Dean watched Sam try to convince the girl he was with to trust Dean. He was doing a good job with it, too. She glanced up at Dean, wide-eyed. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile in return.

They were all so small. He was used to being around Sam, but right now he had five tiny people standing near his hands. Two of them already waiting on one hand, ready to go, and Sam was trying to coax the rest out. If Dean moved in even the slightest wrong way he could send them all flying.

Dean heard a door close in the distance. His head whipped up, staring nervously at the door. If Chance had woken up, Dean was running out of time. Carrying Sam and the others meant he was in no shape for a fight. All it would take was a single punch in the wrong place to kill them all and Dean refused to take that risk.

He couldn't just leave them here while he went to check, either. They were defenseless right now. Even Sam wouldn't be able to escape with his arm broken like that. And no knife for protection.

No. Dean had to get them out of here before anything else. That was more important. After all they'd been through they deserved it. He had other methods to take care of the family, thanks to Bobby.

"Sorry guys," Dean said, mind made up. "Time's up for the easy way."

He lifted the hand holding Christian and Kara away from the ground. Christian wavered in place before he dropped down to a squat in the hand, pulling Kara close to him. Dean whispered a quick "sorry" before dropping them into the left hand pocket of his leather jacket.

His other hand reached for his brother and the other two. Dean hesitated for a fraction of a second, trying to figure out how to do this without hurting Sam's arm more. Sam was cradling it by his side while standing there. If Dean touched it in the wrong way, he could make it a thousand times worse. That limb was ridiculously fragile, especially with it already broken.

Dean scooped the three of them into his fist, shifting so Sam's delicate arm didn't get hurt. He didn't have any more time to check on Sam as he dropped them into his other pocket. They landed on the bottom in a ball, trying to scramble up in the closed confines.

Dean pulled himself to a stand, hyperaware of the slight weight on both sides. Funny to think he had five people in there, instead of his keys or his wallet. They were completely dependent on him right now. The first step he took sent both pockets swinging into his sides. Dean cringed inwardly, hating how anything he did affected them in such a big way.

He crept to the door, peeking around the edge to see if anyone was around. The hallway was empty. With slow, measured steps he walked out of the storeroom, creeping towards the kitchen.

A few steps in, he realized one of his pockets - the one with Sam in it - felt like someone was trying to get out. He glanced down, trying to see in, but the pocket was angled away from him. The struggles grew in intensity and Dean saw a small hand trying to pull someone up.

Hoping he wasn't about to scare them more, he slipped his hand easily into the pocket. All he could feel was the warm, small bodies in there, trembling at his touch. He couldn't for the life of him tell which one was Sam, or which was the girl and the older guy. Saying a prayer he wasn't about to hurt Sam's arm, he gathered them into the center of the pocket, cupping his fingers around them. One tried to struggle against him but was swept to the center with the rest. Dean's fingers alone outclassed them in strength.

Once that was all set, with them shivering in the center trying not to touch the fingers arched around them, Dean felt one lean against his hand. He couldn't help but smile. Only Sam... he thought to himself. He curled a finger around the figure, giving his tiny brother a place to sit. It was the least he could do, with everything else Sam had gone through. Was going through.

He peered around the corner into the kitchen. Chance was still knocked out, head slumped down to his chest. The bindings around his arms were in one piece. So he hadn't warned anyone Dean was there yet. They could get out of this in one piece with a bit of luck. Which left the question of who had slammed the door shut earlier...

Dean slipped his free hand behind his back, pulling out his Colt from his jeans. Nothing wrong with being prepared.

He was a few steps through the kitchen when he heard a sound from behind. His shoulders tensed.

"You're taking her away, aren't you?"

Dean flinched at the sound of the sad, soft voice behind him. His fingers closed around Sam and the others a fraction more, making them start struggling all over again. He could practically feel his heart drop at the clear panic coming from his pocket after such a little flinch. Sam was the only one not panicking, still leaning against Dean's finger and from what he could tell, trying to calm the others down. Good 'ole Sam. Always dependable no matter how wacky the situation.

Dean swung around to face the speaker behind him, keeping the gun cocked. He almost dropped it when he saw who was there. "Beth?!"

The same girl that had been running the front desk of the motel was standing not five feet away from Dean, flinching at the sight of the gun. Her brown hair was frizzy and unkempt and she stood in a long nightgown. She gave him a small smile once she was certain he wouldn't shoot her. "You recognize me," she stated, unsurprised.

He took a few steps to the side, circling around her to get the door at his back in case he needed a quick getaway. "How could I forget?" he gestured at Chance with his gun. "You were in on this?"

