone his flashlight into it. The hazel pupil was unresponsive and unmoving. "Sam!" He called again, snapping the eye shut. Dean punched Sam's cheek again, followed by a few kicks while he grew frustrated with his hopeless situation. He slumped down against Sam's cheek when it didn't work, despondent.
Shrieking laughter came from behind him. He turned around, hauling himself back to his feet and moving away from Sam. The witch was standing there, infuriated eyes glowing with satisfaction at the downfall of her antagonists. Dean managed to get his shotgun pointing at her right as she slammed her fist forward, hitting him with a psychokinetic blast backward, barely squeezing off his last shot of salt a second before being blown off his feet.
He slammed into something softer than glass this time as she dissolved from sight, his back ramming painfully against something solid. He groaned, holding his already bruised ribs as best he could. He'd be lucky if they weren't broke at this point. He rolled away from whatever he'd slammed into weakly, shuddering as his body yelled at him for its abuse. Without warning, the ground moved under him, a matching groan to his reverberating through his body, followed by what felt like an earthquake of motion. Confused, Dean tried to roll over to get his feet under him, clutching at the ground for support. What the Hell is going on?
As soon as he rolled over, he found himself staring into a massive, hazel eye, bigger than his head, squinting up at him, equally confused. Startled, Dean tried to scramble away, but his brothers' ginormous nose was in the way, blocking his path. Which was what he'd landed on when he'd been thrown. It wasn't the ground he was clinging too, it was Sam's cheek. And Sam was finally conscious. The impact from me being thrown against his nose must have woke him up, Dean thought to himself. Finally.
Sam still seemed baffled by the whole thing, the huge eye furrowing at Dean as it tried to focus on his way-to-close miniature brother. "Dean?" The name echoed around Dean, confusion shining through the vibrations from Sam's voice. Dean shivered at the eerie sensation. Dean tried to scramble away from the huge, hazel eye. A shadow covered Dean as Sam's fingers wrapped gently around him from behind, pinning Dean's arms and legs to his body, effectively trapping him. Sam plucked his miniaturized brother from his face, holding him far enough away to focus on. He frowned once he could see Dean, still blinking to clear his head. "Dude, what the hell are you doing on my face?"
"I got tossed here by the witch! Now put me down!" Dean tried to wriggle free of Sam's fingers, which were firmly clamped around him. They weren't crushing him this time, but it was definitely not the most comfortable position he'd ever been in, especially considering the burning pain his ribs were still in from earlier that night. He couldn't get any of his arms or legs to budge from the strong grip Sam had on him.
Unfortunately, his brother didn't appear to hear Dean's last words. The second Dean had reminded him about the witch, his attention slid from Dean to her. He was too busy peering around the yard, scanning for the witch to notice Dean's grumblings. There was still no sign of either her or the cat, so Sam took the opportunity to haul himself to his feet, only taking note of Dean's fear from the outraged shout he let out when Sam stood fully. "Saaammm!" The tiny voice rang out in the night.
"Shit, sorry," he apologized. He'd forgotten Dean's fear of heights for a moment. He lifted up the hand still wrapped around the now pasty white, shaking Dean to his eyes, checking him over. "Did anything else get hurt when she tossed you?"
"No, I'm fine. But if you don't put me down this instant, I will make you regret it!" Dean gave Sam the most murderous glare he could dredge up while suspended in midair, doing his best not to ralph all over Sam's fingers. He tried unsuccessfully to free his arms again, still flustered from his imposed flight through the air.
Sam held in a snicker at the thought of his three inch brother trying to do anything to him. It would be like taking on a dragon armed with a BB-gun. He felt guilt overcome him right after, remembering everything Dean had been put through the last few days and here he was taking advantage of the hunter's tiny size. The laughter faded before any sound left his lips. Dean deserved to let off a little steam. Not that he'd ever tell Dean that, the last thing Dean ever needed was any encouragement to bitch or complain. He did that enough as it was.
"Whatever you want, Dean." Sam lifted him back up to his shoulder. He wasn't going to leave his brother alone on the ground again. Once he felt his tiny brother scramble up and get settled, tiny grip tight against Sam's collar, Sam strode back over to where he'd left the oak branches quickly. He gathered them up as fast as he could, knowing there was only a little time before the witch made her reappearance.
Piling them in the walkway, he coated them with as much accelerant as he'd brought with them, hoping they'd catch fire even after the storm. At least it had been some time since the rain fell. He put the pot, already filled with the mistletoe and water, overtop the piled branches, balancing it carefully.