"No..." she stared at her feet. "They wanted me to be, but I was never 'in' on it. Chance was the one who spotted... Sam... with you." Her soft brown eyes locked on his. "I'm so sorry for what happened. I wanted to warn you, but... with my brother working there with me, I never got the chance."

Dean realized someone was pounding against his hand, trying to get his attention. He drew the hand from the pocket, peering down in surprise. With it held carefully open he saw Sam waving at him. "What?" he hissed down at Sam.

Sam flinched at his harsh tone of voice, sending guilt cascading down Dean's spine. Sam was afraid of him, something he'd hoped to never see again.

Sam recovered fast, meeting Dean's eyes almost straight above him. "Bree wants to say goodbye! Beth was her only friend here for years."

Dean caught sight of the small girl down there with his brother, still shaking whenever he glanced her way. "Alright," he acceded, his voice far softer now. His hand slipped back in, carefully scooping around just the girl. With her friend waiting above for her, she didn't struggle against Dean this time. He pulled out his hand, unfurling his fingers.

Beth's eyes softened when she saw her friend sitting there. "Bree," she breathed. She reached forward, only pausing to see if Dean would let her, then scooped Bree into her hands. "I'm so sorry for what my family did," she whispered down.

Once Bree was in Beth's hands, neither of them paid Dean any mind. He stood there, eyes scanning the dark house for any other movement that mean the rest of the family was waking up. Chance continued to lie motionless at their feet. Dean had to suppress an extreme urge to kick him in the face. He didn't want to scare anyone in his pockets, though.

Bree stood in her hand. "It's not your fault, Beth," she held out her arms as she spoke. Beth held the smaller girl to her shoulder, giving her one last hug. "I forgive you."

Dean stood nearby while they said their goodbyes, still on edge. With the amount of people depending on him right now, he wanted out of this place and back in the safety of his own car. Sam was injured and he needed to check on him.

Beth and Bree pulled out of the hug. "Oh!" Beth said, keeping her voice down. "Here," she reached into her pocket, pulling out a bundle of clothes. "I was going to give you these before my parents sold you off. They're yours, after all."

Bree took the pile from Beth with a smile, blinking away tears. "You're the only part of this place that made all these years bearable," she swore to her friend.

Beth held Bree out to Dean once her friend had the clothes in her arms. "Bye," she said. This time when Dean took Bree, she didn't struggle at all. Her small form fell against his fingers when he moved the hand down.

"Bye Beth," Bree called out, giving one last wave. She glanced up at Dean, shivering at the huge hunter holding her. "I... if Sam trusts you, I'll trust you too." She looked away from him. "After all, why else would you give me one last chance to see my best friend?"

Dean moved his hand down to the pocket again. "Try to hang on, alright? We'll be out of this place soon, I promise."

She slipped off his hand, landing back in the fabric confines. Dean let the pocket close up, sealing his brother and the others from sight once more. Turning to Beth, he gave her a tight nod. "Do yourself a favor and stay out of trouble, alright? Things will get sticky for your family after today."

She gave a sarcastic laugh. "I never had anything to do with my family's 'extracurricular' activities. I'll be fine, trust me. I've lived with them for a long time." She turned away, then paused. "Make sure she's safe, okay?"

Dean's lips edged up into a smile. "She'll be fine. I promise. Me and Sam will make sure she gets back home."

"Good," Beth said with clear relief. She left him there, standing alone in the kitchen.

Dean gave himself a good shake once that was all over. Time to get out of this shithole. He swung into motion, getting out of the house before anyone else decided to wake up at the asscrack of dawn.

The sky was turning grey when he reached the woods behind the house. The Impala was parked a quarter mile away from the house, far enough away so no one could catch wind of his presence. They already knew too much about him and Sam for comfort. He wanted out of this town for good.

On the way, he placed an anonymous call to the authorities. Thanks to Bobby he knew about the family's other dealings. The parents, before they gave up most things to find and sell off people like Sam, had been drug-runners. They didn't do it often anymore, but enough that the tip he'd given would land them and Chance in jail. All the cops had to do was look in that storeroom, on the shelves. He'd made certain of that.

Hopefully Beth managed to stay out of it all. She seemed like a good kid. Just born to the wrong family. Even after all her years in captivity, little Bree trusted her.

After ten minutes spent slowly trudging through the woods Dean spotted the shine of the Impala through the trees. He gave a relieved smile. So close to getting out of this with his brother intact. And little Kara had her father back, a huge accomplishment. She needed her father. She was far too tiny to survive in this dangerous world alone.