"Okay, your turn." He scooped his brother up once more and stretched the hand Dean was in over the pot. Dean peered over the edge of Sam's hand, still nervous at the height. Sam watched his brother cut off some of his hair and drop it into the pot. Drawing his hand back to his chest and cupping his hand around Dean protectively, he pulled out a lighter. Once the fire was lit, he stood up and took a careful step back as the flames roared into sight.
Dean grabbed onto Sam's thumb at the sight of the massive flames dancing in the night. He loved a good fire as much as the next person, but it was another thing altogether seeing a fire larger than a house start up. The heat alone pushed at him, making him start sweating in the chill night air. He relaxed a little when Sam took a step away from the flames, giving him some distance from the hungry flames.
They stood like that, waiting for the pot to start to boil in the cool night air. The wind died down completely, casting the entire yard around them in a stark, nerve-wracking silence. It was too quiet. It had been at least ten minutes since the witch had reared her ugly head last, and Dean started to grow anxious. There was no way it would be this easy.
The pot started to boil, slowly. A heated haze rose from the pot, distorting the air behind it. "Ready?" Sam asked, glancing down at Dean.
"As I'll ever be," he said, pushing himself away from Sam's chest. The hand moved him over the boiling pot, fingers arcing up around Dean. He leaned over the edge, with his arm wrapped tight around a thumb. He held his hand out over the pot, letting it take in the heat from the boiling water. Dean could feel himself starting to sweat, drops of water beading along his forehead.
As his hand took in the heated air, the ring burned hotter still. Dean shielded his eyes as it started to glow, bright light from the diamonds lighting up the air around him. The ring reached an all-time high temperature, searing his finger when suddenly...
...It stopped.
Out of nowhere, a heavy weight dropped into his arms, almost dragging him over the side of the hand from its sudden appearance. Dean threw himself backwards right when Sam gasped, flexing the huge fingers around Dean protectively. The hand yanked Dean back to Sam's chest, fingers relaxing around him once he wasn't suspended over the boiling water anymore.
Safely out of danger, Dean stared in surprise at the item in his arms. The ring was now the size it had been when he'd first found it, almost a third his current height and heavy. Inside, on the center band he could see an elegant inscription:
With this ring, I thee bind, these two souls, forever mine.
"She used the ring to bind Richard to her." Dean said, shocked. "So, when we destroy it..."
"It won't just break your curse, it'll free Richard." Sam finished in a whisper, with the same surprise in his eyes. He reached for the ring Dean was holding.
Dean twisted frantically away, barely able to avoid the huge, grabbing fingers without falling off the flattened palm. He clutched the ring tightly to his chest. "No way! We are not risking you shrinking down with me, gigantor!"
"Dean, I'll be alright. The curse is suspended for the moment, remember?" He smiled down at his tiny, overprotective brother, secretly touched by Dean's obvious concern. Dean looked ready to start a fight with the huge hand hovering in his airspace in order to protect Sam. Typical Dean. "Besides, I don't want you getting that close to the fire while you're small." He reached towards it again, slower this time, to give Dean time to prepare. He didn't want to startle the little hunter off his palm. Dean hesitated for a long moment before carefully placing it on the huge fingers stretched out in front of him.
The moment Sam's hand closed around the ring, Belinda reformed in front of them. This time, she only let out a hiss of anger, slamming her fist at Sam. He was thrown backward, cupping both his hands protectively against his chest over Dean and the ring as was he slammed against the oak tree with a groan. Crumpling to the ground, he spotted the iron axe near him. Unable to check on Dean, he dropped the ring in the same hand, wrapping his fingers gently around both his brother and the ring for the moment.
He scooped up the iron axe, holding it in front of him as the witch advanced. A yowl of anger came from his side, and he reflexively struck out, slicing through the cat the moment before it would have sliced into his calves. The cat faded into the night. Sam brought the axe back in front of him, stepping toward the witch. She held her hands out again, fingers held out like claws. He felt pain slice into his chest, almost like she was gripping his lungs, squeezing till they burst. He barely kept on his feet, forcing one step after another in her direction. "Ahhh," he moaned, as the pain increased two-fold.
Before he collapsed, he managed to sweep the iron through her, dispersing her to nothingness once more. Shuddering at the pain's release, he opened up the fist he was still holding his brother in. Dean was crumpled next to the ring, unmoving. Sam nudged him softly with a thumb. "Dean?" He called out. No response. Pushing down his fear, he grabbed the ring, cupping his hand gently around Dean for protection. This needed to end NOW.
Going back over to the fire, he spread the last of the salt over the flames and tossed the ring on top. He stood guard, waiting for it to heat up enough to melt. Time passed slowly, fire crackling away. Right when he saw the ring start to melt, the witch appeared again, shrieking her agony at him. A moment before she was able to hit him, fire consumed her, spreading into the night. Sam let out a deep breath of air.
Hearing something come from behind, he turned. A man was standing in front of the oak tree, smiling. Sitting by his feet was the cat, casually cleaning its paws. The man spread his arms into the air, closing his eyes as he took in the freedom. Thank you, Sam heard a baritone voice echo in his mind. The sun peeked up over the horizon, consuming the form of Richard in a burst of light. The same way Molly had faded away after letting go. Before the cat vanished as well, it caught Sam directly in its gaze. In that look he could sense how thankful it was that he had stopped it from harming anyone else, and how sad it was for the lives that had been taken. Then it too was gone, fading into the light of the sun. Sam blinked away tears at the edge of vision. To be trapped so long... The agony Richard must have suffered all these years, unwillingly bound to the earth by the ring. And the agony the cat had suffered, torn unnaturally from the afterlife to kill and maim on a moment's whim.
Sam felt the tension leave his body at the end of their threat. He went to turn down to Dean, right before he felt a huge weight slam him down to the ground. Groaning, he tried to move his arms, which were pinned with the rest of him. A ripping noise came from his jacket. Pulling his head up, he realized Dean, no longer fun-sized, had collapsed on top of him. Carefully, he shoved his brother's body off, noticing a now normal-size pair of girl shoes sticking out of the shredded remains of his jacket pocket. "Huh, guess everything gets turned back when the curse is broken."
Once freed, Sam went over to Dean. "You have to be ok," he said, closing his eyes. At the end, he didn't know if he'd crushed Dean while the witch was tossing them around. He could have killed Dean by accident. The pain of that thought almost immobilized him for a moment before he got the strength to go to Dean. Carefully, he felt for a pulse first. It throbbed steadily under his fingers. A huge shock of relief went through him. Next, he pulled up Dean's shirt. His breath caught at the spectacular bruise pattern across Dean's entire torso, one he recognized he'd caused when grabbing Dean earlier that night. He was filled with guilt at the pain his brother must have been in all night, yet he STILL trusted Sam with his life. None of the ribs were broken, luckily. Neither were the arms or legs, and Sam let himself relax a minute amount. Dean must have just been knocked out when they hit that tree.
He sat back, thankful their trial was over. "You know, this whole thing would be so much easier if you'd waited to grow back when we got to the hotel room." He smirked to himself at the joke.
With a painful slowness, Dean felt himself returning to the waking world. A fog around his mind began to clear as he was pushed farther and farther away from sleep. Letting out a groan, he stretched out his arms. Bumping into a wood backing, he gave a start. Sitting up quickly, he gasped at the pain in his chest. Right, bruised ribs. Forgot about those.
His vision cleared up, and his surroundings made him gasp. It was their motel room. Their normal sized motel room. He collapsed back against his pillow. "Thank God," he muttered, closing his eyes for a moment, taking it all in.
"Hey, don't forget to give your amazing brother credit," he heard Sam's voice cut across the rejoicing in his mind.
"Sammy?"
"I'm here," Sam said with a smile in his voice.
Dean turned his head toward his brother's voice. He closed his eyes thankfully when he saw Sam was the same size as him. "There's no place like home," he mumbled into his pillow.
Dean pulled himself up, swinging his legs off the bed. A momentary grimace passed across his face when a twinge from his leg reminded him of the pain he'd gone through to get here. He hid the look of pain as fast as he could, not wanting Sam to fuss over him anymore. It was too late though.
"Here, we should stitch up those bite marks now," Sam walked over, the med-kit already in hand. He sat in the bed across from Dean. "How's your ribs doing?"
"They're fine," Dean said, despite the agony he felt every time he took a breath.
Sam gave him the look that clearly said I know you're lying, but I'll let that pass for the moment. Dean gave him a slightly guilty smile in response. Rolling his eyes at his brother's stubborn determination, Sam got out everything he would need to stitch Dean up. "So, what do you remember from the end last night?" He asked as he removed the now oversized gauze from the leg. Seeing Dean's wounds for the first time up close, he winced in sympathy pain. The size of the teeth that caused this were huge! Dean was lucky the rat hadn't bit down harder. As it was, they were deep, but still showed no sign of infection, a rare break for the brothers.