He rubbed the frame of the car before pulling the door open. Pausing before he climbed in, Dean realized he couldn't risk sitting down with everyone in his pockets. It would be far too easy to crush them without realizing it. He reached a hand in each pocket, wrapping his fingers around the small bodies so he could pull them out.

Bree slipped back down into the pocket, arms full of clothing. Mikael caught her before she landed on Sam again.

She twisted away, surprised by the arms around her. "Hey, hey, hey," Mikael said, trying to calm her down. "It's okay, it's just us."

"Sorry," she said, quiet. "Just... this whole thing's a lot to get used to." She glanced up at the opening of the pocket. "He's really trying to help us, isn't he?" she asked, eyes locking on Sam.

Sam gave her a half smile. "Yeah. Dean wants nothing more than us out of this place, safe. He won't try to keep you or trap you at all. Once we're out of here and back to the motel it's up to you what happens."

Dean's voice echoed around them, talking with Beth. Sam closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of safety the rumbling voice gave him. It didn't even matter what Dean was saying. Just hearing it was enough.

With Bree calmed down and Mikael relaxed, the pocket was more comfortable. Dean left them alone, keeping his hand out so they'd have more room. Sam was glad everyone had calmed down - there was no doubt in his mind that Dean wouldn't hesitate to put his hand back in if he needed to.

The whole pocket shook when Dean moved at one point, then swung into motion once again. Dean was on the move, and fast. Sam stumbled into Mikael, who caught him and steadied him in the pocket.

They all settled down, sitting at the bottom. "Sam," Bree said. "You said he's your brother. How's that even possible?" She glanced up at the top of the pocket. "How can you be related to all this? He's huge."

"I, ah... it's kinda hard to explain..." Sam tried to stumble around in his mind for a way to answer.

Surprisingly, Mikael beat him to the punch. "You're human, aren't you?" he asked, understanding blossoming on his face.

Sam twisted in surprise. "How... how do you know?"

Mikael's lips twitched. "I knew someone like you once. She got shrank when she was young. No one was supposed to know about it, but I always caught her hanging around the human rooms, staring longingly up at the furniture. Like no other person I'd seen before. Nobody wants to be in a human's room any longer than they have to." He sighed. "She told me eventually. Told me a story of how she was at the motel with her family and some tall blonde woman got into their room. There was a great flash of light and she woke up a prisoner of the woman."

Sam blinked in surprise at the story. "She... was shrank like me? How'd she get away?" Even Bree's face was rapt at the story.

"Never found out. She didn't want to talk about it. Then one day she was gone. We had no idea what happened to her until more went missing. Because she loved to hang around the human rooms, she was the first. Those people... they took us all out of the motel. So many went missing that rats and spiders and bugs started to move in where we used to live." Mikael stared down at the bottom of the swaying pocket under them. "My wife was killed by a rat because of what they've done."

"I... I'm so sorry..." Sam said, upset at the revelation. He'd run into rats before, with Walt. They'd made sure to hunt and kill off any that tried to infest the motel. Not only did they make good eating on the rare occasion they came around, Walt fashioned the boots and satchel Sam wore all the time out of the skins. He was one of the best tanners around, endlessly talented.

Rats were nasty, massive creatures. If they ever got a hold in the motel it was almost impossible to get them out. That made killing them off one of the most important things for Sam's people to do. If humans realized rats were around, an exterminator was a stone's throw away. The problem with exterminators was their methods would kill off Sam's people just as easy as the rats. And the poison could linger long after the rats were gone. The motel would become uninhabitable for any of Sam's people.

Relocation would become the only option, a dangerous course of action that rarely worked out for any of them. The distances they'd need to cross to get to a new motel or home would be immense.

If rats had got into Mikael and Christian's motel, it wasn't likely they'd be safe going home after all this time. Sam frowned at that, hating the thought of abandoning these people on their own in a hostile environment.

"How many others are left at the motel now?"

Mikael frowned. "None," he admitted reluctantly. "Before I was taken it was down to just Christian, Kara and myself. We're all that's left."

Sam and Bree couldn't bring themselves to look at him. Three people alone in a vast motel like that, one that was already being encroached upon by rodents... they wouldn't stand a chance.

Bree stared at Sam, still catching up to the conversation. "So it's true then. You're a human like..." her eye flicked up to where the opening of the pocket was.

"He's my brother. Just like I said." Sam closed his eyes in memory. "I was shrank by the same woman. She's a witch. We tried to hunt her down but she's an expert at vanishing. She got me when I was ten. Bree... your parents were the only thing that saved me from her. She attacked me and my brother, aiming to shrink us both down together. I got hit, your parents grabbed me, then my real dad came in. He saved Dean and she scampered off. I woke up a week later in your old home. Dad and Dean were gone... chasing the witch, as I found out later on."