"I remember the ring suddenly got huge. Practically knocked me off your hand. Saw the inscription on the inside of it. Poor bastard, that Richard fellow. Stuck past the Till death do us part. That was one determined bitch, binding someone even in death. Then, nothing." He couldn't help taking in how happy he was Sam's fingers no longer stretched out longer than his body, overshadowing every move he made while binding his wound. He suppressed a shiver, which turned into a back spasm at the memory. The feelings of helplessness from the last few days hadn't left him yet.
"We got slammed against the tree by Belinda. I think you got knocked out from the shock." Sam looked down, his next sentence almost a whisper, "I thought I crushed you. You wouldn't respond when I tried to wake you."
Dean glanced up at Sam, feeling the pain in that sentence. His brothers expressive hazel eyes shone with a wetness Dean hadn't expected to see. "Well, you didn't. I'm back to normal, and once you stitch me back together, I'll be better than ever. 'Cause the awesome brother is back in town." He gave Sam his most overconfident smile, hoping to annoy Sam out of his depression.
Sam met his eyes, giving Dean a tiny smile. He continued on with his narrative once he had control of his voice again, "after that, I managed to get ahold of the axe. Blocked the witch and the cat, got the ring in the fire. After it was salted and burned..." He glanced up from the stitches, meeting Dean's eyes. "I saw Richard. Destroying the ring freed him, to wherever his spirit went. The cat too. It... hated that it tried to kill you. It never wanted to kill anyone."
Dean closed his eyes, glad. "Poor bastards didn't deserve what she put them through."
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Oh, and everything went normal sized with you. Girl's clothes, for one. Shredded my pocket when the shoes grew in it." He saw Dean smirking at his misfortune and glared back. "Bunch of bones, too. Scattered around the trees from nowhere. All those men killed back in the day. Cops are gonna have a field day once they go back to the house. They'll think some serial killer has been hiding out there or something."
Dean frowned. "Did we leave anything behind they could use to get us with?"
"No, wiped down the place before I dragged your fat ass back here. You need to cut down on the bacon cheeseburgers, dude."
"Yeah, and you're such a lightweight, Sasquatch." Sam snorted at that comeback, unimpressed.
Once Dean was all stitched back together, they both gathered their stuff from around the room. Dean scanned around the room before closing the door, remembering how different it all had been so recently. He pushed those memories out of his mind, grateful he could leave under his own power now.
He followed Sam out into the sunlight. "Oh, baby. I almost forgot!" He went over to his car, resting his head against the windshield.
From behind him, he heard Sam laughing. "Do you two need a room?"
"Don't listen to him baby, he doesn't understand us." Dean stayed like that for a few moments to spite Sam, then stood straight. Sam tossed him the keys, going around to the passenger side to get in. After getting in the car, he took a few more moments to enjoy the fact that he was looking down at everything again. Well, everything but Sam. Not to mention being able to reach the wheel and the radio without a problem.
Thinking of Sam, he cast a look over at his brother. "Sam, thanks," he said quietly. Sam met his eyes with surprise. "For everything. Without you, I'dve really been screwed these last few days." He clapped his hand on Sam's shoulder.
Sam gave him a slight smile, "Dean, you know I'd do anything for you." A cloud passed over his face, erasing the smile. "And I am so sorry you had to go through all that," he turned toward Dean, eyes deeply emotional. "Especially what I..." he trailed off, closing his eyes.
Dean rubbed Sam's shoulder reassuringly. "It wasn't your fault," he said quietly. Turning on the car, he pulled his hand away from Sam. Girly moment over, he revved up the engine, enjoying the feel of his baby for a moment. Before driving off, he gave Sam a look from the corner of his eye. "And dude, you still totally owe me a week of pie."
With Sam laughing next to him, they drove out of Indiana, to wherever the next case would take them.
All was right in the world.
FIN
A/N
Well, it has certainly been a long trip here. But at last, the ending of An Ounce of Courage! Hopefully, Dean's going to get his pie now ~
Tons of action, worry, cats, Dean getting tossed about... everything you all expect from this story...
I hope everyone is as satisfied with it as I am... you're all inspirations to keep on writing! If you have time, leave a review, critique, comment, whatever. I'd love to hear feedback on how the story was, I'm always looking to improve!