Sam stared down at his arm, rubbing it without even thinking. "For weeks I thought they'd come back for me. Months. But they never did. I lived with your family for over thirteen years. They taught me everything I know about living at this size."

Bree pursed her lips. "So how are you with Dean now?"

"That damn witch. She started shrinking kids again, drawing my brother in. He's a hunter, just like our dad, and he came back to the motel on a hunt."

They both recoiled at that. "A hunter? " Bree breathed, twitching away from the side that kept bumping into Dean. "He's a hunter, and he has us in his pocket?! How are we still alive?! "

"Because he's my brother and he'll never hunt, or hurt us. Not all hunters are the same, Bree! I promise!" Sam put his hand on his chest. "I'm a hunter too!"

He saw the skeptical looks they both shot him. "What? It's true!"

Mikael snorted. "A borrower who thinks he's a hunter. Now I've seen everything."

Sam glared. "I don't just think I'm a hunter, I am. Just ask Dean."

From outside the pocket, Sam heard the familiar sound of the Impala's door creak open. A huge hand slipped into the pocket without warning, scooping them all into its grip. Sam grunted when his arm was jostled briefly against a finger, but it didn't last.

They all rose up into the light, the fingers unfolding around them once they were out. Sam found himself sitting on the edge of Dean's huge palm with Bree trying to hide behind him and Mikael somehow standing behind them both.

Dean quickly lowered both his hands to the seat, letting them all slide off on the bench seat. Christian and Kara landed next to the other three. Dean's hands retreated to his sides, giving them space on the wide expanse.

"Hey," Dean said in his rumbling voice. "Everyone alright?"

Sam gave the others a quick glance. "We're all good," he called up to the huge human leaning over them with nothing but concern painted on his face.

Dean smiled at that. "Well, we're almost home free. Motel's not ten miles down the street from here. Then it's up to you guys where we go from there."

Christian arched his eyebrows at that, speaking up for all of them. "Up to us? How's any of this up to us? "

Sam caught his eyes. "You don't have to stay with us. You can leave as soon as we get back to the motel, I promise." His eyes flicked over to Bree. "But we can take Bree back to her old motel, where there's others like you still living. It'll be safer, and if you want, we can take everyone."

Christian fell silent at that, thoughtful. Kara was practically glowing at the idea. "Daddy, we can be with others again, we can be safe! "

Christian knelt down next to her, giving her a hug. "We'll talk about it, kiddo." He glanced over towards Mikael and Bree. "We'll do what's best for everyone."

Something huge shifted behind them while they were talking. Dean was digging through his duffel, tossing all the stuff that was in it into the back seat. "Uh, Dean. What are you doing?" Sam called out, curious.

The huge green eyes settled on Sam, making him stiffen before he could push the instinct away. It was harder after what he'd been through to act normal around Dean. "Can't let you guys stay on the seat while I'm driving," Dean said. "Too dangerous. I hit the brakes once and you all go flying."

Sitting up once he was done, he showed them the duffel. "You'll all be safe in here, I promise. I won't zip it up so you can get out if you have to. You have my word, I'll never trap you against your will. Any of you."

The huge duffel was placed behind them on the seat. Figuring he'd go first and let everyone know it was safe, Sam went to climb up the bag. He found himself stopped by a huge hand.

Sam flinched away nervously. "Dean, what the hell?"

"Sorry, Sam. You're not going in there with your arm in that condition."

"You have a better idea? I can't exactly sit on your shoulder like this!" Sam held his arm protectively by his side.

"Sam, he's right," Christian's voice came from the side. Sam twisted towards him, surprised to hear anyone on Dean's side. "Your arm needs to be kept straight and a bumpy ride in there with us won't help. If you aren't careful it's going to heal crooked and at the very least it'll need to be rebroken to heal straight."

Sam scowled, hating that he knew Christian was right. "What's your plan?" he asked Dean.

Dean didn't say anything, just shifted his hand so it was palm up next to Sam. His eyes bored straight into Sam, begging for his trust. Sam felt his built-up defenses start to crumble. Dean deserved his trust more than anyone else.

He cast his eyes at Christian. "We'll be fine, Sam," Kara's father said. "Worry about yourself for once."

With that, Sam let Dean scoop him into his grasp. The huge hand cupped protectively against that massive chest, holding Sam with gentle insistence. From his new point of view, Sam watched Dean open the top of the duffel for the others, giving them a place to climb in.

Dean got surreptitious looks from Bree and Mikael, but they trusted him enough to climb in. One by one they slipped out of sight. Dean closed the flap, but kept it unzipped just like he'd promised.

He glanced down at Sam once everyone was all set. "You okay down there, Sam?"

Sam met his gaze, unable to stop himself from flinching again at the way Dean was staring down at him. It was far too close to the way those people had stared at him over the last few days.

Sam pushed it from his mind. Dean was no more dangerous to him than a loyal puppy. He knew that, it was just so hard to get the impressions left by the other humans to leave. "I'm fine," Sam said. He rubbed his arm. "Just been a long few days."

The huge fingers curled closer to him, supporting his small frame as gently as they could. "You just sit back and relax. Once we get you back to the room we'll take care of your injuries." The huge voice rumbled behind him, vibrating through the hand.

Sam leaned back, letting himself rest against Dean's chest. No... it's his stomach. I'm too far down to be against his chest. Sam was level with the bottom of the steering wheel, low enough down that no one could see him if they peered in the window. For some reason, his mind was clinging to anything it could, desperately searching for distractions.

It didn't matter where he was, anyway. It was soft, and warm, and comfortable. He wasn't in danger of getting hurt again, or sold off to strangers for God-knows-why, for cash. His life was again in his hands. Or Dean's, rather, he thought fondly. He couldn't think of anywhere else he'd rather be.

His breathing slowed as he drifted into sleep. Even the roar of the engine couldn't keep him awake as Dean turned on the car above him. The steady motion of Dean's breathing behind him and the strong thumb that settled itself protectively over his small form gave Sam a content feeling.

He was safe.

Dean watched his tiny brother slump back in his grip, giving in to exhaustion. He smiled at that, knowing the amount of trust it would take for someone that small to fall asleep in a hand. At least there was some trust left after everything Sam had gone through. Dean would hate it if those people had crushed every bit of trust and spirit in his brother. Sam's trust in Dean was more rare and precious than any gem and he would do anything to keep it in one piece.

He cupped the hand closer against his stomach, keeping Sam safely down, out of the way of the steering wheel. The Impala started up with a rumbling purr.

Dean glanced over at the duffel bag. "Everyone hold on in there, alright? It'll only be a few minutes till we're back at the motel."

He heard muffled noises like someone was talking, but couldn't make out the words. Since his hands were full, Dean chose to take it as a sign they were ready and switched the car into drive. He had to get his brother back and look at that arm, anyway. No time to waste.

Curling his thumb around Sam as a make-shift seatbelt, Dean glanced at him one last time before driving off. Sam was slumped down, completely out.

What had they put him through that he was in such bad shape? First thing he'd do when he got back was take care of Sam. Then they had to ditch this town, fast as possible. If there was any chance of the family getting out of the police raid, they knew where Dean was. He couldn't take any chances.

The trip to the motel crawled by. Dean was still on edge after everything that had happened that night. Feeling Sam's slight body in his hand made it all worse. Sam moved on occasion, fragile arms or legs shifting under Dean's gentle thumb. Dean kept his hold as light as possible, just enough to keep Sam from slipping off. The slightest pressure in the wrong place could hurt Sam even more, and never had Dean been more aware of that fact.

What really made the drive awkward was the duffel sitting nearby. There were four people sitting inside, out of sight and trusting him with their lives. They didn't even really know him. Aside from Kara, that is.

He arrived at the motel at last. Dean stuck his gun back in his pants and reached for the duffel. Realizing how strange it must feel to be in something so easily lifted, he spoke to them, wanting to explain what was happening. "I'm gonna carry you all into the motel room. You can decide what to do once we're in there."

He grabbed the strap, lifting it easily into the air. Past the sound of small bodies shifting in there, there was no response. He got out of the car, cradling Sam against his chest the entire time.

A few steps was all it took to get to the motel room and he was opening the door at last. Sam would be safe in moments. Dean could take care of him, the way a big brother should.

The door creaked open, a beam of light slicing into the dark motel room. The shades were shut tight. Dean paused. He couldn't remember closing them.

Then something moved in the darkness past the light of the door.

"Who's there?" Dean demanded angrily. A small cry of fear came from down by his knees in the duffel bag, and he felt Sam shift in his hand, drawn from sleep by his loud voice.

Shit, thought Dean. Sam in one hand, injured and barely conscious, and a duffel full of frightened people in the other. This was no time for a fight.

How did he get himself into these situations?

How was he going to get them out of this situation?

Dean lowered the duffel to the floor slowly, going for his gun the moment his hand was free.

The light snapped on.

Dean's fingers curled protectively around Sam when the dark figure was illuminated.

"Dad?! "

A/N

They're out of the house, but the excitement isn't over for this crew just yet! A surprise figure shows up right when Dean thinks he's home free.